The Golden Ball
Lecture by Howard W. Tyas, Jr.,
to the C. G. Jung Society of the Triangle (Chapel Hill)
on Friday, June 25, 1999
[Throw ball into the audience. See what happens.]
In her book Jung: His Life and Work, A Biographical Memoir, Barbara Hannah describes how Jung
instigated a ball game during the early meetings of the Psychology Club in Zurich, a ball game inspired by
various medieval practices which included playing with a ball during the celebration of the Mass in the Roman
Catholic Church.
This is what she writes:
“Jung, moreover, invented a special game for such occasions, called the Alleluia game. In it, all the
members sat around the room with one member in the center. A knotted cloth (usually a napkin) was thrown
from one to the other. It was de rigueur [the custom] to throw it as far across the space in the middle as
possible, not just to pass it to your nearest neighbor. The member in the center had to catch it on its way; when
he succeeded in doing so, he might sit down, and his place was taken by the member who had thrown the cloth.
The game waxed fast and furious and always efficiently banished stiffness and formality. It had an amazingly
relating effect bringing the group together in an almost magical way.”1
It was Barbara Hannah’s interpretation that Jung’s use of the knotted napkin was the equivalent of the
medieval ball used during the Mass and, psychologically, symbolized the Self. She felt Jung intentionally used
this “ball” to unite the Psychology Club members “in the Self” or in their No. 2 personalities, so as to prevent
their fellowship from disintegrating into something trivial and solipsistic. Throughout his book Psychology and
Alchemy, Jung decries the death of those medieval Dionysian games and festivals observed by the church which
honored the instinctual and playful side of humanity. Those games and festivals functioned quite well to strike
a balance between what was too often split: mind and body, spirit and instinct.
Now I could say that a ball is a symbol of the Self - that self-regulating center of the psyche and
personality - and we could call it a night. No more need be said. But a ball, as a symbol, is as multi-faceted and
complex as the Self. How strange that we can call something so rounded and simple, multi-faceted and
complex. And yet it is. Can you remember your first experience with a ball? Or your most numinous, striking,
or perplexing encounter with a ball? [The milk commercial which captures in slow motion a drop of milk being
dropped into a larger glass of milk, and the perfect ball of milk that arises on the rebound. Or ask people to
show and share a little bit about the balls they brought.]
1
Barbara Hannah, Jung: His Life and Work, A Biographical Memoir, New York: Putnam, 1976,
pp. 194-95.
2
[Michael Fordham, a Jungian analyst in the London school, used to give examples of how children
would produce mandala images, magical protective circles, at times when the ego is threatened by disruptive
forces. He also cited several occasions with children when the drawing of a circle was associated with the word
“I” and which subsequently led to some effective action the child had previously been unable to take.]
This evening we are going to examine the symbol of the ball in fairy tale, myth, and dream, as well as, in
games and rituals. Our examination will not be entirely psychological or clinical or theoretical. It will also take
seriously the manifestation of the ball in outer life and the effect it has there, primarily in the games we play and
observe. We will use the insights of ethnology and archeology, the imagery of literature, and the reflections of
those whose lives involve interacting with a ball firsthand.
But since the title of this lecture is “The Golden Ball,” we’ll start there first. There are at least two
Grimms fairy tales which speak of a Golden Ball. One is found in #104, Iron John and another in the first fairy
tale in that collection, The Frog Prince. In Iron John it is a young boy who is playing with a golden ball,
“The king had a son of eight years, who was once playing in the court-yard, and while he was playing, his
golden ball fell into the cage [where the wild man was]. The boy ran thither and said, give me my ball out. Not till
you have opened the door for me, answered the man. No, said the boy, I will not do that, the king has forbidden it,
and ran away. The next day he again went and asked for his ball. The wild man said, open my door, but the boy
would not. On the third day the king had ridden out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, I cannot open the
door even if I wished, for I have not the key. Then the wild man said, it lies under your mother's pillow, you can get it
there. The boy, who wanted to have his ball back, cast all thought to the winds, and brought the key.”
In The Frog Prince it is a young girl:
“In olden times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the
youngest was so beautiful that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it shone in her face.
Close by the king’s castle lay a great dark forest, and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when the day
was very warm, the king’s child went out into the forest and sat down by the side of the cool fountain, and when she
was bored she took a golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this ball was her favorite plaything. Now
it so happened that on one occasion the princess’s golden ball did not fall into the little hand which she was holding
up for it, but on to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water.”
Robert Bly tells us that “the golden ball represents that unity of personality we had as children - a kind of
radiance, or wholeness, before we split into male and female, rich and poor, bad and good.” It is like living in
paradise, before life suddenly expels us and we find ourselves confronted with the harsh realities of the world.
It’s like riding and sleeping in the back seat of the car, before suddenly finding ourselves behind the wheel and
assuming responsibility for determining speed and direction. It’s like living in a fairy tale, before the psyche
suddenly awakens and we realize that the world is more vast, wonderful and frightening than we ever imagined.
The golden ball represents that undifferentiated wholeness that children possess before they lose their
innocence.
3
From the viewpoint of analytical psychology, at birth the human psyche is contained in the Self. That’s
all there is. At some point, out of the Self and guided by the Self, the ego begins to emerge, like a tiny island in
a vast ocean. It grows, it develops, it strengthens. It makes and finds its own unique way in the world. And
then at some point, usually in midlife, the Self reappears and seeks to establish a dialectic relationship with the
ego. This is what Jung called the individuation process. The Self is present throughout the whole process, but
to different degrees and in various ways.
When we read fairy tales which tell the story of initially playing with a golden ball, then losing that
golden ball, and ultimately recovering that golden ball, we are being told the story of the individuation process.
Early in life we are, unconsciously, one with the Self, and life is golden. We lose that sense of wholeness as the
Self recedes and the ego begins to realize itself - its limitations, its vulnerability, its smallness, its otherness.
And then, usually at the Self’s instigation, the ego attempts, often through pain and defeat and suffering, to
recover that initial relationship with the Self - the golden ball, if you will - although in a new and more
conscious way. Each one of us had a golden ball when we were young, which was suddenly taken from us by
fate or design, and here we are, at some stage in the process, whether we are in analysis or not, of trying to get it
back. And it is possible. Fairy tales don’t lie. (Yes, it’s possible; but who’s willing to pay the price?)
Balls or spheres are also found in fairy tales representing another quality or function of the Self. The
Grimms’ fairy tale The Three Feathers, #49, begins this way:
There was once a king who had three sons. Two were intelligent, but the third did not talk much and was
stupid and was called Dummling. The king was old and weak and thought about his death and did not know which of
his sons should inherit the kingdom. So he told them to go out into the world and the one who brought him the most
beautiful carpet would be king when he died. To prevent quarreling, he went outside the castle, blew three feathers
into the air and said: “As they fly, so you must go.” One feather went towards the east, the other to the west, and the
third just a little way straight ahead, where it fell to the ground. So one brother went to the right, the other to the left,
and they laughed at Dummling who had to stay where the third feather had fallen.
