Depending on which archetype influences a person, their language—both written and spoken—changes significantly. However, we will limit our consideration to spoken language. Unlike written language, speech is characterized by strong logical accents that distinguish particularly meaningful words and concepts for the person. The well-known grammatical division of a sentence into subject, predicate, and direct object—or action, subject of the action, and object of the action—can easily be translated into the language of yin and yang. Specifically, the yang modality includes the subject of the action—who—and the verb—what they do; the yin modality includes the object of influence and its characteristics.
For example, in the phrase: “Nikanor carefully examined the unfamiliar room,” the yang archetype includes the subject, i.e., “Nikanor,” what he does—”examined”—and the characteristic of this verb, i.e., “carefully.” The yin archetype includes the object of the verb, i.e., “the unfamiliar room.” Thus, “Nikanor carefully examined” is the yang component of the phrase, while “the unfamiliar room” is the yin component.
Not every phrase contains yang or yin components. First, there are phrases, especially in speech, where there is no object at all. “I left” is a purely yang statement. Conversely, “It’s time for me” is purely yin; it defines a person’s state, as do indefinite phrases like “it’s dawn,” “it was getting dark,” or “it was evening”—these are habitual sentences.
However, even in a complete sentence, it is not always possible to distinguish yin and yang components. For example, in the phrase: “In this small room, several people gathered at once, who surprisingly differed from each other both in appearance and in behavior,” there is practically no yang element. The verb “to gather,” as well as “to be,” “to exist,” and some others, does not contain any yang element, and overall, this phrase is purely descriptive and therefore falls under the yin archetype.
Yet, as formal syntactic analysis shows, it reflects modality. When a person is predominantly influenced by either the yin or yang archetype, their speech clearly reveals this archetype, emphasizing words related to yin or yang modality—in other words, they place logical stress on them. Words related to the opposite modality are often omitted (this is called ellipsis), spoken indistinctly, unclearly, or in a quieter voice, as if indicating they are not essential.
For example, how can a wife determine the mood or modality in which her husband left the house? She only needs to ask, “Where are you going?” and carefully listen to the answer, paying attention not only to its direct meaning but also to nuances: logical stress, intonation, and the clarity or lack thereof in the words spoken. “I’m going… br-br-br….” What lies behind this indistinct “br-br-br” can be guessed or asked about: to drink beer, to visit Tolik, or to tinker in the garage. Of course, it is possible that the husband is deceiving, masking the most important purpose of his trip with a hasty phrase. But if we assume he is being sincere and not deliberately distorting the truth, it is clear that the main purpose of his trip concerns him less than the act itself: “I’m going.” Perhaps only after leaving will he precisely determine the direction and purpose—right now, the most important thing for him is the action, i.e., leaving the house.
If, however, the response is a phrase like “I’ll drop by Tolik’s,” where the subject—the pronoun “I”—is omitted, and the logical stress falls on the last word (which is understandable, both by the meaning of the phrase and because the verb “to drop by” rarely carries the main semantic load), this means the departure is being carried out. But if the response continues with a clearly yang modality, for example: “I need to tell him something,” with logical stress on the word “tell,” then the modality of the departure must still be considered yang.
In general, regarding modalities, there is a rule: “The second word is more important than the first.” That is, if a person speaks several phrases in yin modality but concludes with a yang phrase, then the previous phrases were nothing more than preparation, and the overall meaning of their message is yang. However, it is possible that a completely yang construction of a phrase indicates entirely yin intentions of the person—here, one must look at the essence.
The phrase: “I’m going for a walk, to stroll, to get some air, to look around,” is clearly yang from a philological perspective; on the other hand, it describes entirely yin behavior, i.e., a passive-contemplative mood of the person, expressed, however, in a yang form. How significant is this? As we know, nothing happens without reason. Perhaps this person wants to show that, even in a situation where they are independent of anyone, they have the right to act on their own.
If a person tends to express the yin archetype, they may speak with an intonation that is extremely important in speech and that also clearly distinguishes yin and yang phrases. In principle, yin intonation is softer, with less pressure, more contemplative, as if the person is accepting reality. Conversely, yang intonation carries a clear intention, action, possibly aggression, destruction, or direct intervention. Simply put, harsh intonation is always yang, even if the phrase’s content and lexical meaning sound yin.
“I’m cold”—a phrase that is yin in content and syntax—when spoken with great emphasis, acquires a distinct yang nuance, implying that those around should intervene and somehow help the person, for example, by offering a warm blanket or hot tea, or perhaps even a place to stay.
Yin speech is characterized by a special indefinite modality, intermediate between a statement and a question: “It’s time for me to go home.” If this phrase is spoken with a clearly interrogative intonation, it is in yang modality, as it requires an unambiguous response from the interlocutor. If it is spoken with a distinctly affirmative modality, its modality is yin, first because it describes a person’s state, and second because the logical stress falls on the last word, on the object.
However, if this phrase is spoken with the characteristic indefinite intonation of a half-question-half-statement, it is delivered evenly, in one breath, without logical stress on any particular word, and ends with a sense of ellipsis—i.e., the person is unsure of themselves and offers the partner the choice of modality and even the phrase itself, allowing them to respond. Here, the host can catch a guest who is clearly fishing for a response: “No, no, it’s still early, and we’re having such a good time talking with you,”—a response that assumes the question modality, i.e., its yang modality.
