The word symbol means to strike together, like the musical instrument in an orchestra in which two pieces of brass are clashed together to create a composite sound. A symbol brings back together that which has been separated or torn asunder.
Civilization, our own especially, is masterful at differentiation, clarity, division, abstraction, and taking things apart to analyze them. This faculty of differentiation makes our civilization possible. In our vocabulary, this word means one thing, and that word means another. Differentiation is one of the divine aspects of the human mind. But if one stops there, one has only half of the human experience. To find the other half is a deep secret of human life.
Our culture has a deep heritage of symbolic life, but something has gone wrong with our connection to many of the most powerful symbols in Western experience. They no longer nourish us, as they should, as they once did, as we require. Many hours could be spent exploring why our inherited symbol systems no longer work as they once did, but suffice it to say that they have lost their power for many of us. When something is literalized or sentimentalized, then it loses its' power.
We have such a high standard of living, yet we are poverty stricken with respect to symbolic life, leading to neurosis, anxiety, loneliness, restlessness. To talk about symbolic life is to address the post-modern dilemma.
When something is missing in one's diet, then symptoms appear. A symptom is a poor grade symbol. I became Dr. Jung's devotee when I read and understood his idea that all neurosis is an effort to cure what is wrong in us, but it is applied at the wrong level. So the cure for a neurosis is to find out what the symptom is saying and then get that on a more intelligent level.
Symbol is the art of putting back together, that which has been torn apart. If you can learn to use symbolic life intelligently, it will provide the solution for neurosis, anxiety and loneliness. It does this by turning life's apparent contradiction and collision into paradox.
In the consulting room, so often my aim is to turn neurotic collisions into paradoxical symbols. This is to discover a means by which life comes back together again.
Holiness relates to wholeness, to live the god-given whole that you are. We spend so much time civilizing our children so they will be polite, kind, courteous, and fair. This is un-wholemaking, but it is the stuff of civilization. As a result we all have a vast unlived life. The first major task in the second half of life is to search out one's unlived life. There is a terrible heresy in our culture that consists of denying the dark things, to pretend that they are not there. This makes unlived life in huge quantities. The unlived things are murderous; they prevent peace. Unlived life in one is deprived of consciousness, air, and light, and so it goes rancid. I shudder at that word rancid, yet everyone has such symptom-making unlived life in them. These things are dangerous. If you overdo one of a pair of opposites, the other one goes rancid and you are in trouble.
It is terrifying to make a list of unlived life. If you are an introvert, you are not an extravert. If you are married then you are not a bachelor. If you are man, then you are not a woman, and some of the feminine experience is closed to you. Beethoven was once asked how he composed music, and he replied, "I unchoose notes and what remains is the composition." What are the unchosen notes in your life, the remainder making up the composition of your particular life? These need to be coped with in some fashion.
If you can find the collision of two things that are at war within you, then you can begin to get them on a better level. Think in terms of symbol. For example, suppose you fall in love with your neighbor's wife or husband. Without understanding symbolic life, it would appear that the opposing forces are very troublesome indeed. Is one to act out every time one is hit by cupid's arrow? Or is one to deny this God-given Eros, just say no, and end up resenting your partner, getting depressed, or going around angry.
If you have integrity enough -- that word integrity is quite wonderful and means untouched, unbroken -- you can devise something to encompass these two opposing forces in you. You don't have to tear the neighborhood up, and you don't need to be neurotic. How could you reconcile these opposing forces in a symbolic way?
This topic is explored at length in our book, Living Your Unlived Life.