In Dialogue with Jung
Love as a remembrance of the Self
The encounter
I don’t know exactly when I first encountered him. Perhaps in a book about dreams, or through an article where the word synchronicity appeared like a mystical anchor in a sea of coincidence. It was a long time ago — that I do remember — but one day he was simply there: Carl Gustav Jung. As a human, as a presence. As someone who walks beside me. Someone who gazes with me into the inner world as sacred space. And I recognized something. A kinship. A shared knowing: that the human being is not separate — he has simply forgotten he is connected.
My philosophy has always danced around the core of love. Not the romantic kind, but love as the essence of existence. As that which permeates, binds, and animates everything. In Jung, I recognized not only a thinker, but a soul-knower. Someone who did not see the psyche as a machine, but as a mysterious landscape — a place where love remembers who she is.
Love as a unifying principle
“Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.”
— C.G. Jung (Collected Works, Vol. 7)
For Jung, love is a force that transcends the ego. Not a strategy of the self, but an ancient movement toward wholeness. The process of individuation is not a final destination, but a path of love — through which the human being approaches their totality. The one who acknowledges their shadow, faces their wounds, and approaches the Self — does so in love. Not as sentiment, but as an inner devotion to truth.
To me, love is the original field in which we exist — the connective tissue of human, nature, and cosmos. Jung gave me the language to say: love is not merely relational, but also psychic, cosmic, archetypal. It is that which separates in order to reconnect.
Synchronicity – the symbolism of connectedness
Jung did not believe in coincidence. He believed in meaning. When two events coincide without a causal relationship, yet share a deep, inner significance, he called it synchronicity. To him, this was evidence of an acausal connecting principle — a kind of cosmic echo of the interconnectedness between psyche and world.
“Synchronicity is an ever present reality for those who have eyes to see.”
— C.G. Jung (Collected Works, Vol. 8)
In my own life, love, too, reveals itself through synchronicity. Repeating numbers. Dreams that point forward. Encounters that arrive the moment you need them. Jung taught me: these are not random occurrences. They are memories of who you truly are. Whispers of the Self. An inner calling to return to the stream of connection — to the field of love in which everything is already contained.
The Self as inner origin
Jung envisioned the Self as the totality of the psyche — both conscious and unconscious aspects, including archetypes and shadow. The Self is the divine core of the human being: their compass, their origin, and their destination.
“The Self is a union of opposites par excellence.”
— C.G. Jung (Collected Works, Vol. 9ii)
In my philosophy, this Self is not only psychological, but existential. It is what remains when all roles have fallen away. The Self is love remembering itself. Jung helped me see that the path toward the Self is a path of love: radically honest, painful at times, but always healing.
The alchemy of transformation
In his later work, Jung became fascinated with alchemy — not as a primitive precursor to chemistry, but as an inner symbolic language. The alchemists who sought to turn lead into gold were, in truth, engaged in a psychic metaphor: the transformation of the raw matter of the soul into consciousness, love, and truth.
To me, this is exactly what life is: an alchemical process in which art, language, loss, and healing work together to give shape to love. Not love as butterflies in your stomach, but as the courage to stay, to feel, to transform. In my paintings, my writings, my relationships — everywhere I’m engaged in this inner alchemy.
An ethics of inner life
Where many modern systems revolve around power, control and performance, Jung calls for something radically different: inner life. He invites us to an ethics that does not begin with rules, but with relationship. Not with objective truths, but with lived truth.
My work resonates with this: empathy, truth, connectedness — these are not abstractions, but ways of living. Jung gave me the language to express my conviction that only those who acknowledge their inner world can take responsibility in the outer one.
In conclusion: the remembrance of connection
“We are born at a given moment, in a given place, and like vintage years of wine, we have the qualities of the year and of the season in which we are born.”
— C.G. Jung (Collected Works, Vol. 10)
I live in a time in which connection is often replaced by simulation. Where love is mistaken for desire and lust, and truth for opinion. That is precisely why Jung is a guide to me. He brings me back to the field of connection that was never lost — only forgotten.
My philosophy is rooted in the knowing that love is not a goal, but an origin. Not a possession, but a current. Jung reminds me that this love can be found — in dreams, in shadow, in synchronicities, in the other — and that every sign along the way is no coincidence, but a calling:
“Remember who you are. You are love.”
