I’ve never been a person who enjoyed hot weather, and summer in Sacramento reiterates that fact to me every year.  June in the valley is always a precursor to the extreme heat that awaits us in July and August, and I always kid myself into believing that “maybe it won't be that bad this year.”  Yes…yes it will. 

Do your best to stay out of the sun, and always remember to hydrate, even if you don’t feel thirsty!

“Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”
—Carl Gustav Jung

​

Recently, I have been contemplating this quote attributed to the famous and influential founder of analytical psychology.  I was especially interested in discovering that it seems to echo many of the truths we find in Freemasonry. 

​

Although Carl (with a “C”) Gustav Jung was not a Freemason, his grandfather, Karl (with a “K”) Gustav Jung, a prominent Swiss professor of medicine, was a prolific member of our Brotherhood.  It is unknown if the ideas and symbolism of Freemasonry were prevalent in young Carl’s life, however, it is clear that many of the philosophies espoused by him in regards to the workings of the mind are contained within our noble Craft, as evidenced by the quote above.

​

As an aphorism which is often found in Masonic circles, what is this quote trying to convey? 

It seems to capture a dominant tension of the human experience: the contrast between seeking fulfillment in our external realities versus embarking on an interior voyage of self-discovery.  The message is simple: when we search for contentment in peripheral, outward places (material success, social approval, sensory pleasures, etc.), we project our hopes, fears, and ideals onto the world around us, which allows society, circumstance, or fate to shape our identity.  Our ambitions and anxieties are magnified, and everything we hope to achieve takes on the form of dreams or fantasy: visions of what may be, often enhanced by our own desires and prejudices.

​

In contrast, being truly present in reality requires us to walk the long, rough, and winding road within ourselves, which is often beset with peril.  This path is actually the more courageous choice, as few are truly content with what they find when searching their own souls, and correcting what we find is a daunting task.  In doing so, we are forced to examine attitudes and behaviors we normally repress, inner conflicts (anger, shame, envy) that distort our perceptions. 

This journey becomes a form of internal alchemy, transforming our crude, natural impulses into refined self-knowledge, moral clarity, and a sense of purpose anchored in our deepest values.

​

Masonry guides us along this dangerous route.  Just as our operative forefathers shaped raw blocks of stone into great edifices, our speculative craft hones our moral character.  We learn to subdue our passions, removing the vices and superfluities of life which impede our eternal progress. Each degree strives to bring a deeper enlightenment to the understanding of our true selves (mirroring what Jung characterized as “awakening”) so that we may venture forth from moral darkness into the light of true and everlasting wisdom.

​

When Jung urges us to “look inside,” he echoes the Masonic call to self-examination.  Neglecting personal introspection leads only to half-formed lives: success might come, but without self-awareness, robbing us of true achievement. Conversely, the inward quest—whether framed psychologically by Jung or ritually by Freemasonry—cultivates better men. As the Traveler pieces together the fragments of his inner self, he awakens to purpose, compassion, and a sense of service that extends beyond personal ambition to the betterment of humanity.

​

In this light, Jung’s words and Masonic symbolism converge. Dreaming alone leaves us adrift; awakening through honest interior work builds a temple of character—stone by stone—where our true self may dwell, fully conscious and at peace.