Philé Möller Counselling Psychologist

26/08/2025

Theodore Roszak, one of the pioneers of ecopsychology, proposed that at the core of the psyche lies the ecological unconscious. He believed that repressing this dimension is one of the root causes of the collective madness of industrial society.

In many ways, ecopsychology can be seen as deeply Jungian in spirit. In his writings, Jung continually returned to themes that we would now call ecopsychological: the collective unconscious, archetypal patterns, and the anima mundi—the living soul of the world.

Roszak described the ecological unconscious as a “living record of cosmic evolution,” while Jung reminded us that:

“Every civilized human being, however high his conscious development, is still an archaic man at the deeper levels of his psyche… the human psyche is likewise a product of evolution which, when followed up to its origins, shows countless archaic traits.”

Both ecopsychology and Jungian psychology recognise that we are not simply connected or disconnected from nature. Rather, we are nature; we are earth; we are cosmos. In this recognition lies a reciprocal existence: as we live as part of this world, we impact it, and it in turn impacts us.

Healing, therefore, cannot only take place on the individual, relational, or societal level. An inseparable part of this process is, in Roszak’s words, “to awaken the inherent sense of environmental reciprocity that lies within the ecological unconscious.”

As Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee expresses: “First we have to step out of our dream of separation, the insularity with which we have imprisoned ourselves, and acknowledge that we are part of a multidimensional living spiritual being we call the world… Only as part of a living whole can we help to heal the world.”

From this Jungian-ecopsychological perspective, healing ourselves and healing the earth are inseparable. To awaken to the ecological unconscious is to remember that psyche and cosmos are woven together and that our task is not only personal wholeness, but also participation in the healing of the living world.

~ Written by Philé Möller, Counselling Psychologist (philemollerpsychology)

References:
- Jung, C.G. Collected Works, Volume 10, par.105.
- Roszak, T. (1992). The Voice of the Earth: An Exploration of Ecopsychology.
- Vaughan-Lee, L. (2013). Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth. The Golden Sufi Centre.

Image credit: Unknown

24/07/2025

The natural world holds so many sacred moments, moments of absolute magic and wonder. Beauty so raw it makes your heart ache, moments that require us to pause, to take off our shoes and let the soil touch our bare feet, to lift our gaze to the sound of geese and watch them flying home.

I recently experienced such a moment on a cold winter’s night in the midlands. There on an aloe flower bud I saw a small chameleon sleeping, its little bearded chin resting on and perfectly aligned with the tip, its Lego hands gently clutching the scaled sides, its tail curled precisely at the bottom of the bud. Both aloe and chameleon dressed in matching colours of green and yellow, a perfect pair caught in a quiet sacred embrace. This small delicate creature exposed to the elements finding a refuge for the night on a willing aloe bud. A brief encounter that filled me with awe and left me deeply enchanted with this life and this world.

As Jung wrote: “Natural life is the nourishing soil of the soul…” In a world that these days so often feels hollowed out, mechanized, and distracted, moments like these remind us that meaning is not always constructed, it is encountered.

When disenchanted by the world, return to wonder, allow yourself to be enchanted by the beauty of this earth. Take a moment to be mesmerized by the pollen clinging to a bee’s legs, the reassuring rustling of leaves in autumn, the slow and determined march of ants, the wide-eyed gaze of a bushbaby and its ambitious jump from tree to tree, or the final journey of an anglerfish born in darkness making her way to the surface to catch a glimpse of daylight before her death.

As Rachel Carson reminds us: “Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”

Written by Philé Möller, Counselling Psychologist ()

References:
Jung, C. G. (1976). 'The symbolic life: Miscellaneous writings, CW 18' [627]. Princeton University Press.

Image source: Shutterstock

22/07/2025

“As scientific understanding has grown, so our world has become dehumanized. Man feels himself isolated in the cosmos, because he is no longer involved in nature and has lost his emotional ‘unconscious identity’ with natural phenomena.

Thunder is no longer the voice of an angry god, nor is lightning his avenging missile. No river contains a spirit, no tree is the life principle of a man, no snake the embodiment of wisdom, no mountain cave the home of a great demon. No voices now speak to man from stones, plants, and animals, nor does he speak to them believing they can hear.

His contact with nature has gone, and with it has gone the profound emotional energy that this symbolic connection supplied.”

