I went to the opening night lecture and premier of C.G. Jung’s Red Book a couple of weeks ago and have not stopped thinking about the man and his work since.

The Red Book is a large, red, leather-bound journal Jung laboriously assembled over the course of his adult life. The journaling and sketches happened primarily between the years 1914–1916, but the transcription of his active imaginations into an ornate calligraphic script and illustrations of eastern-inspired mandalas, took a lifetime for him to complete. Jung poured everything he had–consciously and unconsciously–into the Red Book. It is a masterpiece: one man’s attempt to understand Transformation (Enlightenment? Transcendence?) from a psychological, not merely spiritual, point of view. And yet, when he was done, he ended the work with this postscript; “I did this as well as I could,” a neat piece of humility in the face of the enormity of the effort.

Jung’s family kept the book private for nearly 100 years, though during his lifetime, Jung left it open in his office and often referred patients to its passages and paintings. Now, for the first time, it is being published in its entirety. The night I saw it the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Many Jungians have been waiting their lives for this. Among that crowd the buzz was that this book may be the most important piece of scholarly work (Esoterica? Religious text? Psychological manifesto?) released in generations. It could change our understanding of man’s place in the world. It will definitely underscore and give further definition to Jung’s major contribution to modern psychology–the idea of the collective unconscious.

In my opinion, it is no accident that this book has surfaced now. It’s up to us to figure out how to use the information contained within. I have some ideas; a few of which are personal, but a few I plan to explore openly with friends and clients:

The collective unconscious versus the individual’s experience–In research I run across this all the time: there are trends, words, memes that surface from interview to interview. The patterns are like a tapestry weaving the lives, hopes, and fears of the subjects together even when they are geographically and psychographically dispersed. These patterns are important because they bring efficiency to the act of communication.

What’s conscious and what’s…not

–I’ve been bothered for a while by the shortcomings of the typical ethnographic interview. I am good at formulating questions and fashioning scenarios that take the subject beyond the surface of their perception, but even so you can’t ask a person to tell you what they don’t know about themselves. Not sure how to solve this one…yet.

The limitations of language

in our ability to truly communicate–Jung struggled with finding a language to describe his experiences beyond the realm of the recognizable. The expert I heard discuss the Red Book said many passages read like nonsense, contain sentence fragments, and intentional misuse of words. Jung was literally at a loss for words, and he was a man quite used to helping patients articulate such esoteric experiences as dreams and fantasies. Words dominate our cultural landscape and social interactions. We talk to each other constantly, but do we really know what the other is saying? The more attention I pay to this the more I see how critical it is, in my position as a translator–a bridge between the commercial entity and the client or customer–to be sure both parties are saying what they mean to say and hearing what they’re meant to be heard. So that we may at least say at the end of our conversation, as Jung did, “I did this as well as I could.”

If you find yourself in NYC before January 25, 2010, go see .

I had a dream last night that will change the direction of my business altogether.

In the dream, a man who had previously been a good-for-nothing Romeo appeared after a number of years to make amends with a former girlfriend. The change in him was remarkable to the woman and all of her friends. Where he had previously been obsessed with shallow good times and empty living, he was now grounded, calm, genuinely happy, and sure of his intentions. They marveled. They speculated about the catalyst. It was clear that his path was different.
They asked him questions, “Are you a doctor?”

“Have you been traveling?”

“Did you lose something or someone dear to you?”

His response was this: “I am in advertising.”

He explained: Years ago, a giant corporation had decided to target the citizens of his small town. The corporation erected an enormous billboard on the hillside above the town. It was the typical fare: flashy graphics, catchy tagline, and provocative product shots. The effect on the town was instantaneous. People felt assaulted by the message, manipulated despite their resistance. Some of them bought the product. Others hated them for doing so and started stockpiling products from the corporation’s main competitor.

The man decided to take action. He inspired several friends to contribute enough money to purchase the rights to the billboard out from under the corporation. They devised a message of positivity and displayed it promptly. As the message hovering over the town changed, so did the attitude of the people in the town. The man was amazed at the power the message had to influence the energy of the town and the attitudes of the people in it. He realized that he could use the most massively motivating medium of all, advertising, to do good. He started an advertising agency.

Wake up. 4:15am.

Yes, this story is ridiculous. It’s a dream. But, when I woke I felt inspired. This is what I was meant to do: Help positive companies break through with meaningful messages.

I thought about my own journey. I got into advertising to express creativity. I justified my role in advertising by telling myself I was helping companies create more relevant messages, messages that would not be disruptive, but helpful. I ultimately left an advertising agency because I found myself working for brands, products, and companies I did not believe in.

In 2006 I started Skyelab in order to work with companies I can believe in, companies that have something positive to bring to the world. I am re-committed to this goal.

Over the next few weeks, I will be reorganizing my site, my focus, my fee structure, everything about Skyelab, to clearly articulate the new mission of this company. I will only work with partners I believe in and we will only create advertising and marketing that is helpful.

Stay tuned. Over the next few weeks I will be posting my new guidelines for client partnership, and my criteria for creating meaningful messaging. If this is intriguing to you, keep reading, contact me, let me know what you think. If not, so be it. There are plenty of us out there looking to make a difference. I am not worried about the ones who aren’t.

Schuyler