Marie Louise Von Franz tells us that the motif of blowing a feather to indicate the direction the sons
should take was a well-known medieval custom in many countries. If someone did not know where to go, if
they were lost at a crossroads or had no special plan, a person would take a feather, blow it and walk in
whichever direction the wind took it. It was a very common kind of oracle by which you could be guided. But
in northern countries and in certain Russian and Italian versions of this fairy tale, instead of feathers and arrows,
or rolling apples, there were spheres and balls.
4
We mentioned that the Self, being the central regulating factor of the unconscious psyche, has an
enormous number of different functional aspects. It sets the ego on its unique life path, it preserves the balance
within the ego itself, as well as builds an ego-attitude in adulthood that enables the ego to relate to the Self
without being overwhelmed by it.
Von Franz writes, “The symbol of the ball would represent more the capacity of the Self to effect
movement out of itself. For the primitive mind the ball was obviously that object with an amazing propensity
for moving along on its own volition. So the primitive might suppress that little factor that an initial push was
needed, since for him the ball becomes that thing which can move without outside impetus, of its own accord;
by its own inner life-impulse it moves and keeps moving through all the vicissitudes and frictions and
difficulties of the material world.”
The ball stands for this very quality of the unconscious psyche; that being, the capacity for creating
movement born out of itself. It is not a quality that simply reacts to already existing factors outside itself, but
rather a quality that has the capacity to produce something new, and without a traceable causal impetus.
Von Franz observes, “We can analyze someone for a long time and the dreams seem to discuss certain
obvious problems and the person feels all right, but suddenly he will have a dream out of the blue which starts
something completely new. A new creative idea which one could not expect or explain causally, has arisen as if
the psyche had decided to bring up something new, and these are the great and meaningful healing
psychological events. The symbol of the sphere or the ball primarily means this. That is why so often in fairy
tales the hero follows a rolling apple or a rolling sphere to some mysterious goal. He just follows this
spontaneous self-impulsiveness of his own psyche to the secret goal.”
You will also notice that balls, when they roll, will often take the most direct route to reach its
destination, will yieldingly follow the natural gradient of the landscape, the path of least resistance, and because
of its perfectly round shape, will roll as true as true can be. These are additional characteristics of the Self at
work in the psyche. Jung stated that the Self, the unconscious, does not deceive us. It may use language that is
cryptic and symbolic, but its intent is not to disguise its message. It communicates as truthfully as it can using
the language and methods it possesses. Its roll is direct and true.
I’m going to leave fairy tales now, with their symbolism of the ball itself and turn to an ancient Mayan
myth found in the Popol Vuh which describes a ball game. The Popol Vuh, regarded as being the Mayan
5
Bible, contains many stories - some about the creation of the world, others about the adventures and
relationships between the gods and humans. One of the stories is about two twin heroes, Hunahpu and
iXbalanque, whose fathers were ball players, seduced by the gods to play a ball game with them in the
underworld, and with tragic results. Part of the story goes like this:
“In their net they caught the rat. And they grabbed him and tried to choke him.
‘I will not die by your hand! Gardening is not your job, but there is something that is,’ said the rat.
‘Where is what is ours? Go ahead and name it,’ the boys Hunahpu and iXbalanque told the rat.
‘Very well. It’s something that belonged to your fathers, named One Hunahpu and Seven Hunahpu, who
died in iXibalba. What remains is their gaming equipment. They left it up under the roof of the house: their
kilts, their arm guards, their rubber ball. But your grandmother doesn’t take these down in front of you,
because this is how your fathers died.’
‘You know the truth, don’t you!’ the boys told the rat.
There was great joy in their hearts when they got word of the rubber ball.”
Popol Vuh, Part Three2
[We’ll come back to Hunahpu and iXbalanque in a minute. But first, I want to talk about ball games in
general and about the particular ball game that Hunahpu and iXbalanque played.]
Humans beings have been playing ball games before and since the beginning of recorded history and in
every corner of the world. Even today, nations, cities and individuals find themselves engaged in playing or
watching ball games with a seriousness and enthusiasm bordering on religious possession. What in the human
psyche precipitates and sustains this pervasive attraction to ball games? Why do the games themselves as well
as the atmosphere that surrounds them so often exhibit a religious quality? In what ways do these ball games
contribute to or detract from psychological development and individuation? How is one to understand the
appearance of balls or ball games in dreams? And in what way does the objective psyche, the Self, use the
images associated with ball games to communicate something meaningful to us?
There is a collective aspect to this process as well, and our attempts to heal our own splits can also
impact a society or group which suffers the same. There is a very real religious facet present in ball games
which leads me to seriously consider the assertion of these ancient myths and legends that the gods do in fact
play ball.
The year is 1000 B.C.E. In the middle of a pristine Central American jungle a group of men, women and
children are gathered around a large sunken court excavated in the shape of an elongated “I,” 492 feet long. The
walls of the court are slightly slanted and composed of cut stone and mortar with plastered walls and floor. At
2
Popol Vuh, translated by Dennis Tedlock, New York: Simon and Schuster, 1985, pp. 128-29.
6
the center point of the court on both sides, decorated rings of stone are perpendicularly embedded in the wall
about eight feet from the ground. In addition, three stone floor markers can be seen, each bearing its own
curious markings. Eighteen men, perhaps today composed of captives, nobility, professional players or even
priest-kings, descend the stone steps to take their places on the court, 9 on each team. They are curiously
dressed with heavy leather belts or (yokes) around their waist, stomach protectors marked by a phallic
protrusion at the base, helmet-like headgear, and, either hanging on their belts or held in their hands, thin, flat,
hatchet-shaped stones, engraved with very unusual scenes. Some of the carvings on these stones portray a head
with footprints on both sides, or a bird pecking at a human skull, or heads wearing jaguar, snake, fish or bird
helmets or some other strange anthropomorphic being.
A feeling of excitement and anticipation moves through the crowd comprised of both dignitaries and
common people. A priest appears to ritually bless the 12 inch, 8 pound solid rubber ball. Then the game and
the shouts of the crowd begin. The ball is knocked to and fro at a constant and sometimes frantic pace by the 18
men, who use only their torsos, hips, elbows and knees. The first point is scored as an opponent fails to keep
the ball from hitting the ground. The players are fresh, so the movement of the heavy ball is quick and its
impact brutal. Some are already showing signs of injury caused by the ball’s high velocity and their own
entranced determination to strike the ball as hard as possible. Another point is awarded as the ball enters an
opponents’ end-zone. The crowd cheers its side’s good fortune, but is soon quieted as the ball claims one of
their players as its first fatality. A player is struck in the head by the ball and collapses immediately. He is
removed and the game continues. Another point is scored as the ball touches one of the three engraved floor
markers, another lost as a player inadvertently touches the ball with his hand. Or was it his foot? Everyone
wonders whether today will be the day they will have the opportunity to witness the rarest of occurrences - the
passing of the ball through one of the two small rings in the wall. It is said that if a player can accomplish this
feat, his reward is all the clothes and jewelry the spectators are wearing. The game goes on and on amid the
shouting, cries and betting taking place in the crowd above. Even the best conditioned of players begin to feel
their bodies grow tired, their breath coming in gasps, their stamina all but depleted. Finally, the game ends.
Bets are paid off as a closing ceremony is prepared by the priests. The people now gather to witness the solemn
sacrifice of the vanquished. The victims are tied up in the form of a ball and rolled down the stairs of the court.
