What if the thing that irritates you most about your colleague is actually a reflection of something you refuse to see in yourself?

Carl Jung spent his life exploring the hidden architecture of the human psyche. His concept of the shadow, the repressed, disowned parts of our personality remains one of the most useful tools for understanding why we stumble, why we project, and why we feel stuck.

In this imaginary post-mortem interview, Jung sits down to answer the questions we rarely ask: Where does the shadow come from? How does it show up in our daily lives? And what does it really mean to become whole?

Read on for a conversation that might just change how you see yourself.

Who is Carl Gustav Jung?

Carl Gustav Jung (1875–1961) was a Swiss psychiatrist and the founder of analytical psychology. Originally a collaborator of Sigmund Freud, he broke away to explore the deeper layers of the psyche.

Jung introduced the concept of the shadow: the hidden, repressed parts of ourselves we refuse to see. These disowned qualities do not disappear, they resurface through projection, meaning we unconsciously see our own darkness in others.

For Jung, true growth meant recognizing the shadow, withdrawing our projections, and integrating these lost parts into a greater whole.

Erik: Professor Jung, first of all, thank you for taking the time for this conversation. I realize you are in a... different state of being now.

Jung: (laughs softly) Time is a curious concept, Erik. On this side, it means little. I am happy to answer your questions. It reminds me of the countless hours in my study in Küsnacht, where people came from all over the world to examine their souls. Ask your question.

Erik: In your work, and in the text you recently dictated to me, the concept of the 'shadow' is central. For many people, it remains a vague, almost frightening idea. Can you explain it in the simplest terms? What is the shadow, concretely?

Jung: See it as the room in your house that you never enter. You lock the door, you throw in all the things that aren't tidy enough for the living room, all the broken furniture you don't want to see, but also the heirlooms that don't fit the modern decor. You live in the neat living room—that is your persona, the face you show the world. But you live in a house. That dark room is also there. And believe me, what you lock away in there does not simply disappear. It begins to live, to whisper, and eventually, it pounds on the door.

Erik: Pounding on the door? How does an ordinary person notice that?

Jung: In your irritations, Erik. In your inexplicable mood swings. In the dreams you don't understand. But most clearly, you see it in what I call projection. Have you ever been unreasonably irritated by a colleague? Do you find someone "insufferably arrogant" or "pitifully clingy"? Then be honest. That arrogance, that clinginess... it is often your own repressed quality that you see in the mirror of the other. You are not fighting them; you are fighting your own shadow.

A Quote from Jung for Reflection:
"Only when we have the courage to see our own shadow do we truly begin to bring light into the darkness of the world."

Erik: That sounds confrontational. But let's make it personal. Suppose : I am Erik. I work hard, I am caring toward my family, I try to be a 'good person.' What, in your view, might my shadow be?

Jung: (looks intently at Erik) That I cannot tell you, Erik. That is your journey. But I can show you the way. You say: "I try to be a good person." A noble aspiration. But who decides what is 'good'? Your upbringing? Your church? Society? To maintain that 'good' mask, you must inevitably suppress everything labeled as 'bad.' Your anger. Your assertiveness. Your selfishness. Your sexual desires that don't fit the picture. That is your shadow. But note: in that same shadow also lies your suppressed strength, your creativity, your wildness. The spontaneity you had as a child but lost because you weren't allowed to be "so boisterous."

Erik: So my shadow is not necessarily 'bad'? It can also be positive, suppressed energy?

Jung: Precisely! The shadow is amoral; it is neither good nor bad, it is simply unlived. Take the artist. Often, they are people with a turbulent inner world. They have the courage to look into that dark room. They take the pain, the anger, the longing and give it form on a canvas or in a book. That is shadow integration. Without that darkness, their art would be bland and lifeless.

My shadow is not necessarily 'bad'. It can also be positive, suppressed energy.

Erik: You also spoke of a 'collective shadow.' That sounds even grander and more frightening.

Jung: (becomes serious) Yes. The history of the 20th century is the gruesome proof. Entire nations, entire civilizations can develop a shadow. Look at my own time. Germany, the land of poets and thinkers, of high culture and civilization, descended into the most inhumane barbarism. Everything that 'civilized' Germany had repressed—the primitive, the cruel, the pagan—erupted in National Socialism. The attempt to collectively deny the shadow leads to collective catastrophes. War is often nothing other than the collective shadow of one nation colliding with that of another. One projects one's own evil onto the enemy.

Erik: That is a heavy thought. How should we, as individuals, deal with this? It sounds like we are constantly living on a volcano.

Jung: Not constantly, Erik. But the volcano is there. The art is not to let it erupt, but to get to know it. To occasionally venture an expedition to the crater's edge. That is what I call individuation. It is the lifelong process of becoming who you truly are, and that is more than just your persona. It is embracing the totality: light and dark.

Erik: And how do I begin such an expedition? What is the first step for someone like me?

Jung: The first step is the most painful: recognition. Stop lying to yourself. The next time you are annoyed with someone, instead of saying "how annoying that other person is," ask yourself: "Where do I know this from? Where is this in me?" Keep a dream diary. Dreams are the voice of the unconscious; they often show you your shadow plainly. You dream you kill someone? It doesn't mean you are a murderer, but perhaps that you want to radically end an aspect of yourself (an old habit, a relationship).

Erik: It sounds exhausting. Isn't it simply easier to stay in that nice living room and keep the door to that dark room tightly shut?

Jung: (smiles wearily) Easier? Certainly. Just as it is easier to never exercise and only eat fatty foods. In the short term, yes. But in the long term, you become ill. The shadow you ignore grows stronger. It manifests in inexplicable outbursts of anger, in psychosomatic complaints, in relationships that fall apart without you understanding why. Ultimately, if you keep ignoring it, it can take over your life. The path of individuation is not easy, but it is the path to freedom. It is the path to wholeness, not perfection.

The shadow you ignore grows stronger. 

Erik: Wholeness instead of perfection. That is a beautiful thought to take with me. Professor Jung, I realize I have already asked you much. I want to ask you one more thing: what, in your view, is the biggest misconception about your work?

Jung: (thinks for a long time) That people think it is esoteric or elitist. My work is brutally hard and grounded. It is about courage. The courage to look in the mirror and say: "This, too, is me." The courage to acknowledge that you are not only the light, but also the twilight. That is not an escape from reality; it is the ultimate confrontation with it. And it all begins with that one, defining question...

Erik: ..."What do I not want to see in myself?" You wrote that.

Jung: (nods approvingly) You paid attention, Erik. Keep asking that question. Your whole life long. That is the only way to become truly human.

What do I not want to see in myself?