“Only by sacrificing what we have can we know what we have. Real sacrifice is made with the same definiteness and lack of bargaining that is involved in throwing something away We can do this only if we are forced by a greater power in us – a power stronger than the ego – that gives us the necessary strength. We experience this power as an inner imperative that tells us that we “must.” In Jungian psychology we understand that as a message from the Self, the regulating center of the pysche. The sacrificer and what is sacrificed are one and the same: it is always the Self.”
― Marie-Louise von Franz, Animus and Anima in Fairy Tales”
It is no accident that we associate sacrifice with the highest forms of love. The problem here is that often times what we perceive as self-sacrifice and selfless love is actually the opposite. The ego-mind can deceive us here too and switch things up. It will tell us that the pleasure and joy of giving to the other(s) is a sacrifice, and fail to notice the fact that when it is not reciprocated, we are offended and feel wronged. If our sacrifice was genuine, however, we would not feel this way.
Therefore, Marie Franz’s thought above is a true guide to what true self-sacrifice really is – it is giving as if you are finally parting with what you give. It is the attitude that you don’t expect to get back. And since the world of matter, i.e. duality, is a world of distorted mirrors, I would like to point out that the opposite, the balance between giving and receiving, also has its very important place in our lives. It determines whether we will have long-term and fulfilling relationships with other people.
The theme of self-sacrifice becomes prominent only when the impulse for individuation (the awakening of the soul) arises in our lives. If we want to follow this impulse and know the deeper dimension of love, we will not get away with making sacrifices. Here comes the importance of knowing that the one who makes the sacrifice and the one who sacrifices is the same – the Self. This statement by Marie Franz can only be understood in the context of the basic idea of individuation as a process that takes place as an interaction between the two centers of the Self. On the one side is the experiential self, the ego, and on the other side is the archetype of the Whole Person from which it emerges. And the one who makes the sacrifice is the Whole Person, the god within us. We can see this clearly in the Christian myth. The one who makes the sacrifice is the Father, and the one sacrificed is his son. However, these two are the same thing because:
“I and the Father are one” (John 10:30-32).
Anyone who knows the dark night of the soul knows how the spirit feels when put into the bottle of embodiment. The feeling of emptiness can be overwhelming even if you are surrounded by the things that make other people happy. But this is exactly what the experience looks like when the eternal and infinite awakens in the body of mortal man. The goal of this awakening is to raise the level of awareness, and what is sacrificed to achieve this are the joys and pleasures of the earthly self, which we often call the ego. I am reminded of some other words of Jung on this subject:
“What I sacrifice is my selfish desire, so at the same time, you deny yourself. That’s why every sacrifice is more or less a self-sacrifice. “
C.G. Jung, “The Psychology of Western Religion”
In other words, it is only when we look at our lives through the prism of the Source from which we came that we can understand what true sacrifice is. The irony is that the same thing that was experienced as sacrifice is then no longer perceived as such. And since in the world of duality the release from something is inevitably taken up by another thing, to the release from selfish pretensions of the desire to receive affection from another person comes a love of another quality. Or, as a Sufi wisdom says:
“He whose love has always been mutual does not know true love.”
It is the knowledge of this love that is the reward for one who has for a long time stood crucified between the two centers of the Self. He has experienced the pain of the incarnating god. For a long time he has listened to the protests of his earthly representative. He has known what powerlessness means and has died inwardly hundreds of times. Finally, out of this anguish has emerged the kernel that unites the two parts of the Self. Then comes the reward. What has been sacrificed comes back repeatedly, but in another form – love as a quality of the inner being, a child of freedom.
Kameliya Hadzhiyska
