You know how sometimes a story puts your mind in a headlock and will not let go? You’re stuck in a loop—maybe you’re the failure who can never get it right, or the one who has to be strong for everyone else. Even when part of you knows it’s not the whole story, it feels so freakin’ true in the moment.
That, my friend, is archetypal energy at work.
A quick note before we get into archetypes: Stick around to the end, and I’ll tell you about a thing I had so. much. fun. making the other day. 🤓
Archetypes are more than universal figures, like the ones populating the tarot’s Major Arcana—Death, the High Priestess, the Magician, etc.
They’re both organizing principles + incredibly juiced-up energy sources.
Each archetype offers a template for experiencing the messiness of reality. It’s like slipping on tinted glasses that say, Reality looks like this.
For instance:
- The Hunger archetype groans, “Nothing is ever enough.”
- Pop on a pair of Trickster glasses, and suddenly everything’s topsy-turvy.
- The Lover croons, “Connection is everything.”
Why are they so powerful tho?
Archetypes are plugged into the collective unconscious, the vast, energetic reservoir we all share. It’s literally impossible for our tiny egos to grok how expansive the collective unconscious is, but that realm? It’s home base for the archetypes.
When a story (such as, “If I don’t do it, no one will”) aligns with an archetype, it gets amplified by that endless well of energy.
Sometimes we get a little taste, an archetypal amuse-bouche if you will—a tingle of meaning or inspiration. Other times, our poor ego gets firehosed, and that energy blast makes a story feel immutably, universally correct.
Here’s the thing:
Archetypes are deeply entwined with meaning for reasons we don’t have space to get into here. Suffice it to say, adding archetypal energy to a story makes it feel more significant to our psyche.
That’s why we can read a story about someone totally different from ourselves, living through things we’ve never experienced, yet feel a profound resonance. Archetypal patterns light up the psyche like a Christmas tree.
These stories can flood life with meaning, purpose, even ecstasy. But they can also overwhelm us, making a narrative feel like absolute truth—even when it’s skewed, incomplete, or flat out wrong.
Enter: Complexes.
Picture your mind as a swimming pool, your conscious self (the ego) bobbing along at the surface, enjoying a saucy little beach read. Beneath the surface lie complexes—psychic galaxies made of images, memories, and ideas, all held together by what Jung called a feeling-tone.
When a complex gets triggered, it surges upward:
Your ego gets pulled underwater.
An archetypal story floods your reality.
You know this is how life is—and woe to anyone who tells you otherwise.
At the heart of every complex lies an archetype, and depending on how strongly a complex is activated (or “constellated,” in Jung-speak), that archetypal story might whisper…or bellow until your eardrums ring.
The good news?
When we recognize these patterns we can work with this energy (to power a spell, perhaps?), rather than being swept away by it.
That’s exactly what I explore in All the Feels: The Inner Architecture of Spellwork—specifically, how these archetypal stories shape the success (or misfires) of your spells.
Sound like your cup of magical tea?
P.S. I had so much fun creating a thing! 🤓
It’s part personality quiz, part story quest, all set in my Twin Flames universe. You’ll follow along with Arcanus, a novice of the Cloaked Ones, helping him choose grimoires to study, magical potions to drink, and more.
Your choices reveal which real-life magical skill is calling to you right now—plus, you’ll get step-by-step instructions (and a hand-painted sigil!) to help you cultivate it.
