Avesalom Podvodny
HIGHER ARCHETYPES: THE EXPERIENCE OF PSYCHOLOGICAL RESEARCH
INTRODUCTION
Everything written in this book is perfectly familiar to the reader. He simply does not always remember it or calls it by different names. This book was conceived by the author as a kind of introduction to psychology. It is intended for people who, although not psychologists by education or profession, nevertheless daily encounter numerous representatives of the human race and their problems and are forced in one way or another to adapt to some people and manage others, using methods that are not entirely clear even to themselves.
Communication, or more simply, human interaction, is so everyday and familiar that it seems to a non-professional to contain no special subtleties or mysteries. On the other hand, the highest achievements of professional psychotherapists, businessmen, lawyers, politicians, and diplomats are to a very large extent connected with the ability to subtly adapt and no less subtly influence their partners, using psychological methods, most of which are mastered purely intuitively, while others are not mastered at all.
Royal roads into the unconscious.
The main achievement of theoretical psychology of the 20th century, primarily associated with the name of Sigmund Freud, was the discovery of the unconscious—psychic processes hidden from a person that, however, significantly influence his perception of the world, self-awareness, and behavior. Of course, it cannot be said that Freud was the first to discover the existence of the unconscious, but, firstly, he placed great emphasis on it and declared to the entire civilized world: “The unconscious exists!”—and was heard. Secondly, he explored and described in detail the ways by which one can penetrate the unconscious and learn something about it. The main method Freud used regarding the unconscious was free associations related to the content of a person’s dreams. Freud even said that dreams are the royal road to the unconscious. This point of view was shared by Freud’s most famous student, the Swiss psychologist Carl Jung, who can be considered a forerunner of transpersonal psychology, which developed intensively in the second half of our century. While studying the dreams of his patients, Jung was struck by the fact that these dreams contained symbols that were incomprehensible and unknown even to the patients themselves, yet very significant and popular in other times and cultures. From this, Jung concluded that, through their psyche and unconscious, people are unknowingly connected with others and cultures through universal archetypes, or prototypes, reflecting in personal unconsciousness the main and common themes for all humanity, represented in the most widespread myths, legends, and fairy tales. Like his teacher, Jung also believed that interpreting dreams is the royal road to the individual unconscious.
In the second half of the 20th century, our contemporary, the Czech psychiatrist Stanislav Grof, while studying the effects of the psyche of his patients under the influence of the powerful psychedelic drug LSD, encountered effects of their penetration into the depths of their memory and unconscious that seemed to him and his followers incomparable even with the depth of psychoanalysis. Summarizing the advantages of his method, Grof noted that the royal road to the unconscious is LSD. (In the last decade, this drug, banned due to negative side effects, has been replaced by a milder method of so-called free breathing, which yields similar results of penetration into the psyche.)
What was common to Freud, Jung, Grof, and their followers was the desire to penetrate to the unconscious root of a person’s psychological problems, for example, a primary traumatic experience whose reaction became their current issues. Such an approach to psychotherapy can be called surgical, but it is not the only possible one. In general, for most people, becoming aware of the deep contradictions and traumas of their unconscious is too painful an experience to which they are psychologically unprepared. Therefore, their unconscious resists such direct invasion as much as it can, and the cunning and effectiveness of this resistance can only be admired. A more delicate approach that provokes less unconscious resistance is when the psychologist does not seek to make the patient aware of the unconscious roots and sources of their problems but instead interacts with them indirectly, taking detours. If this approach is successful, the patient poorly understands why the symptoms that troubled him have disappeared or weakened, and the role of the psychotherapist, at least, becomes unclear. The latter circumstance is largely unfavorable for the therapist (firstly, he does not gain proper self-affirmation, and secondly, the client may ask, “What was I paying for?”), but it is beneficial for the client, who does not fall into the plot of the Helpless Victim, which is inevitable with any effective help.
Is there a path to the unconscious that is not directly related to becoming aware of traumatic past experiences and other painful areas? According to the author, such a path is the study of modalities (qualitative characteristics) of a person’s perception and behavior that correspond to the highest, that is, the most abstract archetypes. Whether this path is royal, let the reader judge; the author’s task is to describe it and walk it together with the reader until our paths diverge, that is, until the last page of this book.
Modality.
The study of the human psyche has only just begun, and there is nothing surprising in this, since it is the most complex object known to us in the Universe. A revolutionary discovery of the 20th century was the functional asymmetry of the brain, that is, the anatomical and physiological confirmation of the existence of two fundamentally different types of thinking: logical-discursive (left-hemispheric) and abstract-imagistic (right-hemispheric). In particular, the left hemisphere is focused on the focus, content, and concrete meaning, while the right hemisphere is responsible for the background, environment, and general circumstances and content that form a single picture. These roles might seem equally important; however, this is only true when considering everyday life and human thought. When transitioning to the most subtle and simultaneously the most important aspects of human life—what distinguishes humans from animals and makes them self-aware and spiritual beings capable of dialogue with the Divine beginning of the Universe—it turns out that the role of the right hemisphere sharply increases: according to the author, it clearly becomes the main one. Religious faith, spiritual impulses, and humanism are not logical but imagistic, and rational thought is useful here only on the condition of its unconditional subordination to the primary irrational unified image.