Instead, the host may respond: “Well, if it’s time, then it’s time. It was very pleasant talking with you,”—implying that the phrase was spoken in an affirmative tone, in yin modality, and they respond in sync, i.e., also in yin.
In general, the question of the complementarity of yin and yang modalities is quite acute, and different people understand it in completely different ways. Yin and yang are complementary to each other; however, in life, people subconsciously believe that complementary behavior is synchronic, specifically that yang should be answered in a yang style, and yin in a yin style, and in many cases (but not always), such behavior will be complementary.
Conversely, behavior that is deliberately ambiguous or indefinite in terms of its modalities is often characteristic of professional manipulators, deceivers, people who achieve their goals by deliberately distorting the meaning of their words and the content of their behavior, thereby misleading their partner or opponent so that later, when it is too late, they can say, “I meant something completely different.” Such behavior is called equivocation.This is a technique when a person, while saying certain words, uses special expressive means to create in their partner the impression that they want to say something completely different, and the partner follows this other meaning, after which the person will say: “But I told you something else entirely, you’re to blame for misunderstanding me.” Evasions associated with deliberate distortion of modalities are probably the most common of all.
A wife says to her husband: “You know, I feel so miserable tonight.” The husband sympathizes: “Well, do you want to go out tonight? Let’s take a walk or visit friends…”
Wife: “I didn’t ask you for that, but if you insist, fine. By the way, I bought a very beautiful hat today and wanted to hear your opinion.”
The reader might say: “Well, what’s so bad about that? Ordinary little feminine tricks, and besides, they both perfectly understand what’s really going on.”
In this case, perhaps so. However, in both family and professional interactions, a very common type of behavior is when a person systematically distorts modalities, saying one thing in words and another in tone, and uses this for selfish purposes, while those suffering from it can do nothing, since there is no social concept that brands a person for distorting modalities.
You might say about someone else: “He deceived me,” and society will condemn him. But you cannot say: “He created a false impression in me,” — society will shrug and say: “Well, it’s your own fault, dear, for forming the impression you do of people and situations.”
Yet, in reality, creating a false impression and abusing modalities is a sin no less grave than outright deception.
Let us return to the topic of linguistic modalities. In principle, every statement contains three levels: the psychological meaning, i.e., what the person intends; the social content or meaning, i.e., the meaning that the words carry in their circle of communication; and the third level — intonation. Each of these three levels has its own modality, and they can combine in the most bizarre ways.
Consider, for example, the simplest situation: a person is saying goodbye to a guest and wants to express a desire for them to come again. The internal content may be yang, namely, an intention to give the guest an order to come, or yin, i.e., a message to the guest that the person misses them.
However, the phrase itself and the intonation with which it is spoken can carry either a yang or a yin tone. A yang phrase sounds like: “Come visit.” A yin phrase sounds like: “I miss you when you’re not here.”
So far, we have not considered intonation, and each phrase was uttered entirely in a clear modality: the first in yang, the second in yin.
Now consider the behavior of a person who introduces another factor — intonation.
A phrase spoken in the yang-yang modality, or direct command, sounds like: “Come tomorrow, I’m telling you.” (Spoken with strong emphasis.)
A phrase in the yang-yin modality — a direct request or invitation — sounds like: “Come tomorrow, if it’s convenient for you.” Here, the intonation is soft, polite, especially in the second part of the phrase.
An invitation in the yin-yang modality — an active complaint, imposing one’s state on the partner — sounds like: “I really want you to come tomorrow.” (Spoken with emphasis.) On the social level, the person conveys their state, but the words themselves, which reinforce and emphasize the state — not simply “I want,” but “I really want” — and the intense, strained, insistent intonation create a yang overtone.
Finally, a phrase in the yin-yin modality — an indirect request, a mediated invitation — is spoken in a soft, possibly slightly plaintive manner: “If you feel like coming, I’ll be very happy.” Here, “you feel like” and “I” are often omitted, so only the purely yin component of the phrase remains: “If feel like coming, will be very happy.”
Question to the reader. Think through the last analyzed situation — an invitation to visit — in relation to yourself. Which of the four described modalities (yang-yang, yang-yin, yin-yang, yin-yin) is most natural or organic for you? Which do you categorically reject for yourself? Which would you find hardest to perform in an actor’s exercise?
Now put yourself in the position of the guest. Which of the four types of invitation are you most likely to respond to? Which, on the contrary, would sharply repel you and make you never come again? Think about the reasons for such reactions. Behind them, there are surely quite definite life attitudes, which may be worth re-examining, expanding, or supplementing.
What words do you pay maximum attention to when listening to people? Are they in the yin or yang part of the phrases they speak? Which part of the texts you hear do you remember better — the yin or the yang? Pay attention to your ellipses, i.e., omissions. What do you more often omit — the subject, the predicate, or the object? Do you like colorful descriptions, or do you prefer to emphasize actors and actions in your speech?
The same question regarding the books you read. What do you pay more attention to — active actions or static descriptions? What kind of criticism do you find harder to accept — that which concerns what you did wrong, or that which implies that you are somehow inadequate?
Pay attention to how you yourself criticize others, including your children — in yin or yang modality: do you voice complaints about their actions or their states?
