Jung considered the
I Ching
the best expression of the synchronicity principle: “The Chinese mind, as I see it at work in the
I
Ching,
seems to be exclusively preoccupied with the chance aspect of events. What we call coincidence seems to be the chief concern of this peculiar mind, and what we worship as causality passes almost unnoticed. . . . While the Western mind carefully sifts, weighs, selects, classifies, isolates, the Chinese picture of the moment encompasses everything down to the minutest nonsensical detail, because all of the ingredients make up the observed moment.”
The Tarot deck is a pack of seventy-eight cards: a Major Arcana of twenty-two trump cards, including a joker/fool, that is, a trickster, and a Minor Arcana of fifty-six cards in four suits—coins or pentacles, scepters or wands, chalices, and swords.
The cards of the Major Arcana correspond to the letters of the Hebrew alphabet and depict archetypal and alchemical figures, virtues, and metaphors that were originally meant to be contemplated and studied as indicators of wholeness. In the seventeenth century, they became pointers to where human fortunes lie. The figures appear in this order in the deck: magician, archpriestess, empress, emperor, archpriest, lover, chariot, justice, hermit, wheel of fortune, strength, the hanged man, death, temperance, devil, tower struck by lightning, stars, moon, sun, judgment, world, and finally or first, the fool. The cards present an image of the path to destiny through initiation.
The suits of the Minor Arcana also represent archetypal forces. The coin stands for the material forces in the world, the scepter for the power of authority, the chalice for sacrifice, and the sword for the dispensing of justice. In each suit there is a king, queen, knight, and knave (jack), representing the categories of earthly power. Scepters stand for government; the military is represented by swords; the priesthood is indicated by a chalice; and coins are for intellectual and aesthetic pursuits.
Cards zero through eleven of the Major Arcana lead us on the solar way: active, conscious, a masculine style. Cards twelve through twenty-one show the lunar way: passive, unconscious, the feminine mystique. Each image combines the inner and outer world in the context of human experiences. The intention of the deck is to present a full panoply of the archetypal possibilities in every human being and show him/her the next or future turn of the road to the activation of those potentials. The Tarot is thus an album of pictures of us, and each of us is the full deck.
Astrology is another rich source of synchronicity in its study of the direct and meaningful coincidence between the layout of the stars and the blueprint of our lives. In a letter to Freud in 1911, Jung wrote, “I dare say that we shall one day discover in astrology a good deal of knowledge that has been intuitively projected into the heavens.”
World movements and events correlate synchronously with astrological conditions. Planets and constellations mirror and predict world movements like the Renaissance or World Wars. There is also personal synchronicity in astrology since our psyche is mirrored in the night sky of our birth and of our unfolding life. The unconscious indeed contains planets (gods) as archetypes. All the planets together make up the unconscious, which is a pageant of archetypal figures familiar from all the stories we have read and resonated with: Mars is the hero, Jupiter the king, Venus the female anima-soul, Uranus the male animus-spirit, Saturn the father and conservator, Mercury the trickster, Moon the persona, and Sun individuation. Body, heart, and mind correspond to pairings of gods. The body corresponds to a pairing of Mercury and Venus; the emotions correspond to a pairing of Mars and Jupiter; and the mind corresponds to a pairing of Saturn and Uranus. “I find my zenith doth depend upon a most auspicious star, whose influence / If now I count not, but omit, my fortunes will ever after droop,” says Shakespeare in
The Tempest.
In medieval times, Saint Albert the Great, inspired by the Persian mystic Ibn Sina, said that the psyche has the power to alter external matter and things when it is in highly charged emotional states and when a favorable astrological pattern coincides with it. For the year to be complete and nature to work, the interaction of all the signs are necessary. Likewise, humanity requires a population with all the astrological signs for the wholeness of the human community. A jury was originally made up of twelve men, each with a different astrological sign to ensure fairness and complete amplitude in judgment.
The zodiac (“circle of animals”) contains twelve symbols that indicate the terrestrial situation when the sun is in a particular part of the sky. Aries, the ram, indicates spring;Taurus, the bull, the growth of plants and mating of animals; Gemini, the twins, the proliferation of life within an ecological whole. Cancer, the crab, indicates that the sap of life flows copiously; Leo, the sun’s fiery power; Virgo, the harvest and seed for the next year. Libra, the balancing scales, appears at the autumnal equinox, which leads to Scorpio, the sign of death. Sagittarius is the archer of reflection since he looks back as he rides into the winter solstice; Capricorn, with fishtail and goat body, represents a transition from old to new as the sun climbs again; Aquarius, the water-pourer, appears as rains come in winter. Pisces, the fish, indicating living but hidden growth beneath the watered earth, precedes Aries and lilac spring again.
The psyche is indeed like a solar system: instincts, emotions, and thoughts orbit the luminaries of the Self and ego. The sun represents consciousness and moon the unconscious. They are the inner and outer faces of the human psyche. The planets are operational principles of action, heart, and mind. Heaven and earth have definite connections: our blood flow and coagulation correlates with the moon as do the tides. “As above, so below” is the medieval alchemical way of saying this. Uranus represents breaking away from the familiar to embrace the new. It is thus the planet that represents synchronicity. Uranus is the divine intervention that introduces unexpected changes and reversals through unusual people and events that meet us on our path.