A similar phenomenon is observed in the study of the human psyche and unconscious: the most fundamental of their structures are better grasped by the right rather than the left hemisphere of the researcher (if, of course, the researcher is not left-handed). In particular, the deeper one goes into the unconscious, the more the questions “how?” and “in what style?” become important compared to “what?” and “where?” For the psyche, circumstances, nuances, general content, and sound are often more important than concrete actions, details, and precise relationships. Furthermore, the psyche is extremely associative, and “free associations,” which Freud and Jung used, are apparently not a private psychological technique but a fundamental mechanism linking different spheres and areas of the unconscious. These associations arise according to the principle of a common quality or modality that two otherwise unrelated words or memories share. However, not all qualities or modalities are equally important to the psyche. The most fundamental are those that are constantly present (in one of their variants) in it, often unnoticed by the person. These modalities correspond to the highest, that is, the most abstract archetypes, and are capable of bizarrely overlapping each other, forming the most diverse patterns and interweavings, very individual for each person.
One could even say that the unique psychic individuality of a person lies precisely in the specific mode of the higher archetypes’ interplay peculiar to them, which accompanies their ordinary (or extraordinary) life. A person’s psychological giftedness is primarily determined by how accurately they can (most often subconsciously) perceive the modalities of surrounding reality and respond to them adequately. The complexity here also lies in the fact that these modalities change rather quickly, and the professional’s reaction must be instantaneous. However, the main difficulty lies in overcoming the rigid fixation of modalities inherent in a given person and not imposing them on others. A person who forcefully imposes their modalities on those around them creates the impression of a tyrant, a psychological brute, a thick-skinned rhinoceros, or a rigid egocentric—even if, internally, they may not correspond to these traits. Yet society does not forgive an individual’s inattention to the modalities they employ. Conversely, a person who skillfully and subtly manages the modalities of their own and others’ behavior earns the title of a magician, a favorite of society, the center of social gravity, an administrative talent, a communication genius, and so on. Although their understanding of others may not be profound, the intuitively found keys open far more secret doors than they realize.
The book presented to the reader is, by the author’s design, entirely practical: it enables a diligent and attentive reader not only to familiarize themselves theoretically with the higher archetypes but also to learn to recognize their manifestations in the modalities used by themselves and those around them. It also helps to address the necessary issues—or, in extreme cases, even when the subconscious somehow resists.
The search for archetypes relevant to the era is the task of anthropologists, cultural scholars, and poets; philosophers should engage in contemplation and abstract description of archetypes, while theoretical and practical psychology is responsible for studying their refraction in human psyche, subconsciousness, and behavior. In this book, the author primarily examines the latter aspect—that is, the manifestations of archetypes in human psychology and behavior.
The set of archetypes considered in the book is largely familiar to readers of the author’s previous works, *Esoteric Astrology* and *The Veil of Maya, or Tales for Neurotics*. However, while psychological analysis was only briefly outlined there, in this book the author aims to provide a detailed, broad, and comprehensive picture of archetypal manifestations across most aspects of human existence.
Why is this necessary? The abstract philosophical description of a higher archetype is usually quite simple—so simple that even a first-grader can understand it. Yet the archetype’s action in a specific situation, whether external or internal, lies beyond the content of the corresponding episode, in its particular coloring or modality, which a person typically pays little attention to, though it plays a primary role in the psyche. Numerous psychological problems and imperfections stem from the inaccurate or outright unsuccessful use of basic modalities. Often, it seems as though a deliberate subconscious force is behind such mistakes, literally compelling a person to employ inadequate modalities to their own detriment.
A psychologist of the Freudian or Jungian school, noticing this, will attempt to determine the internal causes of such systematic distortions and uncover relevant childhood experiences. However, this is not always possible, and moreover, it involves overcoming significant subconscious resistance: the psyche does not approve of direct intrusion into its intimate and painful spaces. At the same time, a detailed knowledge of other, usually ignored, variants of perception and behavior associated with the use of different modalities provides a means for substantial (and deeply profound) psychocorrection without the need to search for and correct the “true” causes of neurosis.Understanding by Freud or Grof. This approach has its advantages and disadvantages: it is less striking, often takes considerable time, and requires the client to do a great deal of self-work. On the other hand, it is more “therapeutic” and easier to integrate into the client’s immediate life; moreover, in this approach, healing occurs as an indirect result of the learning process, which, in the author’s view, will be the mainstream direction of psychotherapy in the 21st century.
Modalities and freedom. The question of a person’s inner freedom and the ability to “master oneself” is closely tied to their awareness and mastery of the modalities of their external and internal behavior. This is even evident in everyday life: friends and relatives often take offense at each other not because of what they do to one another, but because of how they do it. A request expressed in a commanding tone; an apology delivered in an accusatory manner; carelessly expressed sympathy—these are typical causes of offense, both short-term and long-term. However, careful observation shows that such inadequacies are not accidental; what seems like an obvious and simple behavioral correction turns out to be psychologically—due to reasons unclear even to the person themselves—an extremely difficult task. Nevertheless, once overcome, a person experiences relief in life overall, gaining far greater freedom in their experiences and actions than before.
Goals. By detailing the stages of working with higher archetypes and the manifestations of corresponding modalities in various life situations, the author pursued three main goals. The first was to provide the reader with as complete a description as possible of these archetypes and their influence on the human psyche and behavior. The second goal was to help the reader correctly perceive people who differ significantly from themselves and find adequate means of communication with them. Finally, the third and most important goal for the author was to create a practical guide for self-development: while reading the descriptions, the reader, as the author hopes, will not only recognize these archetypes in acquaintances, colleagues, and cinematic characters but also gain keys to developing the most appropriate skills and abilities.
If the reader sets the goal of actively mastering the material, after reading each fragment describing an archetype, they can ask themselves the following questions:
* Which of the described modalities are most characteristic of me, and which of those around me?