Can you softly and politely, in yin modality, speak yang words? Can you press with intonation when describing your troubles? For example, say: “I feel bad,” in a tone that makes the whole family jump around you?
Charm
Everyone has their own ideas about what charm is, what their personal charm is, and what kind of charm attracts them personally. Assessing the modality of one’s own and others’ charm allows you to understand a lot about yourself and others. In particular, most people tend to greatly narrow their own personal charm, manifesting it only in quite specific circumstances associated with initiating quite specific modalities, whereas any combination of modalities corresponds to its own type of charm, which can be mastered and used successfully.
Yin charm is the charm of a tender inviting smile, softness, compliance, tact, silence, helpfulness, depth, and subtle perception. One should not think that only certain individuals possess this kind of charm. In reality, absolutely any person can manifest all these qualities under certain circumstances, with a certain partner, perhaps very rarely, but this does not mean that, by working on oneself, one cannot cultivate yin charm within oneself.
Most often, a person simply does not consider it necessary or asks a reasonable but unconvincing question for the partner: “But why is this necessary?”
However, the author hopes that a reader who has read this far in the book will not ask such a question.
Yang charm is the charm of pure intentions, well-thought-out plans, adequate energy, good strength, regal majesty, power, true authority, and responsibility for what a person plans to do and does.
Question to the reader. Which type of charm do you prefer in your acquaintances? In relatives? On television? In books? Which type of charm, in your opinion, is characteristic of you personally? Can you manifest charm in the opposite modality? Do you consider it necessary to do so? If not, why? Do you consider charm an important part of your life? Are there many situations in your life where it is clearly lacking, but some force prevents you from turning it on, or you simply don’t know how to do it?
Think about the modality of these situations and about which modality you embody in them.
Receiving Gifts
By how people give and receive gifts, one can learn a lot about the modalities that govern their behavior in many other situations.As a rule, when giving and receiving gifts, people are comparatively relaxed, even in formal situations, and here the archetypes that guide the psyche sometimes manifest more openly than usual. Many people have a very clear idea of how gifts should be given, how they should be properly received, and what a person should do.receives a gift. If the recipient’s behavior does not match what the giver expects, an unpleasant, tense scene often arises. To avoid this, let us examine this question from the perspective of the dyadic archetype modalities.
The yang perspective on the act of giving is that it is a process, an action. The person receiving the gift is the object of influence and must respond in a very specific way. First and foremost, they must be open to the act of giving. This means, for example, that their attention should be drawn not primarily to the gift itself but to the person giving it—their accompanying words, emotions. In other words, a person guided by the yang archetype says: “I GIVE YOU this gift,” and the logical emphasis falls on the first four words, while the gift itself is secondary. When accepting a gift under the yang archetype, the person considers it their main duty to express gratitude and joy for receiving it, so to speak, to return the energy expended by the giver in the form of thanks, words of admiration, and so on. In this case, little attention may be paid to the gift itself.
Conversely, the yin approach to receiving a gift is to assimilate it. Such a person may, without paying attention to the giver, grab the gift—even without unwrapping it—and quickly take it away to examine and integrate it later, when the guests have left, to determine its place in their life. A person guided by the yin archetype may unwrap the gift but then seem to merge with it entirely: pressing it to their heart, their face lighting up with a joyful smile, their psychological state visibly changing. However, they may not feel the need to express this outwardly, for example, by thanking the giver in any explicit way. From their perspective, what matters is that the gift pleased them, and gratitude may be written on their face, but it must be read—expressed indirectly, perhaps through a satisfied curve of the lips or a fleeting yet meaningful glance.
It is also fascinating to observe a person giving a gift while operating under the yin archetype. At that moment, they themselves become an extension of the gift, imbuing it with a certain state they wish to convey to the recipient. This is how symbolic gifts like flowers are typically given—gifts that carry the energy of the giver. Yin gifts often do not aim to directly influence the recipient, who may use them as they see fit—for example, objects to decorate their home to their taste, culinary spices to use in cooking, and so on. Yang gifts, by contrast, are much more deliberate and purposeful. If it is a bouquet of flowers, the intention behind it is to impress the recipient, to sway them toward a certain type of behavior. If this does not happen, the giver may feel as though they have lost a contest: they tried, they had a specific goal in mind, yet their gift—their weapon, their tool—failed.
With a yin approach, nothing of the sort is intended or expected. The person does not plan a specific outcome from giving the gift and is satisfied with a reaction that amounts to “liked it or didn’t like it.”
In this situation, the complementarity of yin and yang becomes quite apparent: a person giving a gift from a yang perspective usually expects a yin response from the recipient, and vice versa. Generally, synchronous behavior—yang to yang or yin to yin—is not complementary in this context.
A question for the reader: Do you enjoy receiving thanks for your gifts, or is it more important to you that the gift makes an impression on the recipient? Which type of response do you have to gifts—yin or yang? Do you immediately adapt the gift to yourself or your home? Do you pay special attention to thanking the giver? What type of gifts do you prefer—yang gifts that directly influence you, or yin gifts that influence your environment and affect you indirectly? Do you like gifts that have a clear, predetermined way of being used, or do you prefer to have a choice in how to use them? Can a cheap gift be meaningful to you? How often do you receive such gifts in your life?