The crowd then gathers to witness their beheading. Their severed heads will then be added to the cache of
skulls near the court, already whitened by the sun. Afterwards, each returns to his home, perhaps richer or
poorer than when he arrived.
7
This brief re-creation of the ancient Mesoamerican ceremonial ball game known to the Mayans as pokta-pok is based on hieroglyphs and engraved stones found at the archeological sites of numerous ball courts,
accounts of the ball game portrayed in the Popol Vuh, and first-hand descriptions detailed by early European
writers and explorers. It seems evident that the game performed different functions for those who played,
watched or sanctified it. To children it may have been no more than a game, though a violent and bloody one;
to the casual spectator it was a day to be vicariously caught up in the excitement and efforts of the players; to the
gambler it was a way to possibly increase his fortune; to the priests it was a religious ceremony marked by its
own symbolism, whether understood or veiled in mystery; to the players it was an opportunity to acquire fame
and fortune, although there are suggestions that it was the victors who were sacrificed, rather than the losers.
But what was the meaning behind this game? What is so captivating about this ball game that it would
continue to be played in some form throughout that region, even to the present day? It must speak to or express
some desire or need deeply rooted within the human psyche. What might this desire or need be? And is it
possible that there was some central archetypal field that colored and flavored all the functions and meanings
surrounding the game? Some clues might be found from the several engraved stones depicting the game and its
equipment, or in the very structure of the game itself.
Some of the early accounts reveal how important the gambling was that took place in conjunction with
the game. Among the aristocracy, bets for gold, jade, emeralds, women, children, fields of maize, captives for
sacrifice, land and even entire kingdoms were not uncommon. Even the peasants engaged in wagering for high
stakes which included agricultural products, wives, children and even their own freedom. Heavy betting seemed
to be an almost universal feature of the game. But even more precious than the objects wagered were the
subjective stakes of honor, esteem and status associated with the wagering itself.
This emphasis on wagering is reminiscent of what Clifford Geertz calls “deep play.” Geertz describes
deep play as “play in which the stakes are so high that it is irrational for the players to engage in it at all.” 3 This
can be seen in the Mesoamerican practice of wagering entire kingdoms, one’s freedom or even one’s life on the
outcome of a single bet. Inherent in betting is the presence of chance. That which lies beyond one’s individual
control, lies in the hands of the gods. When one makes a wager, especially at such high stakes, one invites the
gods to sit in one’s presence, to participate in determining your future and well-being. Naturally, a sense of
excitement and intoxication, as well as fear and trembling, arises when the gods appear.
3
Clifford Geertz, “Deep Play: Notes on the Balinese Cockfight,” Daedalus: Myth, Symbol and
Culture, Winter 1-37, 1972.
It is a numinous
8
experience, a mixed experience that is pleasantly unsettling, addictive, because one never knows what will
happen when the gods or the archetypal patterns we all carry are called forth.
Another function of the game has a more social aspect. The concepts of liminality, communitas and
rites of passage, as put forth by Victor Turner and Arnold van Gennep, are all useful in understanding the ball
game as a social ritual. Rites of passage are equated with those rituals or ceremonies in life which mark the
passing of a person or group from one stage of life to the next. Birth, puberty, marriage, mid-life, divorce,
retirement, and death are universally seen as life crises. In the Mesoamerican ball game there is a hint that a rite
of passage is present for the young players who are seeking an initiation into manhood either through mastering
and surviving the game for its own sake or as a test and preparation for becoming a warrior in the community. It
has also been suggested that the game was treated as one of the ordeals visitors had to undergo in order to prove
their worthiness in the eyes of their host. Furthermore, according to the mythology and early accounts, the game
was also played by young, unmarried men of nobility, perhaps as a way to prove their ability to take their place
among the ruling elite or to win a bride. For the spectators, especially the old among them, the game could have
been a reminder or preparation for death.
Communitas, as defined by Victor Turner, describes the power of an event to bring together different,
and perhaps antagonistic, elements of a community. The event is able to transport people out of the divisiveness
of their ordinary life and to bond them together in a realm that transcends their differences. This can be seen in
the Mesoamerican ball game itself, which was usually comprised of players from different levels of society, and
in the crowd watching the contest, likewise comprised of both nobility and peasants. It was the transcendent
state provoked by the game which allowed this coniunctio to take place. [Bar scene at the end of the movie
Major League.]
Closely related to both rites of passage and communitas is the concept of liminality. This process, capable of
being experienced by either an individual or group, begins when one leaves or is separated from the experience
of ordinary life and passes over into a state where one is “betwixt and between”. The connection to the previous
way of life has disappeared and the coming of a new way of life is not yet begun. One has entered a state of
being suspended between the past and the future. Van Gennep describes this state as “marginal,” Turner as
“liminal,” and Eliade as “sacred.” It is the world of the gods where orientation to time and place are lost or at
least substantially blurred. Strange, otherworldly things can happen and no one leaves unaffected.
9
The Mesoamerican ball game was played and witnessed in a state of liminality. The very structure of the
court itself and its placement between the central pyramids of the city invited the players and spectators to enter
this sacred space. The fact that the game was played at specific and special times of the year added to the effect.
The symbolically engraved equipment worn by the players, the rubber ball as the center of the fierce action, the
brutal contest between the two teams, and the high-stakes gambling among the crowd, all served to separate one
from ordinary life and to draw one into another time and place. And finally, the ritual beheading or sometimes
the removal of the victim’s still beating heart by the religious representatives would remind all present that this
experience was not of this world. How could anyone return to their “ordinary” life unaffected?
Another possible connection to this process of liminality might lie in the ornamental carvings found on
stone representations of the yokes worn during the contests. These yokes are portrayed with drawings of the
Marine Toad (Bufo Marinus). Although this species of toad is inedible, its does secrete a fluid through its skin
which is hallucinogenic and was probably used in religious rituals which sought to produce an altered state of
consciousness. It is therefore thought that perhaps the appearance of this toad on the equipment of the ball
players connected the game to the religious system which sought a momentary descent into the Other World.
This connection might lie in the other-worldly, trance-like state the ball players would assume while playing,
which separated them from ordinary time and thrust them into sacred time.
It should be obvious that these ball games were more than recreational or ritual diversions. An event
which evoked such a life and death struggle among its players and actually ended with a human sacrifice, must
have carried great religious significance. The playing field itself was seen to represent a sacred precinct, a kind
of temple. All the courts were consecrated to one of the Mesoamerican gods associated with that particular area.
The architecture of the court mirrored the inherent duality seen in so much of the Mesoamerican religious
thought and practices.
As mentioned earlier, the game was associated with various gods. Each court might have an image of
the god of the game, a god of the ball (which was always blessed by a priest before the game), as well as the god
of the court itself. Some of the gods represented at different ball courts were the god of dancing, gambling and
sport, or the god of fire, or the god of plants, or the various gods of copulation and fertility. If these different
gods of the ball game are seen as representations of various archetypal patterns from the collective strata of the
unconscious, then we can better understand their numinous and dualistic nature, as well as the serious religious
attention they commanded. And at the center of them all would be the sacred ball itself, as a symbol of the
central archetype, the Self.
