Fall begins in the Northern Hemisphere when the sun sits directly above earth’s equator, creating the aequus nox, or “equal night.” During this convergence, day and night are approximately 12 hours each. As the sun is poised on this demarcation of opposites, it seems fitting that we reflect on some of the archetypal amplifications of balance and its importance to our psychological wellbeing. 

According to Jungian Psychology, one-sidedness, or the loss of balance, is a precarious state that can lead to illness or even soul loss. In Man and His Symbols (1964), Marie-Louise Von Franz describes the soul as one’s “regulating center” (p. 228), the central fulcrum about which we seek to move into a gentle balance of inner and outer, mystical and rational, inflation and humility.  An oar is an example of a fulcrum in action. The point on which the oar rests on the rowlock is a fulcrum. Without this pivot point the oar lacks the support and stability needed for it to function as a lever and, thereby, create a mechanical advantage for the rower. In a state of balanced forces, the rower’s applied effort is transferred into the work of moving the boat. The balance of the oar on the fulcrum optimizes energy transfer and, without the fulcrum, efficiency and power is lost.

Von Franz has described ways in which we may lose contact with the fulcrum, the center, the soul. In Man and His Symbols, she writes how overpowering instinct or, conversely, an “over-consolidation of ego-consciousness” (p. 228) can tip one off balance. First, she describes, how instinct run amok can carry the individual into a “one-sidedness that makes him lose balance” (1964, p. 258). In the Collected Works, volume 8, Jung described five primary instincts as fundamental to being human. The instincts range from survival needs (hunger, sexuality, physical activity) to complex psychic needs (reflection and creativity). When out of balance the drive for any one of these instincts impedes function and can lead to illness in the body and the psyche. Obsessive thoughts and compulsive drives around food, sex, or exercise are associated with biopsychosocial ailments including addictions. While perhaps most obvious when considering the survival instincts, a poorly positioned or missing fulcrum related to self-reflection or creativity may also lead to dysfunction. When the oar slips too far into the water, one falls into fantasy or daydreaming. In this realm of the deep, one can lose contact with the agency and power needed to row the boat, to move through life. In the worst of scenarios excessive reflection or manic creativity may be a fall into the depths of depression or psychosis. Secondly, Von Franz warns that the opposite constellation, the over-consolidation of ego functioning, leads to a dryness. The oar is figuratively out of the water of the unconscious and, therefore, there is no depth or meaning; life becomes flat and transactional. Metaphorically, there is no need to row when the oars are pulled up; life is simply lived above the unconscious depths and psychospiritual development is halted. 

When the oar slips the lock and falls to the depths, or is pulled up out of the water, a new source of power may be needed to restore the system to balance. At the level of the psyche, these restoring forces can be the anima or animus. At the level of the interpersonal, the analyst can help one to proverbially reset the oar on the fulcrum so that one may, once again, move effectively through life. Reliably, it is our dreams that come nightly to help rebalance the oar on the fulcrum. Jung writes, “The general function of dreams is to try to restore our psychological balance by producing dream material that re-establishes, in a subtle way, the total psychic equilibrium” (1964, p. 33).  The balance of the equinox cannot stay. The balance of light and dark will tip, and we must leverage our resources, instinctive and psychological, to adjust to the decreasing hours of daylight in seas both calm and turbulent. At this autumnal equinox, as we rest for one day in the harmonious balance of dark and light, we might reflect on our agency as captains of our little boats, our individual egos, navigating the liminal space of sea and sky. In this moment of pause, it may be wise to consider the position of one’s oar and the effects of pulling up or dropping in to various degrees as we navigate a new season. 

-Dr. Annemarie Connor, CGJSS Board Member

Works Cited

Jung, C. G. (1964). Man And His Symbols. Anchor Books/Doubleday.

Jung, C. G. (1970). The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche (G. Adler & R. F. C. Hull, Eds. & Trans.). Princeton University Press.