EMOTIONS
Emotions, by their nature, clearly fall into two categories—yin and yang—each aimed either at influencing the person and the situation or at relaxing within the individual. Even here, as they say, variations are possible, and it should be remembered that within each modality, there are submodalities. Moreover, the same word describing an emotion can mean entirely different things to different people, so to better understand one another, special attention must be paid to the modalities being used or implied.
In principle, people are quite tolerant of each other’s emotional states, allowing a wide range of emotions in themselves and others. However, this tolerance vanishes the moment it comes to expressing emotions. Most people tend to allow themselves or others to express emotions only in certain modalities, which often do not align with the modalities of the emotions themselves. In other words, we tend to accept emotional expressions in some forms and reject them in others.
Why this is so is a separate question, but once a person becomes aware of this circumstance, they often become significantly more flexible and tolerant.
Love is one of the most complex concepts humans encounter, and its apparent simplicity and accessibility even to a child can be misleading when people communicate and use the word, assigning it entirely different meanings. Here, the difference in the modalities of its understanding is crucial. Is love a state or an activity, a background or a content, a being or a goal?
The yin view of love understands it as a certain state, a kind of enlightenment bathed in divine light, a special grace that descends upon a person and permeates their entire being. There are also external situations in which love prevails, and in them, one feels a soft, benevolent divine presence. In its yin understanding, love can be earned, achieved, or awaited; some believe it is an act of divine mercy unrelated to human behavior, while others think that inner purification, the cultivation of virtues, and the eradication of flaws increase a person’s chances of this grace. Still others attribute the main role to faith—but again, in a yin sense, a faith that is difficult, if not impossible, to cultivate through deliberate effort.
The yang view of love is something entirely different. Love is a special enthusiasm, a particular inspiring hue that colors a person’s actions. The source of this hue may be personal, or it may be unclear where it comes from, or the object of love may be the source of inspiration—but in any case, at the core, at the focus of the person’s attention, lies a specific action directed toward an external object. This object may be the beloved, or it may be something entirely different, in which case the latter is illuminated by the person’s love in the process of working or interacting with it. However, this work or interaction itself has no direct relation to love; it is merely illuminated by it. For example, a man in love in a yang way may dedicate a hundred-kilometer run to his beloved, and for him, this is a perfectly adequate expression of his love. He will run those hundred kilometers with her name on his lips, and the fact that she may be in another city at that moment will not trouble him in the least. Yang can understand love as a state, but for it, this state must necessarily manifest in action; otherwise, the person admits its falsity or their own inadequacy.For example, in the yin understanding of the word “man”: “I love my family,” may well mean that he loves being in it. He enjoys coming home, immersing himself in the family atmosphere, playing with the children, eating at the common table, perhaps even cooking something or making a shelf, but the latter actions are not typical for him at all. The main thing is that they exist within the general background of his state. For a man who loves his family in a yang way, his state at the moment when he is with his family does not matter fundamentally. He understands love as a special feeling that inspires him to engage with this family within its own framework (for example, raising children by teaching them certain skills, dressing his wife, building relationships with her), or supporting the family’s existence in the external world by earning money for a new house, a car, a trip. At the same time, love in the yang and yin types may by no means accompany each other. For example, a man may love his family in a yang way, finding great self-expression and satisfaction in it and doing so joyfully, yet remain outside the family. There are situations where, in theory, he could benefit from the results of his labor and feel the favorable climate of family life, but for some reason, these do not appeal to him or bring him any joy. In other words, he does not feel yin-type love at all. (The reader can imagine the opposite situation on their own.)
Similarly, love for music can be understood in yin and yang modalities, and these are entirely different things. For a music lover, love for music is precisely the desire to perceive it, that is, the desire to live in an environment where their favorite music is playing. It makes them feel good, and nothing else is needed. Meanwhile, the thought of creating a melody themselves—with their voice or an instrument—does not even cross their mind, and they do not consider it important or necessary. On the contrary, purely yang love for music is characteristic of professional musicians who set themselves the goal of mastering a musical instrument to perfection, performing their favorite pieces in a way they have never sounded before, and if they succeed and the resulting sound satisfies them, this is the highest expression of their love. At the same time, a professional musician may love a very limited range of performers, considering the rest amateurs or simply not attaching much importance to the act of listening to music as such. Of course, they are capable of perceiving someone else’s music, but it is quite possible that only their own interpretation truly satisfies them—the one they reproduce on their instrument, not the one they hear internally. Sometimes it seems to them that they alone know how the music should truly sound, and their greatest happiness is to reproduce it with their own hands or lips.
Of course, love-as-action and love-as-state are inseparable; however, each person has a certain accentuation of one or the other, sometimes very strong, and for them, the word “love” acquires a distinctly yin or distinctly yang shade. In different areas of life, this shade may change, and by observing its shifts, one can learn a great deal about their inner traits and problems.
Questions for the reader. When you love a person, do you feel an acute need to do something for them? Are you afraid of unrequited love: a) your own, b) directed at you? Do you believe in selfless love? Do you resonate with the idea that God not only loves a person but also teaches them, and in this His love is revealed? Do you consider relationships with people that are not colored by love to be empty? Do you think it is possible to work effectively without feeling love for your work? Recall people whose love you find completely incomprehensible. Think about what modality they experience it in. Think about the modality in which the love of your loved ones is directed toward you, and try to change the modality from yin to yang or from yang to yin. What will the results be? Do you think love implies care? Are love and fear compatible?
