The Alchemist and Sophia

Jeffrey Raff's Jung and the Alchemical Imagination quotes Paracelsus' “Hermetic Astronomy” in A.E. Waite, ed., The Hermetic and Alchemical Writings of “Paracelsus” the Great, vol. 2 and Michael Maier's Atalanta Fugiens, 1618.

A good active imagination [according to C.G. Jung] leads to the unexpected and creates insight and a fresh perspective (Raff 52). Paracelsus [b.1495], like Boehme [b.1575], whom he influenced, believed in the power of the imagination, but also in the dangers of fantasy:

Moreover, there are physicians without imagination, without faith, who are called phantastics. Phantasy is not imagination, but the frontier of folly. These work for any result, but they do not study in that school which they ought. He who is born in imagination finds out the latent forces of Nature, which the body with its mere phantasy cannot find; for imagination and phantasy differ the one from the other. Imagination exists in the perfect spirit, while phantasy exists in the body without the perfect spirit. He who imagines compels herbs to put forth their hidden nature (Paracelsus 307, qtd. Raff 42)

Fantasy creates illusion and folly, while imagination creates liberation and healing power. The alchemist believed that their work must follow the ways of nature in order to succeed, and they saw in nature a great teacher, but also a repository of latent powers and influences. One great teacher was Sophia, an “ordering principle” that guided and directed the steps of the alchemists. She is a feminine guide, either Nature or Wisdom, showing the way for the alchemist who struggles to follow Her. The alchemist must do its best to follow Nature’s way, or follow the guidance of Wisdom. In either case, it is the imagination that allows the alchemist to discover the hidden path. (Raff 42-44)

Inner wisdom, the imaginative power of the self, leaves behind its footprints, or the symbols that it creates, which the inner alchemist follows on his or her path. Wearing the spectacles of insight, guided by the lamp of consciousness, supported by the staff of inner authority, the alchemist endeavors to follow Sophia’s lead. Notice the plants and fruits symbolizing the endless creativity of Sophia. (Maier, qtd. Raff 46)

Imagination teaches about the nature and needs of the self, of the world, and of the unconscious. In the imaginative experience, the ego encounters “the Other,” and must find its correct position in relation to the Other. Such experiences are often disconcerting to the ego, which likes to think of itself as master of the whole psychic world. The ego finds itself in a position of being only a partner, and not even the managing partner at that. Imagination is a challenge that requires the ego to transcend its previous idea and step into the unknown. Paracelsus saw in nature a mystery containing a hidden world of symbols and signs. The true alchemist must be able to see underneath the surface. In this regard, fantasy involves intellectual thinking, the mind locked into appearances that can never penetrate the hidden meaning behind the surface. Imagination, on the other hand, is the light of nature that reveals all her secrets and allows the physician to determine the correct substance to heal a particular disease. (Raff 47-49)

The Alchemical Rubedo: Revivication

Stanton Marlon's "Inquiry into the Alchemy of Soul-making" from Fire in the Stone: The Alchemy of Desire quotes James Hillman's "Concerning the Stone: Alchemical Images of the Goal" from Sphinx 5.

The relationship with [an] emerging energy and descent to its depths can be seen in an alchemical image, taken from the Rosarium, entitled Reviving [image below]. This descent, which depicts the soul’s return to the material body, is also a vitalization and “revivication.” It is a way of imagining what a soul wants and is a relinking with the body and the world. It is a relinking to the instinctual/archetypal lived body—animal, erotic, and sacred. It is the moment where the soul descends from heaven, “beautiful and glad” (Hillman 1993, 264). The soul yearns to enjoy this world and “has its goal a resurrection in beauty and pleasure” (Hillman, 261). It heralds the alchemical rubedo, the vital reddening of life. (Marlan 30-31)

Alchemical Homeopathy

Edward C. Whitmont's The Alchemy of Healing quotes Carl Kerenyi's Asklepios

According to Carl Kerenyi, the image of the serpent, carrier of potentially deadly poison, has since time immemorial represented also the image of healing [the caduceus-see images below]. “The wounder shall heal,” declared Apollo through the Delphic oracle; hence the healer can also wound:

The Illiad describes Apollo as a bringer of death, yet he is father to Asclepius, the archetypal physician, who in turn is slain by Zeus, presumably for healing too many people. Chiron is a mythological healer carrying a wound that never heals; he chooses death as his vicarious offering to free Prometheus.

Mankind suffers illness; human beings inflict wounds and hurt each other and themselves. We suffer our own inner conflicts and inflict them on one another, and we help heal one another. We also inflict wounds and injuries upon the physical world we live in. As the destruction- and consciousness-carrying “cells” of the earth organism, we wound our earth, we interfere with its vital functioning and, as our consciousness of self and world gradually increases, we also strive to heal these wounds. (191)

This process is symbolized alchemically as the destruction and rebirth of the king (sacrifice of status quo) and the conversion of dross (impasse/illness) to gold (new synthesis/health). (214)

Prometheus and the Great Goddess

Edward C. Whitmont's The Alchemy of Healing: Psyche and Soma

Mythological awareness tells us:
One of the conditions for Prometheus' release from bondage to the rock of materiality was that he reveal to the gods a vital secret upon which the continuity of the world depended, that only he, the representative of mankind, not the gods, knew about. This secret referred to the need for having the Great Goddess joined in marriage to a human mortal, not to another god; the transpersonal must connect with the individuating human consciousness.

For the person, the difficult and often painful, "nearly too difficult" assignment of becoming what one potentially "is" includes alternating phases of illness and healing, of experiencing guilt and redemption, egotism and sacrifice, and thereby integrating one's separatist or destructive drives into the "formal order of the cosmos." (221)