Can I meet the unexpected with nothing but space between it and me?
On the opening page of this book we read Shakespeare’s words: “Look how the floor of heaven is thick inlaid with patens of bright gold . . . such harmony is in immortal souls!” The human psyche contains all the stars and planets as metaphors of our full potential. They are not only heavenly bodies but macrocosms of our individual microcosm. We are composed of and highly responsive to their every orbit and vibration. We respond because we are made in their image. The heavens
mirror
us and we are truly children of the stars, terrestrial reflections of celestial constellations. Luke 10:20 states, “Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
The call may have been more like gentle pushings in the stream in which you drifted unknowingly to a particular spot on the bank. Looking back, you sense that fate had a hand in it.
—J
AMES
H
ILLMAN
6
Conditions and Crises
T
HE
G
IVENS OF
H
UMAN
L
IFE
In my book
The Five Things We Cannot Change and the Happiness We Find by Embracing Them
(Shambhala, 2005), I present some givens of life and how to respond to them. In this chapter I look at those and other givens to show how they apply to synchronicity.
The conditions of our human existence can be embraced with acceptance or opposed with rebelliousness. A healthy adult accepts conditions when it is clear that they are irreversible. At the same time, he also may struggle to change a particular condition if it yields to change. Grace provides the wisdom to know the difference. The center column lists the givens of life, the conditions of our human existence. On either side, we see two possible responses.
Adult response | Givens | Childish reaction |
I stay with myself and focus on what is and open myself to support if it comes my way. | I am alone in facing the great life events, including death. I may have support but no rescuer | I fill the aloneness with externals so as not to feel it fully, or I expect a rescuer |
I stay with the normal stages: rise, crest, decline, realign, let go | All is transitory and changing. Nothing satisfies permanently | I fixate: holding on, becoming addicted, clinging, controlling. I keep trying to hold back the hands of time. |
I allow it all to unfold just as it is | Life is unpredictable | I seek safe harbors and certitudes, trying to build dikes or dams |
I accept what cannot be changed; I attend to what can be changed | Suffering is part of life: both physical and emotional life is not always fair | I am entitled to immunity. I am exempt from the law of averages. I deserve special treatment |
I accept that things are not always fair while working for justice | Sometimes we will be faced with more than we can handle | I am comforted by the belief that punishment of evil and reward of good will happen now or later |
I accept that some things are too big for me to handle | I will never have more to face than I can handle |
These are not just the conditions of existing; they are the conditions of evolving. They are the prerequisites for a human life to unfold with character, purpose, and meaning. They make us the fascinating characters we are; they make our human story the intriguing plot that it is. Embracing the following conditions of existence can nurture our evolution.
Only alone do I find my unique path. Only with others do I learn to cooperate, accept and give support, and see the limits of what can be expected from others.
Only in a transitory world do I transcend time for the timeless.
Only in an unpredictable universe do I expend all the effort I can muster.
Only in suffering do I make contact with my inner resources of strength and become compassionate.
Only in a world in which I may be powerless over injustice do I strive for justice in any ways I can achieve it.
Only when I face things too big for my level of strength do I open to grace and thereby stretch my powers.
The givens of life have been variously referred to as “Adam’s curse,” the will of God, or simply the human condition. They are universal in that no one is exempt from them or immune to them, nor can any one of them be repealed. We individuals are not victims of these conditions; they are simply the human reality. To contemplate this fact is to ask oneself, “Am I willing to share the confusion and pain of my fellow human beings? Can I face life, as E. M. Forster writes in
Howard’s End,
“not as a victim or a fanatic but as a seafarer who can greet with an equal eye the deep he is entering and the shore that he must leave”?
In reality, these givens are precisely what it takes for us to be and become who we are. Confounding realities like aloneness, the suffering of the just, the pain required for growth, etc., cease to be questions when our spirituality is founded on a stabilizing trust in the aptness of these conditions for our evolution. Such confidence is the trusty horse on which we ride out the chaotic times in life. The conditions of existence are meant to be like weather conditions. If I live in a house with a sturdy roof, walls, and a foundation, I can let the storms come and I still abide safely. “Though the seas threaten, they are merciful,” writes Shakespeare in
The Tempest.
The conditions of our existence are assisting forces on the path to our destiny. Each is a synchronicity since each is connected to a discovery: without aloneness, I never would have found the vast inner world of wisdom and healing power within me. If what I see and desire were not transitory, I never would have looked beyond or through the persons and things in my life to contact the transcendent. If all were predictable, my eyes would never be opened by surprises, by the unexpected, by serendipity. The element of surprise in synchronicity is the Dionysian spirit, granting us access to a lively energy that transcends the narrow promises of orderly logic. Without suffering, I would never have found my inner resources, never have felt the grief that gives me depth and character, never have opened my heart to compassion. If things were always fair, I would have no motivation to recognize and handle the shadow in myself and others in creative ways. This is how the givens of life can be ingredients of wholeness and gifts of grace.