Anger
In theory, anger has a distinctly yang modality, meaning it presupposes an object and a process during which displeasure is expressed toward that object. Often, this object is found within my inner world, where one part of me, with which I currently identify, is outraged by another part I temporarily perceive as foreign and with which I momentarily dissociate. However, there are modifications of anger that are directed inward and do not involve any division of the self. These include helpless anger or the yin version of anger—feelings of irritation, that is, a sense of self-destruction under the influence of some pathological or psychically harmful cause.
In reality, however, an yin version of anger also exists, where it is perceived precisely as a state associated with any action. In such cases, it is said that anger “blinds” a person, and they no longer choose either the object of their anger or the way to express it but are completely enslaved by the emotion, which cuts off all connections with the outside world. The ability to translate anger from the yin modality into the yang modality is an important skill that, unfortunately, is not taught in modern schools. Equally important is finding adequate forms of external expression for anger, whether in its yin or yang form.
A cultural example of yin anger is restrained, potential anger, where it is clear that a person is in a state of anger but holds back and has not yet chosen a way to act on this emotion. In principle, they are free in this—they may overcome their anger and dissolve it in some way within their psyche, perhaps suppress it, creating a ticking time bomb, or perhaps act on it, choosing the forms and timing themselves. Conversely, actual yang anger can manifest in a variety of ways, beginning with symbolic ones. For example, the word “opala” (displeasure) comes from the tradition of Russian tsars who, when displeased with a boyar, would present them with a precious stone called “opal,” symbolizing their displeasure and ordering the boyar to temporarily remove themselves from the sovereign’s sight. Anger is often expressed verbally, using various kinds of abusive and threatening epithets, as well as through gestures. Moreover, the nature of the phrases and body movements often reveals that the true modality of the anger does not match the one the person is trying to imitate or that is expected by the situation.
If a syntactic analysis of an angry text clearly indicates the yin archetype, this means that the person has not managed to realize their anger, to translate it from the yin modality into the yang modality, and the emotion remains inside them. The person, in general, does not plan to act on it. This is especially evident in gestures. If a person’s body movements, hand and head gestures are directed forward, as if striking out, this indicates the yang modality of anger. If, on the other hand, their gestures seem to push the partner away and are directed toward themselves, this points to the yin modality of anger, comparable to its innocence toward the addressee.
Questions for the reader. What type of anger is characteristic of you? Do you ever cry in anger? Are you familiar with the feeling of helpless anger? Do those around you fear your anger? Is it a tool for them? Are there people in your environment whose anger you fear? People whose anger, for unclear reasons, does not affect you at all? Assess the modality of their angry manifestations. What manifestations of anger or rage do you consider acceptable for yourself? For others? Think about their modalities. Try, in a standard situation where you feel anger, to change its modality to the opposite. If it was yang, display your state of anger to those around you without indicating the addressee. If it was yin, on the other hand, direct a few harsh words and threats at the person who provoked your anger. Carefully observe their reaction and its modality.
Curiosity and Interest
Curiosity differs from interest in its modality. Curiosity is primarily a state of a person, meaning it belongs to the yin archetype.Here the object of interest exists, but occupies a rather abstract place in a person’s imagination, meaning the person does not strive to specify their interest in this object. It is interesting to them, as it seems, in any of its forms, angles, or manifestations. Let’s see—we’ll know more later—such is the position of curiosity. In contrast, interest, especially a persistent, deep interest, is more colored by the yang archetype. This is an emotion directed toward an object, but the person represents it much better and knows far more precisely what interests them. Moreover, they clearly and actively direct their energy and activity toward the object that interests them. They approach it, they come at it from the right angle, they penetrate inside, they explore it, and their exploration is colored by the emotion of interest.
A popular artist taking the stage at an author’s evening clearly distinguishes the curiosity of the audience or a journalist conducting an interview from the meaningful, purposeful, active interest expressed, in particular, in intelligent and interesting questions for the artist themselves. In contrast, curiosity is distinguished by a superficial examination and a standard set of questions that cannot be answered in an interesting or meaningful way, questions asked, so to speak, pro forma—that is, the questioner is not interested in the answer but uses the question merely as a pretext to force the object of interest to manifest in some way, without caring how exactly.
In this way, one might say that yin curiosity is a phase preceding the directed yang interest. And although it sometimes creates an unpleasant impression, it seems unavoidable. The important thing is to recognize in time that a phase shift, a change in modalities, has occurred.
Question for the reader: How do you relate to drunks staggering in the street? Do you willingly join their ranks? Do you consider aimless curiosity a normal human state, or do you think it should always give way to directed interest? How wide is the range of your non-professional interests? How often do you ask questions to which you are not interested in the answers? Who among your acquaintances bothers you by asking questions and not listening to the answers?
Worry and Anxiety
In principle, both emotions—yin—since they characterize a person’s state, but here the submodalities matter. Yin worry and anxiety are not connected to any external object. They are states of a person that they must somehow cope with, without clarifying their causes. They may soothe them, balance them, suppress them, or transform them into other states.
The yang understanding of worry and anxiety is entirely different. These are emotions that color a person’s various activities: “In anxiety, he paced from one side of the room to the other, ran from the window to the phone, unable to find a moment’s peace.” Internal anxiety can accompany the search for the source of tension and a way to overcome a dangerous or unpleasant future situation. One part of this search is the source of danger and anxiety, and this source must be found and neutralized or somehow understood and transformed.