10
As would be expected, the Mesoamerican mythology continues the religious theme of the ball game.
The Popol Vuh, the holy scripture of the Quiche Mayans written about 550 C.E., gives several accounts of ball
games played between the gods themselves and between the gods and humans, with varying success. The third
book of the Popol Vuh tells what we might term a story of individuation involving twin heroes who discover
their true calling as ball players and then descend into the underworld to play the gods of death and disease to
redeem their fathers, who were themselves ball players seduced by the gods. Through trickery, the twin heroes
are at first able to keep the gods of death at bay. But eventually, realizing death’s inevitability, the twins
willingly sacrifice themselves in order to attain, again through trickery, an even greater reward, to become the
Sun and the Moon.
The Popol Vuh conveys in words and images what the game conveys in sight and action - a central
theme which permeates the entire phenomenon. That theme is the human confrontation with the Unknown,
whether it takes the form of courting chance and fate, the loss of life or property, a sacrifice to the gods of the
underworld, or the experience of death itself. This is why the game possesses such a religious and numinous
quality. The situation of the ball courts between the religious temples of the Sun and Moon sets the tone. The
court itself with its slanted walls suggests the underworld opening its maws to devour anyone who would dare
to play the game. This suggestion is echoed by the Popol Vuh which states that the ball game was played so
close to the dwelling place of the gods of death that they could hear the ball game being played above.
The incessant betting taking place among the spectators and at such incredibly high stakes as loss of
one’s property, family or freedom is not just an invoking of the gods of Fate, but a tempting of them as well.
There is a numinous quality, a feeling of holy terror that accompanies surrendering oneself to the Unknown,
opening up oneself to the gods of Fate, putting oneself into their power.
But what higher stakes were being played for on the court itself? There, the players literally risked life
and limb. The fact that men voluntarily threw themselves with abandon into the path of a twelve inch, eight
pound ball of solid rubber in an attempt to keep it airborne and moving toward some goal bespeaks the
seriousness of the game. The players risked exhaustion, permanent disability, loss of esteem and death to play
this ball game. Perhaps it was the liminality of the game itself that allowed them to do so, so caught up were
they in the game’s intoxicating effect. Whatever the case, they played the game in such a state of possession
that it may not have been difficult for the spectators to feel the presence of the gods themselves on the court
below. The court itself already gave the appearance of being halfway between the everyday world and the
11
underworld. Given the possessed state of the crowd, it could very well have seemed as though the gods of death
had come up from their domain to join the players in the game.
And at the conclusion of the game, the ritual of beheading would have certainly impressed upon all
involved that there are serious ramifications to playing with the gods. If those beheaded were the losers, then
there were consequences and penalties. If those beheaded were the victors, then there were responsibilities and
sacrifices. On some of the carved stones depicting the ritual of beheading there appear plumes of snakes issuing
forth from the decapitated body. Perhaps this is suggesting the belief that even in death there are regenerative
aspects, aspects long associated with the serpent. A sacrifice by the few can bring life to the many. The gods
demand their due. But regardless of who was sacrificed, it remains that those who play the game with the gods
of the underworld cannot escape unaffected.
Everything about the Mesoamerican ball game points to an encounter with the unknown and mysterious
forces of the universe, especially the basic forces of life and death. For the Mesoamericans, the ball game was
an attempt to play with or against these mysterious forces of the universe (or the psyche), these gods of life and
death, and hopefully to learn or to win something from them in the end. Looking back, we might conclude that
this was simply a brutal, and sometimes deadly, game. But to both the players and the spectators it was more
than a game. They were calling forth and engaging the archetypes, in perhaps their most pristine forms. They
were summoning, entertaining, and playing the gods. And at the very center of the game was the rubber ball,
that symbol of the Self, which holds everything together and around which everything revolves.
Now, let’s look at some dreams. The first one comes from Bernard Malamud’s novel The Natural,
which was later made into a movie starring Robert Redford. And by the way, the novel is much darker than the
movie. It doesn’t have a Hollywood ending. The novel itself is a story of individuation. A young ball player
makes the big leagues, and then, as a result of both innocence and inflation, is shot by a femme fatale, and only
in midlife does he return to the game of baseball to recover what he lost. Does the tale sound familiar? As an
older Roy Hobbs is riding the train to begin playing ball again, he has this dream.
“Roy shut his eyes to the sight because if it wasn’t real it was a way he sometimes had of observing himself, just
as in this dream he could never shake off - that had hours ago waked him out of a sound sleep - of him standing at night
in a strange field with a golden baseball in his palm that all the time grew heavier as he sweated to settle whether to hold
on or fling it away. But when he had made his decision it was too heavy to lift or let fall (who wanted a hole that deep?)
so he changed his mind to keep it and the thing grew fluffy light, a white rose breaking out of its hide, and all but soared
off by itself, but he had already sworn to hold on forever.”
12
There is no attempt to interpret this dream in the novel. We are left with our own associations. What
strikes you about the dream? What do you make of it?
Takes place at night. On a strange field. Golden baseball in his palm. Faced with a decision. He makes a
decision to let go, but it’s too late. The ball becomes too heavy. When he decides to accept its heaviness, it
becomes light. A white rose breaks out of its cover and it attempts to fly away. It cannot. Because he
refuses to let go of it.
We’re going to look at a few dreams of a middle-aged man, or as many as time allows. And they are
dreams in which the unconscious, the Self uses the image of baseball to communicate its message. But before
we get to these dreams, I’d like to say a few words about how Jung understood the meaning and function of
dreams.
The unconscious is amazing in its unlimited resourcefulness. It can use any person, object, place or
activity to communicate its message to the ego. The unconscious often makes its appearance when there is an
abaissement du niveau mental, although sometimes it will forcefully break through in spite of consciousness. It
usually speaks to us, however, when we are asleep in the spontaneous, independent and often cryptic imagery
we call dreams. As Jung explains, “Dreams are neither deliberate nor arbitrary fabrications; they are natural
phenomena which are nothing other than what they pretend to be. They do not deceive, they do not lie, they do
not distort or disguise. ... They are invariably seeking to express something that the ego does not know and does
not understand.”4
As for the purpose of dreams, Jung suggested three possibilities. “If the conscious attitude to the life
situation is in large degree one-sided, then the dream takes the opposite side. If the conscious attitude has a
position fairly near the ‘middle’, the dream is satisfied with variations. If the conscious attitude is ‘correct’
(adequate), then the dream coincides with and emphasizes this tendency, though without forfeiting its peculiar
autonomy.”5 The more immediate purpose of dreams, therefore, is to help in the natural, self-regulating process
of the human psyche in order to maintain a certain degree of homeostasis or mental health. In addition to this
self-regulation, dreams also assist in the process of individuation, where a person endeavors to become his
unique self. It involves establishing a relationship with the unconscious, with the Self without surrendering to it
4
5
C. G. Jung, “Analytical Psychology and Education,” Collected Works: The Development of
Personality, Vol. 17, Princeton: Bollingen Press, 1981, par. 189.
C. G. Jung, “On the Nature of Dreams,” Collected Works: The Structure and Dynamics of the
Psyche, Vol. 8, Princeton: Bollingen Press, 1981, par. 546.