* Which of the described modalities are unbearable to me, and which to my friends and enemies?
* What range of modalities is fundamentally accessible to me, and which do I never use and for what reasons? Are the latter serious, or are they merely masking something deeper?
* What range of modalities do I attribute to those around me, and how does it correlate with the range I allow myself? What do I actually allow myself?
After this, the reader can invent a life example for each modality described by the author where it is used and try to implement it in practice. Then, they can examine their life experience from this perspective:
* Which of life’s difficult problems could have been avoided or resolved with far less effort simply by carefully selecting the modalities used?
* What cases of distorted or completely incorrect understanding of a person or situation were due to a misunderstanding of the modality of what was happening?
The author has no doubt that serious reflection on these topics will lead the reader to unexpected and far-reaching discoveries.
Universal archetypes and psychology
Time and archetypes. The dynamics of time are determined and revealed by the dominant archetypes in society; a change of eras means a change in archetypes or, at least, in the ways they manifest and are accentuated. As a rule, the leading archetypes of an era are veiled and mediated by social rituals and generally accepted semi-conscious ideas that no one disputes or questions—simply because it does not occur to them. The air we breathe is not a subject of discussion—until it changes its chemical composition so drastically that we must adapt anew or, if that proves impossible, qualitatively alter it.
Now, however, not only are the forms of social life of large collectives changing—the human being themselves is changing. The archetypal variants of individual and collective destinies are changing, and the very nature of humans as divine creations and divine instruments in the world is becoming incomparably clearer. Information and techniques previously available only to a narrow circle of the chosen are being declassified and made accessible to all who seek them—of course, losing their initial charisma and transforming from the last steps of the East into the first, yet still opening them to anyone who aspires to them.
The Greek word archetype translates as “prototype.” Thanks to the Swiss psychologist Carl Jung, it entered Western culture in the 20th century with the meaning of a “universal pattern,” though Jung himself understood the archetype quite concretely—as a universal mythological plot or symbol present in most religious cultures. Over time, the meaning of this word expanded to represent universal circumstances without losing its core resonance.
The search and initial description of the leading (active) archetypes of an era is the task of cultural studies and philosophy, but without a detailed study of their influence on the psyche of individuals and collectives, it cannot be considered complete, since it is in the psyche that the archetype manifests most fully and comprehensively.
Archetypes and modalities. An archetype manifests in a person’s internal and external behavior not directly but through a certain modality—that is, through the quality of the processes occurring inside and outside the person. People often do not pay attention to the modalities they use or those directed at them, focusing more on the “essence of the matter.” However, for the subconscious—and for a person’s life as a whole—modalities play no less important a role than the conscious “essence of the matter,” coloring it with certain tones and shades that ultimately become the main factor, while what seemed essential often recedes into the background or even proves insignificant.
One of the tasks of a practical psychologist is to help the client clearly see the range of modalities they use and to expand it. Therefore, much of this study is devoted to where and how this spectrum can be expanded.
Universal and private archetypes. As a rule, higher archetypes do not exist in isolation: they appear as related groups (if you will, clans), closely interconnected both philosophically and in individual psychology. It is natural to describe them systematically—in this way, at least, the author proceeds. The complete set of private archetypes related to one another forms a universal archetype, whose description at the level of the modalities of the psyche corresponds to its examination from a single and very specific perspective.
What does such an examination provide? For example, from the author’s experience, any psychological problems a person faces, no matter how concrete they may seem, are always accompanied by sharp imbalances and interactions of private archetypes (modalities) within a certain universal archetype (often several at once). Therefore, learning to balance the relevant private archetypes properly, a person, even if not solving their pressing problem radically, at least significantly improves the unhealthy ground on which it grew.
It can be confidently said that an archetype defines a certain way of seeing (perceiving, interpreting) the world; the private archetypes within a given universal archetype collectively provide a comprehensive view that allows one to grasp an object (process) from all sides, leaving nothing unnoticed.
As an example, let us briefly examine the universal archetypes detailed in the corresponding sections of the book. The holistic archetype. This universal archetype consists of two private archetypes: the global and the local.A global archetype corresponds to a view of an object as a whole, when it is considered as a single closed system existing in isolation from the rest of (external) reality—this is, if you will, the archetype of a frame imposed on a certain fragment of the world, separating it from the surrounding space with an impenetrable wall and uniting it into a single whole. A local archetype, on the other hand, considers the object as a distinct part (detail) of a larger whole, with which it is connected by various relationships to other parts (details). In this case, neither the whole itself nor its other details are clearly perceived—rather, they are implied as if shrouded in thick fog—while all attention is focused solely on the given object. Thus, the global and local perspectives on an object are, in a sense, opposing and mutually complementary: the global view implies examining the object as a whole, where all details, in particular, recede into the background, while the local view fixes on one of the details (elements, parts) of the object, studies its features, and examines its connections with other details within the whole.
The dyadic archetype (see the author’s book “The Veil of Maya, or Tales for Neurotics”). This universal archetype also consists of two archetypes, which in Chinese tradition are called yin (the feminine principle) and yang (the masculine principle); in Western tradition, they roughly correspond to the concepts of matter and spirit. The yang (masculine) principle is typically described as active, stimulating, creative, and embodying; the yin (feminine) principle appears as inert, reactive (responding to influences), receptive, and susceptible to transformation (embodiment). Thus, it can be said that yang acts, while yin is acted upon; everything related to the characteristics of action—intention, energy, tools—are yang attributes, while everything related to the object of influence—its qualities, modes, and aspects of response—are yin attributes.