A person says, “I am worried about my disorderliness.” The yang approach is that they are worried about their disorderliness and, in connection with this, are either planning or already taking concrete steps to strengthen internal and external discipline. These actions will be colored by their worry about their own imperfection. If this proves strong enough, a switch to the yang mode occurs.
of life regarding minor and significant circumstances—external and internal. What change in modality do you notice? What is the modality of anxiety and worry expressed by your relatives daily, in critical situations? Which modalities do you react to most acutely, and in which modality do you respond?
Joy This emotion is especially important because without it human life is completely incomplete. However, many people experience and feel joy in completely different ways and not as others expect from them, which leads to great distress, misunderstanding, and a strong deterioration of relationships between people in general, especially close ones.
Yin-type joy is primarily a state. A person feels good, they rejoice, they experience their joy and do not think about how to express it outwardly, how to voice it, or what to do with it. Their eyes shine, their face bears a smile, their laughter is heard, they feel light and at ease. Most likely, they do not think that they owe something to someone or are obligated in some way, nor do they feel the need to regulate their external behavior.
Yang emphasis on joy means that a person is concerned with its adequate external expression. Their joy, as they say, overflows, and they want to share it with others, express it in some way, or take actions filled with and colored by their joy.
materialization in the external world. Then he laughs contagiously, directing his laughter at those around him, begins to joyfully tell them something, to greet them, to give gifts, strives to improve their mood as well. In life, of course, it is not always possible to draw such a precise line between yin joy and yang joy. In an ordinary person, they are mixed together, and yet, in many people there is such a strong accentuation on the yin or yang component of joy that even in the best moments of their lives it significantly complicates their lives and those around them.
Yang-type joy, which goes outward but is not fueled by an inner state, looks deliberate and artificial. On the contrary, purely yin-type joy, when a person is overflowing with their sensations and does not notice the surrounding world, also makes a heavy impression, and in many cases this is not enough, that is, those around expect the person to share their joy, but it does not even occur to them that this is possible and necessary.
On the contrary, there are people who are not inclined to experience their joy in any way, for example, they consider it unethical or displeasing to God, or a heavy consequence that entails in the near future, so they either immediately express it outwardly without experiencing it themselves, or completely ignore, extinguish, douse this state.
Question to the reader. Whose joy is more important to you — your own or that of your loved ones? What kind of joy from them do you prefer: yin or yang type, that is, when they experience it themselves or when they direct it to you? Are you inclined to rejoice in life on your own? Are you inclined to share your joy? Have you had a negative experience when you tried to share your joy with loved ones or strangers, and their reaction was misunderstanding or negativity? Do you consider it normal for yourself to experience joy and share it with others?
Pity and compassion
These emotions can also be associated with two modalities that color them differently. In general, pity is primarily a state of the human soul, that is, it is under the yin archetype. On the other hand, pity is always pity for someone, and even if a person pities themselves, then internally they divide the subject who pities and the object to which their pity is directed. Therefore, the yang element or submodality in pity is also present, and the same applies to compassion. Here, as always, accents are important.
Yin pity can be characterized as a total state of a person when their attention is distracted from the object of pity, and the person is completely focused on their state: they feel sorry. They have already forgotten whom or what they pity, they are absorbed in experiencing this feeling. Pity, like anger, can completely cloud the eyes. For some time, all the person’s strength will go into coping with this experience or completely diving into its waves. However, what the person will emerge from these waves with is another question.
Yang pity is not a total emotional experience. It is an emotion that colors a particular action. Then a person usually says: “I did it out of pity. I pitied that drowning woman and pulled her out of the river. I pitied my son and allowed him to go to bed half an hour later than usual, letting him watch his favorite show.” Similarly, compassion in the yang type is an active action directed at the object of compassion.
Question to the reader. Which pity is more inherent in you — active or passive? Do you notice transitions of pity from the yin modality to the yang modality and vice versa in yourself, in your surroundings? Which feeling comes to you first, or does it change its nature over time? Do you expect pity and compassion from others, and if so, in what modality? Which modality of pity is unacceptable to you? Why? Try to remember your first experiences of acute pity and compassion — your own and directed at you. Evaluate their modality.
Sadness and mourning
Sadness is a state, that is, by its nature it is under the yin archetype. It is a state of a person that does not involve any external activity, passive, perhaps unconscious grief, quiet sadness, despair expressed in a kind of cloud surrounding the person and filling a significant part of their life, if not all of it. Sorrow casts a dark shadow on events in a person’s life; in inner life, it can be the main factor permeating it entirely. Sorrow can last for some time, but if it does not fade on its own, it begins to poison the psyche, and the means for its disposal is yang-colored grief, that is, a state of the soul aimed at specific actions. These actions, on the one hand, are external, for example, wearing appropriate clothing or certain restrictions on a person’s activity, but the main goal of grief is the work of mourning, that is, certain work in the inner space aimed at closing former plots and restoring the psyche for future life.
When a person says, “I am grieving,” it means that they are not just in sadness, but are performing certain active actions, for example, paying tribute, gratitude, and love to the people and circumstances to which they did not have time to give it when it was still possible. Thus, mourning has a yang tint, a yang submodality, although for the most part this is a state of a person, that is, it is under the yin archetype.