13
completely. It involves relating to the collective, but not identifying with it. It involves trying to live one’s life
with personal integrity and meaning, rather than as a caricature of cultural expectations.
One last view of Jung on the nature of dreams will be quite helpful here. This is Jung’s understanding of
how dreams present an inner drama. “The whole dream-work is essentially subjective, and a dream is a theatre
in which the dreamer is himself the scene, the player, the prompter, the producer, the author, the public and the
critic.”6
The unconscious’ unlimited resourcefulness allows it to use any person, object, place or activity to
communicate its message and to assist the process of individuation. And this includes the various games of
playing ball. Following Jung’s idea of the dream as an inner drama, it should be possible to substitute for the
image of the theatre that of the game of baseball. One could therefore say that the dream is a game, where the
dreamer is the baseball, the bat, the glove, the field, the players, the umpires, the spectators and the very nature
of the game itself.
Ray is a 40 year old man.
He was a Catholic priest, who then began studying to become a
psychotherapist. It was during this time that he also began a Jungian analysis and left the priesthood to marry.
Ray was quite familiar with baseball, having played it since childhood, but he had not actually played the game
during the last twelve years.
Ray had had a few seemingly insignificant dreams about baseball four years ago, the last one ending on
October of that year. They were noted, but not given much attention. Then almost exactly a year later, again in
October, Ray began having dreams about baseball that appeared at monthly intervals through January of the
following year. The dreams tapered off until late September/early October of that year, when they suddenly
reappeared again at weekly intervals. At the same time, Ray began to experience a very strong desire to begin
playing the game once more, despite his age. Something was happening in Ray’s psyche that was being
manifested on both a subjective and an objective level. Ray did in fact begin playing baseball again, even
though he was the oldest player on the team. We might call this the “Roy Hobbs syndrome.”
What might have been the purpose or the effect of playing baseball again? One way to see this is as a
reenactment technique of the symbolic dream imagery. Edward Whitmont speaks of this in his book The
Symbolic Quest. “Awareness of the projections and symbolic meanings involved enables us to enact rather than
blindly act out, that is, to give conscious expression to compelling urges within the scope of the possible, the
6
C. G. Jung, “General Aspects of Dream Psychology,” Collected Works: The Structure and Dynamics
of the Psyche, Vol. 8, Princeton: Bollingen Press, 1981, par. 509.
14
constructive or at least the mutually acceptable.” James Hall echoes the sentiment when he speaks of enacting
7
the unconscious material, even in physical forms.
“Fantasy is play,” he writes. “but it can also be harnessed to carry the contents of the mind and allow
them to develop symbolically, to seek their existence in the outer world as symbols rather than as compulsions,
neuroses, fears and fearful forms. ... The particular medium in which the symbol is embodied is not crucial.
What does matter is that the dreamer puts something of himself into the creation or selection of the form, just as
Jung made model canals in the mud on the lake shore. The largest resistance that must be overcome is the fear
of thinking oneself foolish or being seen as silly, a persona anxiety.”8
In a sense, Ray chose to enact the dream imagery. He said he had thought the dreams would subside as
a result of playing, as sometimes happens, but just the opposite occurred. The objective psyche continued to use
the varied imagery of baseball to communicate and comment on Ray’s life situations.
I want to share with you a couple of Ray’s dreams. He brought in a total of 81, but I will concentrate
specifically on those which were particularly meaningful to him: those which addressed his struggle with his
own masculine development, his relationship to the church and his work as a psychotherapist.
1.
“A fight has broken out and a white man (hick) is beating up a black man on a baseball diamond, both
men being players. The fight is broken up and I am able to see a replay of how the fight started. The white team
is in the field, the black team batting. A ball is hit down the foul line and bounces once in foul territory before a
black player standing nearby touches it. The white player thought the black man touched it first in fair territory
before the white man had a chance to catch it. I see the black man was not at fault, the white man’s prejudice is
obvious, and I join in the fight which has spread over the entire field. I am fighting for the black team.”
Ray understood the black man to be a shadow figure and the white man or hick to be representative of
collective standards. It was obvious that there is conflict going on between the two sides. Once the conflict
momentarily abates, the dream ego is given the opportunity to see how the fight started. According to the rules
of baseball, if a ball touches by a batter after the ball has landed in foul territory, he is not penalized. Ray saw
the white man’s response as an example of prejudice. There is a split here between the positive and negative
aspects of the masculine. The masculine shadow is having difficulty being integrated or valued. It is not being
given an opportunity to play or to score. The fact that the black man is batting suggests that he represents the
offensive, aggressive aspect of the masculine, the one who hits the ball, runs the bases and attempts to complete
the journey back to home plate. The conflict, which soon spreads over the entire field, indicates that this
problem within the masculine is affecting the total personality and more than likely all aspects of Ray’s life.
There is also the possibility that “the entire field” could represent a collective attitude or problem. It is fitting
that the ball hit by the shadow figure lands in foul territory, because that is the shadow land. It is also
7
8
Edward C. Whitmont, The Symbolic Quest, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1969, p. 132.
James A. Hall, Patterns of Dreaming, Boston: Shambala, 1991, p. 331-32.
15
understandable that the white player could not see where the ball landed, since collective viewpoints tend to
disregard anything that falls on the wrong (foul) side of what they consider acceptable (fair). There is, however,
a positive development at the end of the dream. Before, Ray was only a spectator. Now he has made a decision
to actively fight for the black team; that is, to fight for the shadow’s right to exist and to play the game, to make
contact with the ball, with wholeness.
2.
“I am playing baseball. I am up to bat and hit the ball to left center field, and am able to run to second
base. The next batter bunts to the left side of the infield, and since no one appears to be covering third base, I take
it, sliding in. An opposing player or two come over to third base thinking they may be able to catch me off base,
but I’m too smart for that. I know this game. I stay close to the bag, putting my foot on it before standing. The
next batter also gets on, so now the bases are loaded. The count on the batter is three balls, one strike. I am ready
and waiting, when suddenly the umpire says the batter is out and the inning is over. I can’t believe it. I ask the
umpire what’s going on. He says nothing, only smiles. Not getting an answer from him, I go to our coach for an
explanation. He says, “That’s just the way it is,” and will not stick up for the team. I am livid. He says just go
ahead and accept it and take the field. I tell him, “No, I’m not playing like this.” I make my way out to left field
to get my things. I pass some of the opposing players in their green jerseys, all the time saying out loud, “Sons of
bitches! Sons of bitches!” I go out to a chair by the left field foul line. I pick up a book there and walk back, still
cursing. I don’t care who knows I’m a priest, this is outrageous. When I get back to the infield, I decide I’m
going to talk to the umpire, tell him what I think, and also my intention to write a letter and report him. I keep
looking for him but can’t find him.”
Ray immediately recognized that in this dream he is no longer a spectator, but is actually playing. He
has now taken the black man’s place as the batter, aggressively standing at home plate attempting to hit the ball.
Three months had passed since the previous dream. The dark, chthonic masculine is developing within him.
In the dream, Ray hits the ball well and is able to safely run to second base - he is now half way home.