The dialectical archetype (see the author’s book “Esoteric Astrology”). This universal archetype includes three particular archetypes corresponding to three phases of an object’s existence: creation, realization, and dissolution. The archetype (phase) of creation corresponds to the period when the object emerges in the surrounding environment seemingly from nothing or at its expense; it is built, created, takes on debt, and undergoes initial trials under artificially simplified conditions; here, its karmic task is merely set. The archetype (phase) of realization corresponds to the period in the object’s life when it is in balance with the environment, fully participates in the division of labor prescribed by the external world, takes on small debts and promptly repays them, and generally fulfills its karmic task. The archetype (phase) of dissolution corresponds to the period of the object’s destruction; here, it ceases to perform the functions it fulfilled during the phase of realization, loses balance with the environment, becoming its victim, repays long-term obligations incurred during the phase of creation, and completes its karmic task by finishing what was lost during the phase of realization. Temporal archetypes (phases of time) in the life of any person and in any situation change in a highly capricious manner, and attentive tracking of them provides a person with a much better understanding of the dynamics of external and internal processes.
Individuality and modalities. Every person needs to acquire and develop their unique individuality (even if they are unaware of it or have repressed this need into the subconscious). This individuality typically manifests in subtle nuances and accents that arise spontaneously and seemingly from nowhere, coloring their behavior, worldview, and self-expression in specific tones and shades. However, these nuances often fail to receive a sufficiently favorable response from the environment, and the person attempts to radically alter them—to the great detriment of their individuality. Another way in which a person’s personal destiny can be significantly distorted occurs when they disregard important modalities of their external and internal life, living “as it happens” or “like everyone else,” ignoring the subtle (and often not-so-subtle) nuances that are crucial to them. In such cases, the half-tones and shades that go unnoticed by them but are vitally important pull them along someone else’s life scripts, from which they vainly try to break free through direct action (acting on short-sighted “essence”), and upon realizing the futility of such attempts, they may even give up in despair. In reality, finding and asserting the right to one’s own modalities of behavior and perception is the most important spiritual task a person faces, without resolving which they cannot fully realize themselves or accomplish the key tasks of their current life. However, this is not so simple—particularly because the modalities of external and internal behavior that manifest in a person during childhood or intensively develop in adolescence often represent imposed familial and social conditioning that must be discarded or significantly adjusted. And even if a person takes on this task, they often do so spontaneously and inconsistently, lacking an adequate language to express their issues; the author’s efforts are dedicated to creating such a language.
Modalities and the subconscious. By definition, modalities are typically perceived by the subconscious—the conscious mind directs attention to the essence of what is happening. When a person deliberately masters a new modality, it naturally becomes the focus of their attention—but usually only temporarily, until it is assimilated, after which it recedes to the periphery of consciousness once more. On the other hand, modalities are ideally suited for perception and retention by the subconscious—it is far more archetypal and symbolic than the conscious mind, and modalities are its natural language. In the early 20th century, Sigmund Freud suggested that the royal road to the subconscious is through the interpretation of dreams, a view shared by his student Carl Jung. In the second half of the same century, the third great researcher of the subconscious, Stanislav Grof, who conducted experiments with LSD, claimed that the royal road to the subconscious is through psychedelic trances. However, both (i.e., dreams and LSD-induced trance) are deliberately altered states of consciousness, and while not disputing the classics in the slightest, the author believes that even in ordinary states of consciousness, a person has direct access to their subconscious—so to speak, a third royal road to it is through observing the modalities a person uses and responds to; many of the following pages of this book are devoted to illustrations of this thesis.
Modalities: syntony and complementarity. In any interaction between a person and the external world or with themselves, the interplay between modalities is highly significant, though often unnoticed by consciousness. If a person responds to me using the same modality I employed in addressing them, their reply will be syntonic, or, as it is sometimes called, mirror-like. However, a syntonic response does not always suit me, and may even derail communication entirely: for example, if I speak in a yang (active) modality—say, passionately persuading my partner to do something—I assume they will listen and accept my suggestions, meaning they will, at least for the duration of my monologue, adopt an yin modality. The modality that naturally complements this is called complementary to it (a calque from the English “complementary”—corresponding to something), and we will use the same term later for archetypes: thus, the yang archetype is complementary to the yin archetype, and vice versa. Using any modality in dialogue that differs from the complementary one constitutes non-complementary behavior, which complicates communication; however, non-complementarity can vary in degree: from very crude, which effectively tears apart the fabric of interaction, to mild or barely noticeable, which only indirectly complicates it. For example, abruptly interrupting a speaker mid-sentence and imposing unrelated counterarguments has a “yang-on-yang” quality and is undoubtedly grossly non-complementary.Less crude, though also non-complementary, is the reaction of the “yin to yin” type, illustrated by the ambiguous evening conversation of a married couple:
– I’ve done so much around the house today, and I really don’t feel like cleaning the kitchen alone…
– I had such a tough workday, and I need to check the markets urgently.
