The Archetype of Death
On rituals and the great return to psychic structures
“Consciousness can only exist through continual recognition of the unconscious, just as everything that lives must pass through many deaths.”
— C.G. Jung, Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious (CW 9.1)
What is it about certain conflicts, certain ruptures in life, relationships or the psyche that appears to rip the fabric of reality apart at the seams? It often comes unbidden, like the sudden bursting of floodgates that drown the land with a rush of fury. Or perhaps it had been lurking in the shadows, stalking us from afar, its presence only detectible in the most subtle and covert ways. Whether it comes from the unlucky spinning of Fate’s wheel or a reckoning long in the works, there is one aspect of the pattern that appears time and time again: Death has arrived to claim its due.
With sickle in hand, Death comes to reap the harvest of what was once growing, fertile, abundant. Its skeletal gaze stops us in our tracks, without eyes, yet able to bore so deeply into the soul. Layer upon layer it peels us back, a sharpened scythe that knows just how to cut into the most tender and vulnerable pieces of our being. Haunting as it may feel, the angel’s blackened wings envelop us, and all we can do is surrender, surrender, surrender.
Death came to visit me recently, an archetype so powerfully constellated that the energy of my existence felt as if it was painfully withering away — overwhelming in its all-consuming bleakness, pendulum swinging from lifeless chill to hellscape heat. The intensity of it lasted roughly a week and yet the experience felt like lifetimes suffered. Time warps in strange ways when the Grim Reaper has you in its grip, who can say what is real and what is not?
That feeling of being torn apart, of destruction or annihilation, of slow and corrosive endings is characteristic when the structures of consciousness are being rebuilt. As Jung notes in the quote above, confrontation with the unconscious is the energizing force that expands our awareness, that generates new insight. All that is living, that participates in the flow of life and creation, is subject to death in some form.
Sometimes it is a sweet ending, a drifting to sleep where we fall into eternal darkness. Other times, it is harsh, swift, all encompassing and ruthless. Such is the nature of Death, it moves with its own rhythms. Yet the knowledge of such archetypal inner workings doesn’t make the experience any easier, any more bearable.
The faintest acknowledgment, “Some part of me feels as if it is dying,” was all I could muster as I hovered on the threshold.
How long can one stand in the numinous power of an archetype and still feel human, still have a sense of grounding in oneself? In my case, not for very long, and it became clear that containment was needed. In times such as these, I find myself dipping into the archetypal toolkit I’ve honed over time. For example…reformulate the challenge as an alchemical prima materia and tinker with its properties1, search for a mythology with a similar thread of development and use it as a map to orient, draw a tarot card and dig into its symbols and applications.
But Death seemed to steer me somewhere different. It did not want offerings of mythic images or alchemical toiling. It wanted ritual, candlelit mourning, sinking prayer and meditative silence. And so I obliged. Tear-streaked writings flowed out like sorrowful streams, yearning to return to the source. I drifted in the borderlands, here but not here, present and yet in the void. It was sacred and profane, the most natural, mundane of acts that was imbued with holy meaning.
A Ritual Return
“Unless cultural rituals support the leap from one level of consciousness to another, there are no containing walls within which the process can happen. Without an understanding of myth or religion, without an understanding of the relationship between destruction and creation, death and rebirth, the individual suffers the mysteries of life as meaningless mayhem—alone.”
— Marion Woodman, The Pregnant Virgin
Something felt as if it shifted through the act, although I could not claim any major developments would be reliably long lasting. Rather, I have found that rituals such as these can act as catalysts for movement, integration, and the shoring up of resources. Without continued action and perseverance, we tend to lose the thread and find ourselves once more in a place of hardship. Meaningful change happens steadily, in layers, it spirals deeper and builds on itself. I would need to keep going, keep weaving the psychological tapestry I was attempting to reconcile if I hoped to move forward.
After wandering through Death’s graveyard for a time, I fell into a deep sleep and had this dream:
I was in a large, ornate and intentionally designed structure (a temple?). People all around me were standing upon long wooden stakes, a strange ritual was happening. Many had died, they were workers who had been building this place, members of the clan or community. Their bodies were being laid into the structure, interred into the walls. It was intense, and gazing downward, into a crevasse or never-ending chasm, I could see layers of this — walls, open structure, bodies ritually dressed. After a time, I realized a woman was missing, someone important to the clan, people were looking for her. It was uncertain if she had been placed into the structure. I awoke with the sense that she had sacrificed herself, willingly gone of her own accord to join with the others.
It is typical to experience various psychosomatic dynamics when the unconscious has been activated. When the psyche awakens a constellation of emotions, somatic impressions, images, behaviors are illuminated. A sharpened awareness can capture these as they arise and place them on a psychic map that fleshes out what is being worked on, where the energy is moving, and how to further the conversation.
Clearly, the ritual produced a related dream, what does this one say about my situation?
The temple felt like a symbolic reflection of my own psyche, a container that houses life and death simultaneously.
Continued expansion, the growth of consciousness or metamorphosis, requires death and sacrifice. But not unduly so, not bereft of meaning or purpose. It is a sacred act, one done so lovingly, even when the heaviness of its reality feels like too much to hold.
Construction requires many individuals, that is, sparks of my own psychological essences that each carry a unique flavor and character. But it was the woman at the end, whose aura held great significance, that stuck out most. She had willingly given herself to the temple as a sacrifice, to a greater purpose.
Her death felt like the Great Return, that she jumped from the beams and into the depths to merge with the psychological structure that housed my very soul, that I was born of and from. Perhaps, as we are visited by Death, we must acknowledge how we experience endings in many ways. For some parts of ourselves, it is the natural withering of a lifetime (working on the temple walls till the body finally gives out). For other parts, it is self-sacrificial, before their perceived time is up, even when their role feels integral to the successful workings of the structure (she is important, her lack of presence is noted, but her death is not in vain). Yes, something in me is dying, but that energy is welcomed home and may soon arise in new form.
Symbolically, Death brings change but that does not spare us from its haunting images or agonizing emotions. The difficult truth is that it will often hurt or feel like a loss, but I think the lesson I am taking away is that containment can help us navigate the throes of a painful encounter. Perspective can help us see how it weaves into the unfolding of our lives. Death comes for all, one way or another. How we choose to meet it is where the inner work challenge lies.
Join the conversation
How do you approach the archetype of Death? Are there any rituals you work with to navigate the painful initiations? Do you notice similar themes in your dreams or other psychological manifestations during these times?
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For an introduction to this technique, see the Alchemical Inner Work class.
Hello Alyssa - i love this post. I have also been feeling this - my guides told me that I am in the season of death, of 1000 little deaths. So much came through me that I had to write about it (there are 2 parts) - my sense of acceptance and forgiveness I needed to do the work. My analogy was to have a cup of tea with death rather than fearing it. I also did a ritual to let go what must be released. Seems we are in the same place. Your is waaay more elegant, and I loved reading it.
https://ericaphillips.substack.com/p/intuitive-transformation-with-our
“Death comes for all… it’s how we choose to meet it…” That is the key, how we choose. Will our final days, hours be filled with fear and regret or will we accept death and experience peace on our deathbed?