When the next batter, his teammate, bunts safely, Ray is able to reach third base and is almost home. He would
be said to be playing very aggressively, but not just aggressively. He is also playing intelligently, for when the
opponents come over to try tagging him out with the ball, Ray keeps his foot on the base while standing. He is
pleased with his slyness. This scene reflects a balance between physical aggressiveness and mental intelligence.
Ray is learning to hold and to use the two together. He agreed that this reflected the way he felt at the time. He
was becoming more assertive in his life, but consciously so. He did not feel out of control, but was able to ask
for what he wanted and to care less about not meeting other people’s expectations.
When the next batter also reaches first base safely, there is now a man occupying all three bases. One
says, “the bases are loaded.” This is a pregnant situation. The probability of Ray being able to reach home plate
is high. The count on the batter now at home plate is three balls and one strike. This is a favorable situation and
the probability of Ray’s successfully reaching home is increased. Ray is on the verge of achieving something
important. He is almost home. I think this must have reflected a hope Ray held for himself. He has been trying
very hard and he is anticipating success, completion. But it is just at this moment that the unexpected happens.
16
The umpire, the neutral judge whose decisions are final, suddenly, inexplicably and, according to the
rules, prematurely declares that the inning is over. Ray can’t believe it. He questions the umpire and receives
only a smile, no explanation. Ray approaches the coach, the team’s advocate, but he meekly advises Ray to
accept it. But Ray is intensely angry and decides he will not play under these conditions. He is cursing as he
exits the field and makes the comment that he doesn’t care who knows he’s a Catholic priest. The situation is
outrageous and he is angry. Once again he tries to find the umpire to argue the case, but is unsuccessful.
Ray has tried so hard and is so close to success, but he is stopped by the arbitrary decision of the umpire.
What might the umpire represent here? I think he represents fate, that ultimate authority which no one can
question and whose decisions are final. No matter how hard Ray tries, in the end, fate is stronger than conscious
effort and skill. Not even the coach, the surrogate father figure of every team, is mighty enough to change the
hand of fate when he says, “Out!” Fate is a fact of life and must eventually be accepted.
But Ray is unable to do so at the present time. It came out during the analysis that there was an incident
two months before where Ray experienced a rejection over which he had no control. At the time he was quite
complacent, although devastated by it. It seemed to make sense to him that he was only now getting in touch
with the intense anger he had toward the man who he felt rejected him. The rage he was finally able to feel in
the dream points to another related issue. This was a sign of the apparent split within himself between the
subdued Catholic priest who does not feel nor express anger and that aggressive, shadow side which is seething.
Ray was coming to terms with this split by realizing that there are times when the instinctual man must rage at
the gods, despite the cherished Christian ideals of forgiveness and forbearance. There is also the distinct
probability that Ray’s personal struggle with this issue was a microcosmic reflection of a larger collective
problem.
3.
“I am standing/sitting outside a store when all of a sudden I see an old film playing, but its characters seem
to be three-dimensional. I see some baseball players dressed in old-fashioned uniforms. One man in particular
catches my eye. On the left side of his hat I see the name Ray H. I realize that he is one of my ancestors, the man
after whom I was named. I then realize that this interest in baseball goes very deep; it’s in my bones. I want to
meet him and so begin walking toward him.”
This dream is significant primarily because of the intense emotion it created in Ray. He described this
feeling as one of awe, wonder, happiness, joy. It was heightened by the fact that the man in the dream was the
one after whom Ray was named, even though, historically, there was no such person. Ray said, “I am carrying
his name, but even more - his spirit, his interest, his ability in baseball.” He later used words like “bequeath”
and “blessing” to describe the quality of the dream. A personal name is more than just a word. It carries
psychic weight, especially for a man. A name represents all those qualities and accomplishments associated
with the man who carried it. This blessing came from a deep archetypal level and connected Ray to his own
17
archetypal masculinity. That is why the dream was such a numinous experience for Ray. He had discovered
something of his personal roots and it gave him a sense of meaning.
Seeing this ancestor dressed in a baseball uniform only confirmed for Ray that his own interest in the
game of baseball was more than just personal. As he said, “This interest in baseball goes very deep; it’s in my
bones.” Ray was sharing the same fascination with baseball that his ancestor had. Whatever had made Ray’s
ancestor a ball player was making Ray one, too. This follows exactly the Mesoamerican myth found in the
Popol Vuh. The two boys are prevented from discovering the truth that their fathers were ball players who died
playing ball with the gods of the underworld. The boys live as gardeners but are not content. Only when they
stumble upon the truth by uncovering their fathers’ ball playing equipment do they finally realize their true
calling and destiny in life. This is what Ray is discovering. There is a psychic and biological connection
between him and the archetypal ball player which dwells within him. And the desire to make contact with this
archetypal ball player is so strong that Ray is able to walk into the film he is watching. Unfortunately, he is not
yet able to actually converse with this inner man. But for Ray, just seeing him is enough for now.
4.
“I am at some kind of outdoor park. I am pitching to an older man - a catcher. I am using my own ball to
warm up. It looks like I am going to be pitching in a game. The time comes when I must put my personal ball
away. I throw it over to a place some distance away where my things are. The catcher calls out to the people over
there to get that ball and put it with my things. I think he actually calls it - “his personal ball.” The catcher then
throws me another ball, newer, the game ball. I am to throw this ball now. It feels good in my hand. I feel
professional. I go into my windup. I am concentrating and feeling very focused. I deliver the pitch. It is short
and skids off the dirt in front of home plate. It’ll take a little time to get the range.”
Ray said he had no trouble understanding the meaning of this dream. It was quite obvious to him. The
catcher, an older man, is the central figure. Most people think that the pitcher is the key player on a baseball
team, because he must be able to pitch or throw the ball consistently and accurately over the plate if his team is
to have a chance of winning. And this is true. But the real captain of the team is the catcher, who is responsible
for signaling to the pitcher what kind of pitches he should throw and then trying to catch the thrown ball while
the batter is swinging at it. The catcher is also the only player, because of where he is positioned, to have a full
and unobstructed view of the entire playing field. In this dream the catcher is an old man, which Ray
immediately understood to be a wisdom figure - someone who has knowledge, experience and authority.
Ray suddenly feels the time has come to set aside his personal ball, which the catcher actually
acknowledges as being just that - “his personal ball.” Once it is released and safely secured with his other
personal effects, he is then given another ball by the catcher. This ball is newer. It is not a practice ball; it is the
“game ball.” Ray admits to feeling “professional.” He is concentrated and focused. He throws the ball. It
comes up short. He is not quite ready yet, but it is only a matter of time.
18
Ray interpreted this dream to be a reflection of his professional development as a psychotherapist. He
has been “practicing” (as opposed to actually playing) for some time. But the time for practicing has come to an
end. He is to become a “professional”. This contrast between practicing and actually playing is symbolized in
the difference between the two balls - one is his personal ball, the other the game ball. Ray thought the personal
ball could represent his own analysis, while the game ball stood for his professional work as a psychotherapist.
His own inner sense that it was time to put the one ball (or life) away, was supported by the old catcher, or wise
old man, who was careful to make sure Ray’s “personal ball” was safely stored before proceeding to throw Ray
the new professional ball (or life) he would have to learn to throw. Ray was about to begin the professional
game of his life.