Thus, the archetype retreats into the background, into modality, into the penumbra, deeper into the subconscious. Why force it into the mercilessly bright light of consciousness? The answer is simple: the world is governed by subtleties (the subtlest of them being the Absolute), and if we wish to penetrate even slightly into the finest lacework of karma, ignoring modalities will only tear holes in it and tie additional knots. On the contrary, sensing the archetype, expressed in a constant semi-conscious attention to the modalities we and others employ, grants us a subtle and precise sense of timing, a sense of proportion, and excellent communicative abilities. Yet this, of course, is still far from everything. The subtle world governs the primary processes of the dense. The language of the subtle world is the language of archetypes and abstract qualities that tint dense events with watercolor tones of corresponding modalities. Therefore, by consciously directing attention to them, we gain a direct key to subtle karma—all the more effective the better we can distinguish shades and half-tones. From a psychological perspective,Archetypes and modalities are the most adequate language for describing the deep layers of the subconscious, where very abstract symbols reign supreme and there is no room for any concreteness in their everyday understanding: even a completely concrete traumatic experience, becoming a source of a significant block in the psyche, inevitably first undergoes a stage of significant generalization and emotional coloring, beginning to paint the entire life of a person, functioning as if “under the archetype.” A person who has developed constant attention to the modalities used by others and by themselves will never be caught off guard by sudden, dramatic, and even catastrophic events and changes in life: they are always preceded by significant imbalances and tensions at the level of subtle archetypal manifestations. If these are noticed in time and adequately understood, they can indicate ways to prevent a future catastrophe or significantly mitigate its impact.
Archetypes and life plots. Sooner or later, any person realizes that their life is not a chaotic set of random events but, on the contrary, is subject to certain patterns or a plot, from which it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to break free. At the same time, the actual content of life may change, but some of its psychologically most significant features and patterns remain unchanged, regardless of circumstances. Probably, everyone in their youth has had to write or at least read a treatise titled: “What is ‘bad luck’ and how to deal with it?” However, with age, some individuals somehow lose interest in this topic, as if they have found a clear constructive answer to the question posed, while others fully submit to the insidious invisible entity called Misfortune, becoming its inseparable companions, and no effort on their part helps to divert its attention from them.
The well-known American psychologist Eric Berne introduced special terms—characteristics of three types of fate or life path: the Loser, the Non-Loser (Average), and the Winner. The Loser is characterized by consistently failing any of their more or less serious plans, no matter what support and advances they receive from the external environment. Even if everything points to the success of their endeavor, at the last critical moment, they will inevitably fall ill, get into a car accident, or simply forget to convey important information—and the matter will be ruined. The Average tries to avoid major failures, and as a rule, succeeds. They know their ceiling well and do not aim higher, but at the same time, they diligently maintain their level. If an opportunity arises to climb two steps higher at the cost of significant effort, they will refuse—either out of fear or from natural modesty, deciding that such a task is beyond their capabilities. They are neither a hero nor a beggar, clearly and successfully avoiding both extremes, fearing and shamefully avoiding them deep down.
The Winner does not impose any a priori limitations on themselves: if fate offers them the position of President of the United States or the gift of charisma as a guru-miracle worker, they will gladly accept this position and even make significant efforts to achieve the corresponding goal if it tempts them. On the other hand, they intuitively know the line separating what is realistically achievable from what is fundamentally impossible for them personally and harbor an unhidden disgust for major failures—not only their own (which are extremely rare) but also others’. As a rule, they set realistic goals for themselves and achieve what they want, though sometimes at a significantly higher cost than the Average.
Berne asserts (and the reader will likely agree) that each of these three plots is extremely stable, so living half a life as an Average and then reclassifying as a Winner is very difficult, if not impossible. What determines such life roles and plots? If we ask this question retrospectively, the roots can be sought in the karma of past (or future) incarnations, the specifics of the birth process (perinatal experiences), early childhood impressions, upbringing, and so on. However, searching for causes does not negate the study of the actual mechanism of living out a role and plot: why does everything work out for one person according to one scheme, while for another, it is completely different?
The answer to this question can be found in a careful study of the modalities currently used by the person, their behavior—complementary in some cases and deliberately non-complementary in others. Correcting non-complementary modalities may seem like a superficial change in a person’s manners, but psychologically, it is a subtle intervention into the deep layers of the subconscious responsible for global life plots. For example, the life plot of the Loser, regardless of its origin, usually indicates a person’s difficulties with the dialectical archetype, an inability (or perhaps unconscious unwillingness) to distinguish between the phase of creation and the phase of dissolution: a typical cause of chronic failures is stopping efforts precisely when they are absolutely necessary for the project’s completion—that is, the habit of self-interruption, which sometimes escalates into neurosis.
However, such behavior can be corrected using any life material, even one far removed from traumatic and essential significance, allowing for indirect therapeutic influence, somewhat similar to metaphor therapy by M. Erickson. The idea here is that the subconscious, unbeknownst to the person, quickly generalizes specific behavior that correctly uses the modality of time to the archetypal level. Thus, a person’s work of tracking and correctly using the modalities of higher archetypes can lead to changes even in global life plots.
In which direction can this work be directed? Of course, the answer to this question depends significantly on the specific archetype, but there are some stages common to all cases. Since higher archetypes are usually grouped into related families that form one universal archetype, their processing occurs not only in parallel but also in an interdependent manner. Therefore, it is more accurate to speak of levels of processing universal archetypes, which are briefly described below in general terms and then illustrated with specific examples.
Stage 1. Primary Chaos. At this stage, a person does not differentiate the private archetypes that make up this universal one. Naturally, they do not think about using the corresponding modalities, nor do they notice how others or even they themselves use them. This stage is characterized by the use of modalities that are as if fused and undifferentiated but incompatible. If you ask such a person which modality they mean, they will likely be confused and unable to answer, as the question will seem meaningless to them.