~ Carl G. Jung, 𝘔𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘴 (New York: Doubleday, 1964), pp. 94-95

Image credit: “The Druids” by illustrator Julia Tar

20/03/2025

As Jung acknowledged, creativity is part of the 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵—an integral, vital, and necessary aspect of being human. Trauma, or certain formative and restrictive life experiences, can disrupt this instinctual energy and the natural flow that emanates from our psyche. When we lose our ability to be creative, we lose a part of who we are—or who we could be. We become cut off from the unconscious and the collective psyche: that abundant, self-replenishing source of creative life to which Jung often referred.

Jung was deeply and intuitively attuned to this inner life. Through creative practice, he actively explored the psyche to understand his own experience of being human—and of being himself. Like many artists, he bravely entered the depths of his inner world, always in search of a deeper and fuller understanding—not only of the personal unconscious but also of how it connects with the collective.

In 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘥 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬, Jung emphasized that while his particular path was not universal, there exists a fundamental principle: that creative expression can serve as a method to engage with the unconscious—both personal and collective. The symbolic meaning of the images, creatures, and figures that arise from our inner world—whether from the light or the dark—can be deeply transformative when we allow them to come alive and take form in whatever way they must.

As Jung wrote: “The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.”

Written by Philé Möller (), Counselling Psychologist

Image credit: ‘Improvisation Gorge’, Wassily Kandinsky

References:

Erickson, J. (2018). Jung and the Neurobiology of the Creative Unconscious. Journal of Jungian Scholarly Studies, Volume 13, 2018.

Jung, C.G. (1971). Collected Works. Psychological Types (vol 6). p.123, par.197.

10/03/2025

Our Quote of the Week.

“Creativity is, and perhaps will always be, a great mystery. Though explanations will be given and measurements will be made, the simple phenomenon of something new coming into being is at heart akin to the miracle of life itself. Some may be content with the technical explanations and strictly materialistic accounts, but for many more, the glimmer of mystery remains.” ~ Johnathan Erickson

Erickson, J. (2018). Jung and the Neurobiology of the Creative Unconscious. Journal of Jungian Scholarly Studies, Volume 13, 2018.

25/02/2025

"There is a curse," they say. "May you live in interesting times." – Terry Pratchett

In times like these, questions outnumber answers. When humanity holds its breath collectively, fear becomes tangible, pressing against the walls of our shared consciousness.

How do we find sanctuary in a world ruptured by violence, when we ourselves are fragmented, unmoored by trauma? How do we hold space for the unknown—and for the unknowable experiences of others—when disconnection, ignorance, and misinformation are wielded to divide?

We weave a thousand small fictions to make sense of the world, each one a fragile thread in the fabric of our reality. But what happens when those threads unravel? When the narratives of others—ones we cannot comprehend—begin to fray? When certainty itself collapses, and we come face to face with each other’s wounds?

To hold space for the unknown is to resist the impulse to explain, to fix, or to justify. It is to sit in the discomfort of uncertainty, to witness without verdict.

To find our way through the darkness is to acknowledge that there is a wisdom greater than ourselves, to connect with our intuition, to a higher Self—to know that our reflection is not only our own, and not the only one, but part of a million others, each carrying a fragment of a greater truth.

As Tool’s song ‘Reflection’ from their album ‘Lateralus’ (2001) suggests: "And in my darkest moment, fetal and weeping, the moon tells me a secret, my confidant. As full and as bright as I am, this light is not my own, and a million light reflections pass over me. Its source is bright and endless; she resuscitates the hopeless. Without her, we are lifeless satellites, drifting."

These lyrics encourage humility, the acceptance of uncertainty, and the importance of seeking wisdom beyond the self. Holding on to a greater knowing while absorbing and reflecting the million fragments of our shared experience however painful that might be.

Written by Philé Möller, Counselling Psychologist ()

Image credit: ‘Self-Reflection' by Achim Prill

28/01/2025

Our Quote of the Week.

“The opus magnum had two aims: the rescue of the human soul (its integration) and the salvation of the cosmos.... This work is difficult and strewn with obstacles; Right at the beginning you meet the "dragon," the chthonic spirit, the "devil" or, as the alchemists called it, the "blackness," the nigredo, and this encounter produces suffering. In the language of the alchemists, matter suffers until the nigredo disappears, when the "dawn" (aurora) will be announced by the "peacock's tail" (cauda pavonis) and a new day will break.” ~ (Jung,1977:228)

The opus magnum, or "Great Work," in alchemy is a symbol of the psychological process and the cyclical nature of healing and transformation in trauma. This ancient concept holds significant relevance in understanding how individuals overcome and integrate traumatic experiences.