Ray also commented on the fact that the first pitch he threw was “in the dirt” and not over the plate. He
recalled in the dream that while he felt good about pitching this game ball, he also felt nervous, anxious. He
was concentrating and focusing very hard, perhaps too hard. It is true that when one is just beginning anything
new there is a tendency to overcompensate and try too hard. This was a reminder to Ray that he must balance
his concentration with relaxation. But as his dreaming self concluded, this is something that will take a little
time to develop. This was yet another aspect of Ray’s sense of masculinity, his vocational calling that was
being supported by another male clothed in baseball imagery.
5.
“I am with a group of men. We have just entered a church and are making our way toward the chancel
area. I am in front. We are all naked, but I feel no shame or embarrassment about this. As we make our way
toward the chancel I begin to feel afraid when I realize that I don’t know where we’re heading. It looks like a
void. I step aside and let the other guys go before me. I follow them and see that there is a set of stairs in the
corner that leads up to a balcony. Once we are there we sit as a group looking out over the congregation and wait
for the service to begin. I thought the pulpit was down below where we had been heading, but now see that it is up
higher on the side of the wall, where we have a very good view. The minister begins speaking and says that the
church is glad to be able to sponsor us as a baseball team. I realize for the first time that we guys are all members
of a baseball team. I am very surprised that the church is doing this because I didn’t think they would be
interested.”
It had been a little more than eight months since Ray had last dreamed about a conflict between the game
of baseball and the church. The conclusion of this dream was totally unexpected and presaged a transformation.
Something had shifted and what had up to this point been dramatized as a dilemma was now being presented as
having reached some kind of resolution. The tension between the opposites had been held long enough to allow
the constellation of the transcendent function. There was now a valuing of what had previously been neglected
and rejected. A coniunctio had occurred between these two divergent poles and Ray’s sense of his own
masculinity had moved to a different level.
Completely oblivious to what is taking place, Ray, along with a group of men, has just entered a church
and is making his way up to where the altar stands. Ray is leading the way. He is naked. He is completely
19
exposed. His entire body is in full view for everyone to see, much like the ancient Greek athletes who competed
in the Olympics. His back, his chest, his genitalia, his buttocks, his thighs are all exposed. One cannot imagine
a more incongruous sight in a church. And yet Ray reports that he feels no shame or embarrassment about this.
He is coming as he is, with no pretense or persona.
As the group nears the chancel, he suddenly becomes afraid. He cannot see where he is headed. It looks
like a dark void. In his fear, he decides to allow his companions to go before him and they have no hesitation.
This masculine element has either a wisdom or a courage that Ray lacks at the present time, but Ray trusts them
enough to follow where they lead. There are some stairs in the corner which take them up to a balcony. There
is a way, a passage in what just moments before appeared to be a dead end. And this passageway elevates them
to a higher level. They are raised and, in a sense, exalted.
They are sitting above the congregation, raised in estimation. Ray thinks the pulpit is below them,
literally, but perhaps also figuratively. He is mistaken. It is on the same level as they are. The group of men
and the minister’s pulpit are on equal terms and both are being distinguished. Then the minister speaks. In his
words, Ray discovers the meaning of this entire event. “The church is glad to be able to sponsor us as a baseball
team.” The church has recognized these men, naked and in all their glory. They are being honored, supported,
sponsored. Ray realizes who his companions are. They are a baseball team. It is hard for Ray to believe. He
never thought it would have been possible.
This was an important dream for Ray on two levels. Subjectively, he began to realize that these two
antagonistic and sometimes warring opposites within him were now beginning to come together in a mutually
appreciative way. Outwardly, he had not been aware of anything dramatic happening which would have
warranted this dream. But evidently at some level these two aspects of his masculinity were now approaching
one another. Objectively, this dream suggested that he might be able to find a way to combine his spirituality
with his need to honor the Wild Man within him. It might be too much to hope for, but Ray also wondered
whether this type of convergence could ever be experienced by men and institutions on a collective level as
well.
The spirit and the body are essentially one. This fundamental truth about the nature of human beings
cannot be escaped. In the same way, the ego and the unconscious are forever linked. We can no longer deny
that the unconscious exists or that it expresses a desire to relate to the ego. The unconscious harbors the
instinctual forces of the psyche, those archetypes which guide, influence and regulate human life. These
archetypes are related to the instinctual elements of the body. They also strive to be realized by the ego. In
some places Jung aligns the instincts with the physical body, and the archetypes with the psychological world of
spirit, dreams, images and fantasies. But he can also speak of the archetypes as instinctual images, which again
20
highlights their underlying unity. When these two forces are out of balance so that either one or the other
predominates, then we feel a certain sense of self-alienation or illness. This is what moves the Self to action.
When there is a balanced relationship between the instinctual and the archetypal aspects within us, we feel a
certain sense of well-being or health. This is what the Self strives to accomplish.
Ball games have the capacity to bring the spirit and the body together. It seems clear that the playing of
ball games can easily produce a psychic state or field which allows the ego and the archetypes to merge.
Something happens when a player moves onto the field or the court or the course and begins playing the game.
Another state of consciousness emerges in which the ego is fully functioning, but in a way that takes it out of the
realm of normal everyday experience. The playing of ball games requires the combined and, hopefully,
harmonious use of a person’s mind, body and instincts. He or she must be able to think clearly, act intentionally
and respond instinctually to any number of situations. Ball players often refer to this as being “in the zone.”
Furthermore, the activity occurring on the field of play is powerful and produces a contagious effect upon those
watching. This is why spectators sometimes experience a similar state, although sometimes exaggerated to the
extreme. It is in the very nature of the game itself to produce this union between mind and body, a coniunctio
between the ego’s intentions and the unconscious’ archetypal patterns.
It is being able to fully integrate and experience the mental, physical and the archetypal world all at once
that gives the ball game its numinous quality. When the opposites are united or when disparate qualities are
suddenly brought into harmony there is a feeling of at-one-ment (atonement). This is why ancient ball games
were played in sacred places or invested with religious meaning. In earlier history the relationship between ball
games and religious ritual was more easily felt because the line between consciousness and the archetypal world
was less clearly drawn. I would say this was true up to and through the Middle Ages. But even after the
elevation and deification of reason from the time of the Enlightenment, ball games have continued to possess a
decided religious quality. They continued to foster a synthesis of mind, body and instinct because it is in the
very nature of ball games to do so.
In the so-called Modern Age, where reason, science and consciousness are valued so highly, the human
body and its natural instincts are depreciated. Add to this the effects of the Protestant Reformation with its
emphasis on knowledge, order and morality, and it is easy to see why there is such a basic distrust of the
physical and instinctual world. The body is honored, but only for what it can produce through the efforts of toil
and labor. The body, and everything associated with the body, such as sexuality, pleasure and recreation, have
been split off, suppressed and devalued. And when one part of the whole is treated thus, it is only a matter of
time before it reappears and claims its place with a vengeance.