Question to the reader. How do you behave in sorrow? Do you prefer to be left alone or do you seek to spread your state to those around you, to demonstrate to them how bad you feel? Does the expression “work of mourning” make sense to you? Do you believe that after grief, renewal of a person and the emergence of new plots in their life is possible? Do you believe that by working on yourself or in the external world, a person can reduce their sorrow, shorten the terms of mental grief?
PHYSICAL BODY AND ITS PERCEPTION
Bodily sensations
All kinds of bodily sensations that a person perceives as such fall under the yin archetype. Somewhere it stings, somewhere it tightens, somewhere it relaxes, a cramp occurs, a warm wave spreads, a vibration arises. If a person does not intend to control their body and somehow modify these bodily sensations, but only passively listens to them, trying to adapt to them, if, in the event that something hurts, they look for a position in which the pain is minimized, and so on, they are completely under the influence of the yin archetype. The same applies to sensations coming from the external world when a person passively adapts to them: endures pain from impacts, walks trying not to bump into obstacles and adapting their gait to the terrain of the environment, climbs a tree not as a special goal, but as if in play — all this happens under the yin archetype.
The yang archetype involves a certain idea, certain purposeful efforts, for example, when a person does not endure pain by adapting to it, but opposes it with their mental resources, as if fighting it, saying to it: “Ah, you want to break me? No, I won’t give in!” When a person, like a yogi, begins to control their inner sensations, for example, engages in gymnastics, works with simulators, purposefully influences certain muscle groups, stretches ligaments, in short, influences their body as if it is not them, but it is something external to them — the yang archetype.
Question to the reader. Do you prefer active or passive rest? What do you like more — sunbathing on the beach or hiking? What do you need to relax — proper concentration, absence of external stimuli, appropriate music, smells, etc., or intense tension, overcoming difficult obstacles, exertion that suddenly ends, leaving you alone with your body for a short time and resumes again? Do you sometimes feel your body as something that possesses an independent will and consciousness from you? Do you distinguish parts of your body by the level of control over them by your will? Do you like it when you are stroked, massaged, or walked on? Are you able to adapt to some types of pain, transform their experience within yourself? Do you believe that you can get used to cold water, for example, swimming in an ice hole, and not feel negative emotions while doing so?
Food
By eating habits and, in general, the entire culture surrounding it, one can understand a great deal about the accentuation of archetypes in a person’s subconscious. Probably, any psychological issue in one way or another distorts a person’s food inclinations and diet, and therefore, in particular, problems related to correcting a person’s figure and weight cannot be resolved without a subtle and detailed psychological analysis and a change in the person’s psychology, ethics, and worldview. They say that a thin person lives inside a fat one — but why does it weep? The answer to this question is not as obvious as it may seem.
Yogis say that food should be drunk, and liquids should be eaten (meaning that food should be chewed so thoroughly that, mixing with saliva, it becomes almost liquid, while water should be sipped in small sips, as if biting off small pieces). Why such, at first glance, strange instructions? Obviously, here the desire for a balance of yin and yang manifests itself. The point is that, according to the main idea, chewing is a yang process. It has a specific goal: transforming food from the form in which it lies on the plate into a form acceptable for the stomach. As for the process of drinking, it clearly carries a yin shade, meaning that when a person drinks, they, as it were, merge with the drink, and their entire state changes; at least, there is no transformative goal here.
In other words, when a person drinks, they accept an object into themselves and begin to assimilate it. Chewing, on the other hand, is a process of preparing for assimilation by the body.
However, let us not be so physiological; let us turn to a more romantic question. How does a person perceive the process of eating? Purely psychologically, different people approach it in completely different ways. For some, food is no more than a tool, a means of maintaining the body in an energetic state, and for them, the process of eating is no more romantic or emotionally colored than refueling a car with gasoline — or even much less romantic, if we are talking about car enthusiasts. Thus, the yang view of food is its perception as a purposeful process with a clearly defined goal of satiation, with certain means of culinary preparation, chewing, digestion, and so on.
The yin view of food is that it is a process, a ritual that captivates a person entirely. It is a ritual that begins with the start of food preparation or even earlier and practically never ends, because once the food is eaten, the preparation of the next meal begins. From the yin perspective, food is a special ceremony in which a person goes through certain phases: they prepare the food, set it on the table, sit down themselves or invite their friends, enter into intimate contact with the dishes while they are still on the plates, examine them, smell them, combine them, transfer them to their own plate, and then internalize them even more, merging with them in an ecstatic impulse of consumption. Finally, the food lies in their stomach, and they begin to experience the process of its digestion, satiety, and quenching of thirst.
At the same time, in a yin modality, a person does not perceive what is happening as a purposeful process requiring their efforts; they perceive food as a part of life that flows naturally, to which they must adapt, better or worse — for example, sitting closer to a delicious pie. Digestion, in this case, is not a purposeful effort but a natural flow, and their conscious efforts are only minor details, while their main state is immersion in the process of eating.
Questions for the reader.