Example: “I’m leaving!” a furious husband declares to his wife. The phase (modality) of time he uses here is extremely important because if he is in the creation phase—that is, just beginning to “leave”—his wife has a good chance to correct herself, make amends, and persuade him to change his anger to mercy. If the phrase was uttered in the modality of realization, it means the husband has reached his limit and (mentally or even physically) is packing his bags and preparing a new place to live, so a fleeting apology will not be enough for his wife; she will need to work seriously on improving the family situation. If the husband uttered his phrase in the modality of dissolution, it means the question of his further stay in the family has practically been decided negatively; he is embarking on distant travels and informing her of this, so resistance from her side will be almost futile—or will require extreme measures such as a grand hysterical scene with threats of suicide.For the first stage of processing a universal archetype, there is a mixing of incompatible modalities; in this case, a man outwardly does not indicate any of the three described, as if offering his wife to choose for herself how to understand him, but if she perceives him inconsistently (for example, in the modality of dissolution instead of the subconscious understanding of creation) and reacts accordingly (saying, “Farewell, my love!”), he will become greatly irritated—unable even to explain why. Another feature of the first stage of processing a universal archetype is the crude self-incomplementarity (incongruence) of a person’s behavior, expressed in attempts to simultaneously employ incompatible modalities. “I want!” declares a capricious wife. What does she present to her husband: her state or intention, yin or yang? According to the (semi-conscious) woman’s thinking, both at once, because neither modality alone satisfies her: the yin is too weak (“Do you want too little?”—the dissatisfied husband may retort), while the yang is not feminine enough (a real woman does not command—she only permits through indirect signs!).
Stage 2. Identification. If at the first stage a person does not distinguish private archetypes within a given universal one and pays no attention to their modalities, then at the second stage he begins to distinguish them, at least in situations where they are clearly manifested. Figuratively speaking, he notices tones but misses the overtones. Usually, one of the private archetypes captures his attention and becomes his favorite, while the rest are often ignored, neglected as indistinct, insignificant, or crude; they displease him or he considers them unworthy of himself. At this stage, the main signs of the inclusion of private archetypes are highlighted, and to some extent, the person begins to consciously or semi-consciously track them, realizing that they play a significant role in what happens to him and around him. The favored (beloved) private archetype is explored quite diversely, though still superficially, while the others remain practically unstudied. This stage is characterized by the absence of any developed differential diagnosis; the person does not reflect on the criteria by which to determine the inclusion of one or another private archetype, and as a result, such effects (unnoticed by him) as archetype substitution and their fusion (the latter being typical of the first stage) are common. Substitution of one private archetype for another, especially when the favored archetype replaces one that is ignored, is typical of the second stage. In other words, a person masters the modality corresponding to the private archetype he has chosen and tries to apply this modality everywhere and constantly, even in cases where it is entirely inappropriate or even impossible. In the latter case, he actually uses another modality but pretends to himself that it is the one he prefers. At this stage, situations of non-complementarity are recognized; that is, the person generally understands which modalities should be applied in response to external stimuli but does not always follow this understanding. The reason for this is most often the repression of the remaining modalities by the favored one, which is psychologically understandable: he simply handles it better. Situations requiring the application of an archetype he has not mastered usually put him at a loss, making him constrained, neurotic, or hysterical. What is characteristic of this stage is that non-complementarity is noticed most often in one’s own behavior rather than in the external world. For example, during the processing of a dyadic archetype, it is common for a person to choose the yang (active influence) as his favored archetype and the yin (the principle of perception, obedience, submission) as the despised, neglected one. In this case, he may interrupt his partner and respond to aggression with aggression, completely failing to notice the non-complementarity of his behavior and considering it not only natural but the only possible response. On the other hand, he will notice the non-complementary reaction of the external world to his behavior much sooner, though not immediately. For instance, if he is a boss, he will quickly divide his subordinates into two categories: obedient and defiant, treating the former significantly more positively, though this does not mean he assigns them less work—quite the opposite. A typical substitution in our example would be expressed in the fact that a person with a yang emphasis at the second stage of processing a dyadic archetype will be unable to apologize. The simplest phrase, “I was wrong,” will prove nearly impossible for him, and he will attempt to replace the yin modality with a yang one by offering indirect apologies such as, “I made a mistake and I take responsibility for it,” but more likely, he will try to ignore such situations and shift the conversation to another topic. He will sense his state but refrain from expressing it in explicit words. Directly stating his state is tantamount to admitting weakness, incompetence, and an inability to act decisively.
Processing of private archetypes. At the second stage of processing a universal archetype, the process of working through its constituent private archetypes begins. We consider three main levels of processing a private archetype: barbaric, amateur, and professional. At the barbaric level, a person is unaware of the archetype and lacks the corresponding modality entirely. He is carried away by his mood and, within its framework, perceives himself, unable to resist it in any way. At the amateur level, a person already recognizes the modality of his archetype, tracks it to some extent, and acts in accordance with its manifestation in himself, others, and the situation as a whole. At the same time, he can barely alter this modality but adjusts his behavior accordingly. At the professional level, a person sees many submodalities within the modalities of a given archetype, can modify them as needed, and to some extent can change the modality of this private archetype to that of a related one. In his behavior and perception, he can control the shift in modalities used by others and arising in surrounding situations. At the second stage of processing a universal archetype, a person usually singles out and emphasizes one of its constituent private archetypes, which becomes a favorite and is consistently preferred, typically processed to the amateur level; the other private archetypes mostly remain at the barbaric level of processing, which does not trouble the person. For example, in a case where the favored archetype is yin, a person will listen carefully to what is happening around him, strive to perceive it fully and deeply, track his states, and value qualities such as plasticity, receptivity, and teachability, while reacting quite negatively to most explicit manifestations of the yang principle, considering it crude in its pure form. From his perspective, the yang principle is sometimes necessary but must be greatly refined by the yin.