Trauma, by its very nature, fractures the psyche, leaving individuals stuck in time and disconnected from themselves and their environment.

The nigredo or blackness parallels the experience of trauma, where an individual encounters deep psychological pain, confusion and despair. The emergence of the aurora and cauda pavonis signify a moment of transformation and hope. After enduring the dark phase, glimpses of renewal and beauty emerge.

It is through the metaphorical lens of alchemy that we can appreciate that the journey through trauma is arduous and filled with obstacles, but it is also a path to deep healing and transformation.

Written by Philé Moller, Counselling Psychologist ()

Reference:
Jung, C.G. (1977) 𝘊.𝘎 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘥. Wm. McGuire and R.F.C. Hull, Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press

28/01/2025

Dissociation is a common and profound response to trauma. When the psyche encounters experiences too overwhelming to hold in consciousness, it employs dissociation as a defence mechanism.

Donald Kalsched describes this process as a temporary “dismembering” of experience—a separation of the ego’s functions in the interest of psychic numbness. This involves what he calls an “attack on the links” between affect and image, perception and thought, sensation and knowledge. The result is that experience becomes fragmented and meaningless, coherent memory disintegrates, and the process of individuation is interrupted.

When the links are severed/broken our experiences become atemporal. Certain parts of ourselves and experiences are split off, leaving us unable to experience life fully. Trauma holds us captive in a liminal space, a “transitional zone” between the inner self and the outer world. In this state, we lose not only our connection to life but also the capacity to experience ourselves within it.

Depth psychology invites us to view this dissociative defence not merely as a pathology but as the psyche’s attempt to protect itself from unbearable pain. Yet, it also highlights the need for integration - the healing work of re-establishing the severed links between affect, sensation, thought, and meaning. Deborah Bryon writes “integrating traumatic experiences that have become split off and held in “timeless” unconscious states of implicit memory is an essential aspect of psychic healing.”

Trauma, while devastating, does not have to define the self. With care and attention to the depths of the psyche, we can move from fragmentation to integration, from numbness to aliveness.

Written by Philé Möller, Counselling Psychologist ()

Image Credit: Edvard Munch, The Vampire I

References:
Donald Kalsched (1996). The Inner World of Trauma

Bessel van der Kolk (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma

Deborah Bryon (2023). Time and Trauma in Analytical Psychology and Psychotherapy: The Wisdom of Andean Shamanism

11/01/2025

14/11/2024

“The pendulum of the mind oscillates between sense and nonsense, not between right and wrong.” ~ C.G. Jung

Many of us struggle with ambivalence, being torn between opposing thoughts or emotions. Feeling both joy and sadness at once. Or a sense of purpose mixed with doubt. When caught between conflicting emotions or opposing thoughts we can experience confusion or uncertainty, anxiety and distress.

The need often arises within us to resolve such tension, by attaching a value judgement to our internal experience. We want to choose between what we think is right versus what we judge to be a wrong thought or emotion. However, our thoughts and emotions don’t follow the rigid lines of a moral framework of right or wrong or black or white. Instead, we swing back and forth between clarity and confusion, rationality and absurdity, logic and feeling.

It’s human nature to want things to make sense, to fit neatly into categories. When we experience the ambivalence of opposites it can be overwhelming, even paralysing. Jung believed that this ambivalence is not something to be ‘fixed’ but to be understood and integrated. In many ways this internal push and pull is a natural part of the psyche’s process to find balance.

According to Jung, “All conceivable statements are made by the psyche. Among other things, the psyche appears as a dynamic process which rests on a foundation of antithesis, on a flow of energy between two poles.”

When we resist the swing of the pendulum, we stop the flow of energy, we remain stuck, unable to move forward. But when we allow it to flow naturally, without judgement, we begin to see that if we tolerate the tension of opposites, we integrate all aspects of ourselves. It is in the space between sense and nonsense that we move closer to our inner truth.

Written by Philé Möller, Counselling Psychologist -

Image credit: ‘Dormeuse, cheval, lion invisibles’ by Salvador Dali
References: C.G. Jung (1989). ‘Memories, Dreams, Reflections’.