Do you enjoy cooking? Do you feel how the process of cooking fully engages you, subjugating your will, or do you fully control it with your will? What kind of food do you prefer — homogeneous or consisting of pieces that can be distinguished by taste? Do you believe that proper nutrition can significantly influence your health? Do you follow the principles of proper nutrition? Do they actually help you? Do you feel that certain types of food harm your health? Do you try to avoid such food? Do you succeed in this? When you eat food prepared by someone else, does the lack of knowledge of its recipe or unfamiliarity with the cook disturb you? Can you manage the mood and will of your loved ones with the help of food?
The physical body and its movement
The yin approach to the body is that it is experienced. Nothing is done to it, and this is not the goal; however, in a negative variant, a person may be upset about the curvature of their legs, the thickness or thinness of their abdomen, the incorrect shape and position of their breasts, and so on. The yang approach, on the other hand, perceives the body as an object of effort, a form that needs to be improved and brought to the desired appearance.
A person guided by the yang archetype goes to the gym, to a cosmetologist, to a masseur, sometimes even to a surgeon, goes on a strict diet, eats healthy food, and so on. The yin view of the body perceives it as a source of pleasure. Such a person prefers to lounge on the beach, sunbathe in a tanning bed, cozily settle on a sofa, pay great attention to the sheets on which they sleep, and to the comfort of the clothes they wear.
On the contrary, the yang view of the body considers it an instrument of existence in the world. With the help of the body, many things can be done. For example, legs can move you to another place in space, hands can grasp a door handle and open it, and with the same hands, you can punch your enemy or embrace a beloved woman. A person guided by the yin archetype pays more attention to sensations in their body and to the body itself; a person guided by the yang archetype focuses on the work the body performs — for example, carrying a backpack — and the results of that work.
A subtle question is the manifestation of yin and yang archetypes in the physical body itself. The traditional view divides the body into the front and back parts. The front — the face, chest, abdomen, and the front of the thighs — is governed by yang; the back — the back of the head, neck, back, buttocks, and the back of the legs — is governed by yin.
From the point of view of the internal structure, I will mention the organs that control processes in the body: the brain, the endocrine glands that secrete hormones, and striated muscles (those that allow a person to move in the surrounding space). Yin governs tissues as such, which are subject to the influence of hormones and nerve signals. Nerves, as is known, are divided into efferent and afferent — that is, they transmit controlling influences from the brain — both the brain and the spinal cord — and external stimuli that are perceived and transmit corresponding signals to the brain. The former relate to the yang archetype, the latter to yin.
In the mouth, stomach, and large intestine, intense transformation of food occurs, so these organs belong to the yang archetype, while in the small intestine, absorption and assimilation of gastric juice take place, so they can be attributed to the yin archetype.
Blood itself belongs to the yin archetype, but various active agents traveling through it — hormones, lymphocytes, leukocytes — are governed by yang. Lymph and fat themselves belong to yin, but lymph nodes belong to yang.
A reader familiar with anatomy and physiology can continue this description independently, possibly refining and correcting the author’s amateurish judgments on this topic.
Body movements are also quite clearly divided into yin and yang. Yin movements, as it were, limit the body within a certain circle — for example, when a person protects themselves, they cross their arms over their chest — a typically yin gesture, or bring their knees together — also a typically yin position. On the contrary, open movements that reveal a person’s chest, raising the head, gestures directed forward and upward have a pronounced yang character.
When a person closes or partially covers their eyes, they clearly activate the yin archetype; on the contrary, when their eyes open and, as they say, ignite with fire, when their head moves forward, and their gestures are directed toward the interlocutor, the active yang is obviously at work.
The activity of the yin or yang archetype is visible in the position of the palms: if the hands are relaxed and turned to the forearms at a ninety-degree angle, this most likely indicates the activity of yin. If, on the contrary, the hands are tense and are a continuation of the forearms, the active yang is at work.
And finally, let us touch on the topic of clothing.Yin clothing is loose, flowing, unrestrictive, in which a person feels comfortable being and, perhaps, not very comfortable working. These are long dresses, loose Eastern robes with wide, long sleeves, fabrics that generally abound in folds. Yin clothing can be very beautiful, one can admire it for a long time; it forms, together with the person wearing it, a single picture that seems complete, sometimes even framed, so that the thought of it starting to act does not even occur to the person. Conversely, yang clothing is usually more economical, clinging to the body and implying its readiness for certain actions. It is less beautiful but more functional. If we take the example of a medieval knight, the chainmail and shield belong to yin, while the sword belongs to yang. Yin-style clothing creates a certain protection, a kind of boundary of the physical body that separates it from the environment, and within this boundary, the body feels good and comfortable.Yang clothing, on the contrary, is functional; it implies that it should be admired, but it must serve a very specific purpose—to help a person realize their plans. Such clothing is worn by professional social workers and, of course, pop stars, whose attire, in harmony with stage scenery, helps the singer make the right impression on the audience, working in tandem with their voice to emphasize their movements and the meaning of the song.
A question for the reader: Do you like your physical body? Are you inclined to admire it or its parts? Are there people who like it? Do you trust them? How expressive are your movements? Do you consciously use your body to make an impression on your friends and partners? Do you pay attention to the movements and facial expressions of those around you? Do they make any impression on you? Do you consider facial expressions an important part of communication? Do you like the forced smiles on your friends’ faces? How dependent are you on clothing in relaxed situations? In responsible situations? In critical situations? Do you perceive your clothing as an adornment, or is it for you an instrument of influence over people? Do you believe that fashion significantly influences the collective subconscious?