Stage 3. Competition. At this stage, a person realizes that mastering all private archetypes within a universal one is essential and completes the initial differential diagnosis. Now he possesses, to some extent intuitively and to some extent consciously, a system of signs by which he determines the dominant archetype in a given situation and understands the necessity of complementary behavior, including the use of archetypes whose modalities he has not yet mastered well, in situations where the environment demands it. At this stage, the inclusion of archetypes resembles the activation of traffic lights regulating the intense flow of urban transport.He understands that if he carefully follows the traffic lights’ instructions and acts complementarily—driving on green and braking on red—he will at least avoid serious catastrophe, but the traffic lights themselves remain beyond his control for now: he is forced to obey them like a certain dictatorship. Yet he still retains one favorite and most mastered archetype, within whose modality various submodalities are beginning to appear (for now in small numbers, but they vary with pleasure). As for the other, less favored private archetypes, he at least acknowledges that in other people they may be dominant and highly developed, as if innate to them, and he no longer reacts with the negativity typical of the second stage.
Let us consider, for example, the dialectical archetype at the third stage of its development. A person whose beloved of the three possible archetypes is the archetype of fulfillment loves and understands responsible work as such, as well as situations where a person is in balance with the environment—taking from it as much as they give back. Such a person can recognize that there are (though sometimes encountered) others for whom the primary life archetype is the phase of creation, where one must take advances from the environment without thinking about when repayment will be due. (At the second stage of processing the dialectical archetype, such an attitude toward life would have provoked in our hero feelings of strong irritation or total denial.)
This means that, finding himself in a creative situation, our hero can psychologically switch and relieve himself of at least part of the burden of responsibility characteristic of the fulfillment modality, relax a little, and at least feel like the archetype of creation. (At the second stage of processing the dialectical archetype, this would have been completely impossible for him.) At the third stage, all private archetypes are processed within the universal. Typically, they all reach an amateur level, while the main, most beloved archetype by the person transitions to a professional level: in its modality, the person sees various submodalities and learns to regulate them according to their needs and intentions. He now monitors the complementarity of his behavior with much greater subtlety and distinguishes non-complementary behavior in others, especially when they employ the modality of their most developed archetype.
It is interesting that a person’s acceptance of their least favorite archetypes often occurs through gradual internalization. This means that initially, he acknowledges the possibility of others using a modality he dislikes and has not mastered: “They can do it, I cannot.” After some time, he begins to use this modality himself, but as if under external pressure and exclusively in external behavior, while internally—within his inner world—he tries to replace it with a modality he has mastered and loves. Finally, the last stage is the internal acceptance of disliked modalities.
In many cases, processing “lagging” modalities is easier in a playful mode. For example, a person uninclined to give direct orders or assert their intentions and will directly may find it easier by taking on the role of a despotic king from a fairy tale.
Thus, for the third stage of processing the universal archetype, it is characteristic that the person recognizes all their private archetypes and develops initial skills in complementary behavior and perception. However, the inclusion of archetypes—both in the external and internal worlds—remains largely unpredictable and entirely uncontrollable for him.
Stage 4. Cooperation.
At the fourth stage, the person has already developed all private archetypes to an amateur level, and some to a professional level, and discovers that through an effort of will they can, to a greater or lesser extent, not only change the submodality within a given private archetype but also switch from one private archetype to another—that is, change modalities. At the same time, he notices that both in his subconscious and in the external world, there is something akin to a war between different private archetypes.
The first impression is that there is antagonism and complete incompatibility between private archetypes. This means that each seeks to occupy a certain position and does not disengage even when the situation changes. This can be called the inertia of the psyche: having grown accustomed to using a certain modality, it is difficult for a person to switch quickly to another, but this inertia turns out to be much greater than one might a priori assume.
In other words, a person who understands that in a given situation it would be appropriate to shift from an yin modality to a yang one, and knows in principle how to do so, encounters a consistent resistance of astonishing strength, the nature of which is completely unclear to them—almost as if the archetype were saying from within: “Either you serve me, or I serve you—terribly.” Thus, the first phase of relations between different private archetypes within the universal is fixation, or complete incompatibility. As if the archetype were saying: “Either me, or no one.” This phase also occurs in the second stage of processing the universal archetype.
The second phase consists of jealousy and rivalry among specific private archetypes. This is a higher level of processing relationships, since jealousy and rivalry imply the simultaneous—albeit conflicted—inclusion of private archetypes, which does not happen in the first phase: there, one archetype is activated while all other modalities are simply excluded. Here, however, they come into play but conflict or compete with one another.
This is evident, for example, in a person’s inability to maintain the modality they need and spontaneously switching to the rival archetype’s modality, just as they cannot hold onto that one for long and switch back. A kind of pendulum arises, neither position of which satisfies the person, and the oscillation mode is forced. Such behavior is typical of conscientious parents who try to raise their children with kindness and love but lack the patience and moral strength to contain the child’s chaotic nature and negativity. The result is upbringing described as a “carrot and stick” policy, where the carrot and stick are combined in a style that the parents themselves do not approve of but cannot think of anything better.
In this case, the yin modality consists of creating conditions that indirectly encourage children toward proper behavior and development, while the yang modality involves imposing the parents’ direct will through pressure, and in case of disobedience, threats and punishments. This phase is characteristic of the third stage of processing the universal archetype.
