But what about men, what about mankind?
There they stood, the two deserted bridges that should lead across to mankind: one leads from above to below, and men glide down on it, which pleases them. / The other leads from below to above and mankind groans upward on it.
This causes them trouble. We drive our fellow men to trouble and joy If I myself do not live, but merely climb, it gives others undeserved pleasure.
If I simply enjoy myself it causes others undeserved trouble. If I merely live, I am far removed from men.
They no longer see me, and when they see me, they are astonished and shocked.
I myself however, quite simply living, greening, blooming, fading, stand like a tree always in the same spot and let the suffering and the joy of men pass over me with equanimity.
And yet I am a man who cannot excuse himself from the discord of the human heart.
But my ideals can also be my dogs, whose yapping and squabbling do not disturb me.
But at least then I am a good and a bad dog to men.
But I have not yet achieved what should be, namely that I live and yet am a man.
It seems to be nearly impossible to live as a man.
As long as you are not conscious of your self you can live; but if you become conscious of your self you fall from one grave into another.
All your rebirths could ultimately make you sick.
The Buddha therefore finally gave up on rebirth, for he had had enough of crawling through all human and animal forms.
After all the rebirths you still remain the lion crawling on the earth, the XAMAIAEQN [Chameleon], a caricature, one prone to changing colors, a crawling shimmering lizard, but precisely not a lion, whose nature is related to the sun, who draws his power from within himself who does not crawl around in the protective colors of the environment, and who does not defend himself by going into hiding.
I recognized the chameleon and no longer want to crawl on the earth and change colors and be reborn; instead I want to exist from my own force, like the sun which gives light and does not suck light.
That belongs to the earth. I recall my solar nature and would like to rush to my rising.
But ruins stand in my way They say: “With regard to men you should be this or that.”
My chameleonesque skin shudders.
They obtrude upon me and want to color me.
But that should no longer be.
Neither good nor evil shall be my masters. I push them aside, the laughable survivors, and go on my way again, which leads me to the East.
The quarreling powers that for so long stood between me and myself lie behind me. ~Carl Jung, The Red Book, Page 277
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