21
Jung recognized this and spoke to it in his paper “The Spiritual Problem of Modern Man”. He
recognized the exceptional value sport puts on the body, perhaps out of proportion precisely because it is a
compensation. Ironically, it is our relatively recent attraction to the psyche as a phenomenon in its own right
that has brought about this “new self-appraisal ... [and] reassessment of our fundamental human nature”9 with
regard to the body. Jung writes,
“We can hardly be surprised if this leads to a rediscovery of the
body after its long subjection to the spirit - we are even tempted to say
that the flesh is getting its own back. The body lays claim to equal
recognition; it exerts the same fascination as the psyche. If we are still
caught in the old idea of an antithesis between mind and matter, this
state of affairs must seem like an unbearable contradiction. But if we
can reconcile ourselves to the mysterious truth that the spirit is the life
of the body seen from within, and the body the outward manifestation
of the life of the spirit - the two being really one - then we can understand
why the striving to transcend the present level of consciousness through
acceptance of the unconscious must give the body its due, and why
recognition of the body cannot tolerate a philosophy that denies it in the
name of the spirit. These claims of physical and psychic life, incomparably
stronger than they were in the past, may seem a sign of decadence, but
they may also signify a rejuvenation, for as Holderlin says:
Where danger is,
Also arises salvation.10
Perhaps we can now more fully understand the powerful influence ball games have on player and
spectator alike. Ball games not only contain an intrinsic numinous quality of their own, but they have also been
imbued with a powerful compensatory effect due to the collective’s long devaluation of the body.
Something numinous in the actual playing of the ball game can be traced to the wedding of the spiritual
and the physical. But there are other archetypal aspects which also come into play. One of these is the symbolic
goal or purpose of the game. In all ball games there is a goal towards which the players or participants strive, an
intense forward movement that is not satisfied until it reaches completion. This striving toward something, this
propensity for growth is also a basic archetypal pattern in the human psyche. From our earliest years there is
development on all sides - physical, mental, emotional, and social. And as Jolande Jacobi suggests, such natural
development can be understood as being related to the process of individuation. But there is something of the
individuation process, at least as Jung understood it, which wants to take this natural development further. It is
9
10
Ibid., par. 195.
Ibid., par. 195.
22
that process of psychological differentiation whose goal is to bring about the individual personality. This
process does not occur outside the physical or instinctual realm, but actually tries to include it in the equation,
for it also is a part of the whole. The psyche’s striving towards a specific goal is manifested in a ball player’s
desire to “be the best he can be,” to play the game to the best of his ability.
Although the ego and the unconscious are fundamentally related, there are many times in life when they
are not in balance. One or the other attempts to hold sway, to have its own way. When this happens there is
conflict. We suddenly feel the presence of the opposites. We are caught up in their struggle. We suffer the
tension. We endeavor to endure until there is resolution. This psychic conflict, which also involves the
physical, is another archetypal pattern found in ball games. As well as having a goal towards which to strive,
there is also an “opponent” against whom we must struggle. The two cannot be separated. There would be no
goal, no game, if there were no one against whom to contest. “Life is born only of the spark of the opposites,”11
Jung says. In a ball game a person learns that conflict, struggle and endurance are important, precisely because
these things can produce some new understandings - of self and of others.
We are social animals. We cannot separate ourselves from the community in which we live. There is
sometimes the mistaken idea that individuation means becoming an individual apart from the collective. This is
not true. The process of individuation involves becoming one’s true self so that one can give back something
new to the collective. Ball games have as a part of their structure the combining of individual endeavor with
collective responsibility, at least on the field of play, but many times off the field of play as well.
Ball games, as symbolic activity, express archetypal patterns at all levels whether they are consciously
understood or not. Transformation is taking place. If it were not, they would command no fascination, no
captivation, no participation. Jung wrote extensively about the transformation symbolism of the Mass. He
concluded that the worshippers may not have consciously understood the transformation symbolism nor been
completely aware of its effects, but they were transformed nonetheless by the power of the liturgy and the ritual.
I believe the same is true of ball games, whether one is a player or a spectator. There is transformation
occurring, however unconsciously, in part because ball games involve symbols of transformation. The medieval
church was able, for a time, to hold together the spiritual and instinctual aspects of both the Mass and the ball
game. This was highly unusual and it did not go uncontested. In the end, the fundamental unity was again split,
because there lies in Christianity, and in our subsequent Western civilization, a profound fear of the carnal.
11
C. G. Jung, “The Problem of the Attitude-Type,” Collected Works: Two Essays in Analytical
Psychology, Vol. 7, Princeton: Bollingen Press, 1977, par. 78.
23
Those various instincts that are a natural part of our human makeup are not valued. Their wisdom is not to be
trusted. They have been driven underground, where, as Jung would say, they are waiting to get their own back.
Ball games are one method through which the body can have its say.
The baseball imagery which appeared in Ray’s dreams reflected many of the archetypal figures and
motifs associated with being consciously engaged in the individuation process, which seeks to hold spirit and
body together. Ray encountered his shadow, his persona, the wise old man, the positive and negative father, fate
and the trickster. He found himself wrestling with such archetypal motifs as the night sea journey, the initiation
into the world of men, the recognition of his own true masculinity, the discovery of one’s real calling in life, the
reception of the father’s blessing, and the reality of aging and death. He felt the anxiety and suffering that
accompanies holding the tension of the opposites, as well as the numinosity and joy that comes with the arrival
of the transcendent function. He learned how important it is for a man to value his body, his emotions and his
instincts, as well as his intellectual and spiritual sides. All these figures and motifs expressed themselves
through the imagery of the game of baseball and contributed to Ray’s process of individuation by establishing a
rapport between Ray and the inner world of the unconscious.
But throughout Ray’s dreams, the historical Mesoamerican ball game reconstructed earlier, the rituals
and practices of certain medieval Roman Catholic churches, and the examination of myth and fairy tale, the
most central, although at times inconspicuous, the most central archetype present is that of the Self, represented
by the ball. The ball remains the pivotal point around which both inner and outer life revolves precisely because
it is the quintessential representation of wholeness in both the human psyche and the universe. It is the focus of
the ball game because it is the focus of life. It demands attention and reverence because it is the numinous
source of life. In fact, one could consider it the archetypal symbol of all life itself. Perhaps this is why the ball,
which is the central object of so many games, has had and will continue to have such a profound effect upon
those who play with it.
The historical and cultural estrangement which has occurred between Christendom and ball play
continues to perpetuate the false notion that the soul and the body are and must always be at war. This
assumption is clearly questioned by the fact that the very playing of a ball game itself fosters and necessitates
the union of body and soul. The breach between Christendom and the ball game may or may never be mended
again. The two worlds may have drifted too far apart from one another to ever realize their mutual relationship.
24
But one can only hope that men and women might once again recover the numinous experience and
transformative power of the ball and the ball game. This might come about through actually playing a ball
game, through reflecting upon one’s playing experience, through meditating upon the symbolic meaning of the
game, or through the conscious and deliberate attempt to understand its sometimes cryptic imagery when it
appears in one’s dreams. The phenomenon of the ball and ball games is one very natural means we have to
approach our own psychological individuation. Today more than ever, we need to know that body and soul
need not be at war. Perhaps it is fitting, though ironic, that a 6th century Bishop of Naples would remind us
that, at least in his day, certain ball games were played “for the comfort and refreshment of the soul.”12
12
C. G. Jung, Dream Analysis: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1928-30, Vol. 1, London: Routledge
and Kegan Paul, 1984, p27.