The third phase of processing the relationships between private archetypes can be described as coordination: the person has learned to skillfully manipulate the relevant modalities so that they activate according to their needs and do not compete but rather cooperate with one another. One should not think that this happens effortlessly, as if by itself (though at first glance it may seem so). In reality, behind this naturalness lies meticulous work to precisely coordinate the sequence of modalities used and strictly adhere to specific rules of this coordination. These rules are usually discovered by the person when they reach a professional level of processing private archetypes, and it is then that they realize their importance.
At the fourth phase of processing the relationships between private archetypes, their combination at different levels is achieved—matryoshka-like unions, where, for example, a person says a phrase whose meaning relates to one modality, while their intonation and facial expression relate to another. Such combinations of modalities at different levels initially occur spontaneously, and only through prolonged effort does the person make them a conscious tool of their behavior. For example, overlaying an yin overtone on a yang modality is sometimes called “an iron hand in a velvet glove”—a highly effective technique for those who use it consciously.At this stage of the relationship between private archetypes, not only does the antagonism between them completely cease, but the level of complementarity in their interactions turns out to be much higher than the person had ever imagined possible. During the fourth stage of processing the universal archetype, a person experiences an elevation in the relationship between their private archetypes to the third, and then the fourth phase, resulting in the development of a refined sense of humor tied to an intuitive grasp of the interplay of modalities, their superimposition upon one another, and the art of subtle manipulation—not directly (which is usually perceived as rudeness), but by incorporating the desired modality as an overtone, that is, as an internal “matryoshka” of the second or third level.
Stage 5. Synthesis. It might seem that nothing can exist beyond the fourth stage—yet this is not the case. Any learning process implies the internalization of a skill into the subconscious, and when a person has fully mastered the skill of working with multi-level “matryoshka” modalities, they may no longer consciously think about the modality corresponding to this universal archetype. A synthesis arises naturally, where seemingly contradictory and incompatible modalities are used simultaneously, each with its own emphasis and at its own depth level, without contradicting one another but instead creating a unique, emotionally rich, and deeply meaningful pattern tailored to the individual. Such a quality is found in great poetry and in charismatic leaders.
At first glance, the fifth stage resembles the first, but in reality, it differs fundamentally, much like a solution differs from a chaotic mixture of particles. If, in the phase of primordial chaos, private archetypes can be likened to a mob driven by vague instincts and torn by contradictions (such as a band of robbers), then at the fifth stage, there exists a unified collective that has undergone a long developmental path, bound by visible and invisible connections, and capable of coordinated action.
Understanding the Archetype. To truly comprehend and deeply study an archetype, considerable effort is required. Its abstract-philosophical formulation is usually extremely simple—even a five-year-old child can grasp it. However, in life, the archetype always manifests indirectly, and one must learn to recognize its handwriting. The corresponding modality may also appear in vastly different ways depending on specific circumstances, and to recognize the archetype, one must examine its manifestations across a broad spectrum of external and internal life domains. Only then does a person gain clear intuitive knowledge of the archetype, and its subtleties become visible, including its subtle, indirect inclusions, such as in the form of submodalities of other archetypes.
What is required to master an archetype, understand it, and sense its inherent modality? First, one should reflect on situations characteristic of the intense activation of a given archetype. What are they? Conversely, what are the situations in which this archetype is entirely absent, i.e., switched off? What are the signs of its activation and deactivation? What are its levels of processing, that is, at which levels can this archetype be activated and operate? Finally, the most crucial aspect in analyzing an archetype is its manifestations in a person: how does the activation of the archetype influence the individual, their inner world, their self-expression, their external activity, and their perception?
The fullness and detail with which we examine a person’s life directly determine the completeness of our understanding of the archetype. It is important to recognize that at any given moment, at least one of the private archetypes that constitute this universal one is present in the human psyche, coloring their life in a particular way. No matter what happens to a person, one should be able to answer the question: which private archetype from this universal family is currently active?
If this question never leaves you at a loss, it means you have deeply penetrated the nature of the given universal archetype and truly felt it. If doubts arise on this topic, there is room for deeper exploration and expansion of your understanding of the archetype.
Thus, no matter which sphere of a person’s inner or outer life we consider, we will find traces of one or another private archetype. One must simply learn to look not at the essence of a phenomenon or process, but at its quality and its archetypal characteristics. The archetype manifests in the most abstract and subtle realms of the human psyche—in what is called worldview, world-sensation, and self-awareness. On the other hand, one might suppose that each higher archetype corresponds to its own distinct mode of perception, world-sensation, and self-awareness. This implies that for each higher archetype, there exists a background subconscious program that personally serves it and significantly influences all conscious and unconscious processes without exception.
This last hypothesis requires empirical research, and the author hopes that in the future, it will be conducted with all possible thoroughness and care. The descriptions of the archetypes in the following parts of the book were crafted by the author to provide not only a theoretical understanding of them and their modalities but also to serve as a practical guide. This means that by following these descriptions, the reader will be able to test themselves and determine which archetypes are more developed within them and which are less so, which play a greater or lesser role in their life.
Furthermore, they may offer these descriptions to friends as a questionnaire, thereby gaining insight into how they are perceived from the outside—in terms of the archetypes they employ. Wherever the gap between self-assessment and others’ assessments is significant, the roots of self-deception and various psychological issues likely lie. Additionally, and not least of all, the author’s goal was to foster mutual understanding among people, helping the reader realize that another person behaves in an incomprehensible, baffling, or irritating way not out of malice but because a specific archetype, inherent to their psychotype, governs them—and this is precisely how they should be perceived, along with fine-tuning the submodalities within the framework of the modalities naturally inherent to them.
If, as a result of reading this book, the reader gains a deeper understanding of themselves and the people around them, then the main goal the author set for themselves will have been achieved.
