If you will contemplate your lack of fantasy, of inspiration and inner aliveness, which you feel is sheer stagnation and a barren wilderness, and impregnate it with the interest born of your inner death, then something can take shape in you, for your inner emptiness conceals just as great a fulness if only you can allow it to penetrate into you. If you prove receptive to this ‘call of the world’, this longing for fulfilment would quicken the sterile wilderness of your soul as rain quickens the dry earth. (Thus the soul to the laborant, staring glumly at his stove and scratching himself behind the ear because he has no more ideas.)
– C.G. Jung. Mysterium Coniunctionis (para 190)
Image – John William Waterhouse – Sketch of Circe. 1911-1914
Cosmic Flotsam 