Navigating the Depths of Your Own Abyss

Article | Self-acceptance

The abyss is a concept with many faces. There is the psychic abyss, where the light of our consciousness begins to fade. There is the abyss of the world, where a person can lose themselves without even realizing it. And there is the primary abyss of the ocean, a metaphorical chasm that seems to hold all our experience and understanding. It's here, at this profound edge, that the bright light of consciousness meets the impenetrable darkness of the unknown. This boundary marks the limits of our rational thought and the true beginning of Mystery.

The abyss is a deep kingdom where heroes, thinkers, and mystics have taken their final, most crucial steps. Throughout history, it has whispered to philosophers and challenged the bravest explorers of the human spirit. In psychology, it is the deep well of the unconscious, teeming with unexplored territories of the psyche. For existentialists, it represents the ultimate confrontation with meaninglessness. In mythology, it is the great chasm that must be crossed to dissolve the ego and unite the seeker with the divine. This is an exploration of that abyss, a contemplation that promises no easy answers but offers a chance to face the very essence of our existence.

The Philosopher’s Gaze

Beyond our world lies an infinite void that has no physical form—a space that can be filled, but is fundamentally empty. The void is a philosophical idea of non-being that we can somehow perceive, and it touches on many areas of metaphysics. It's a difficult concept to grasp and describe, which is why ideas of the void and the abyss are so important in art, science, and philosophical discussions about the nature of being human.

The abyss often symbolizes an existential emptiness. The void isn't just the absence of something; it’s a space where a person confronts the potential meaninglessness of life. Søren Kierkegaard, often called the father of existentialism, described the despair that arises when hope is lost and everything drowns in indifference. His response to this existential emptiness was the idea of a "leap of faith." A person must make a conscious choice to leap. This faith isn't necessarily religious; it represents a profound commitment to a set of personal beliefs and values that give one's life meaning. A leap into the abyss is a personal test where one must accept their uniqueness and the heavy burden of choice.

This existential challenge isn't about finding universal truths, but about discovering what is truly important for you. This process of self-discovery often requires confronting our deepest fears and insecurities. The leap of faith is a leap beyond logic, which can never fully capture the complexity of human existence.

This brings us to Friedrich Nietzsche's famous warning: "He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." This reflects the two-sided nature of confronting the void. The phrase suggests that if a person constantly battles a certain evil, they might begin to see that evil as a tool they can use for their own ends. The struggle itself changes a person's consciousness, and in the end, you can become the very thing you fought against. Observation is an action. If you show interest in some form of darkness, that darkness can begin to take an interest in you.

The Primordial Chasm of Myth

Mythology across the world is filled with images of the abyss as a place of both creation and damnation.

  • In ancient Greek mythology, Tartarus is the deepest abyss, located far beneath the kingdom of Hades. It was here that Zeus cast down the Titans. This dark void is said to be as far from the surface of the earth as the sky is from the earth—a bronze anvil would fall for nine days to reach its bottom.
  • In Scandinavian mythology, Ginnungagap is the primordial, empty space that existed between the realms of ice (Niflheim) and fire (Muspelheim). It was from this vast nothingness that the world first began.
  • The Book of Genesis begins with a similar concept: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void... and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters." The Hebrew word for this deep void, Tehom, means abyss. This word is also linguistically related to Tiamat, the name of the Babylonian goddess of creation. She was the female personification of the primeval ocean of chaos—the salty waters from which everything, including the gods themselves, was born. In this mythology, the world begins from the abyss, as the earth is formed from the body of Tiamat. This image of a chaotic, divine feminine force is both terrifying and beautiful, embodying the dual nature of the abyss itself.

Literary Portals to the Unknown

Literature uses the abyss to symbolize the great unknown, the hidden territories of the human psyche, and the existential vacuum that characters—and readers—must face. This motif allows for explorations of darkness, mystery, and horror, forcing characters to confront their fears and the limits of human knowledge.

In Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness," the journey into the African Congo is a backdrop for a harrowing exploration of the human soul. The narrative pulls us into the heart of colonialism and the existential horror of the unknown, both external and internal. The character Kurtz, isolated in the jungle, loses his mind and gives in to his primal instincts. The wilderness, Conrad writes, "whispered to him things about himself which he did not know," and this whisper found a terrifying echo in the void within his soul.

In Leonid Andreev's story "The Abyss," a young student, Neville, is walking with his beloved, Zoe, when they get lost as darkness falls. They are attacked by three men in the woods. Neville is beaten unconscious and left in a pit while the men chase and assault the girl. When he comes to his senses, he finds her barely alive. In a state of complete breakdown, he begins to kiss her and whisper words of love, and in that moment, "the black abyss swallowed him."

No one explored the abyss quite like H. P. Lovecraft, who filled it with a unique kind of cosmic horror. For Lovecraft, the universe is not only indifferent to humanity but is also fundamentally incomprehensible and hostile. His stories feature heroes who, through scientific research or sheer curiosity, stumble upon ancient, extraterrestrial beings. These encounters lead to a horrifying revelation: everything we thought was true about the universe is just a thin veil over a much darker, more sinister reality. Physical places in his stories—like the sunken city where Cthulhu slumbers—are gateways into the abyss that violate the known laws of physics. The abyss in Lovecraft is tied to concepts like non-Euclidean geometry and other dimensions, metaphors for the absolute limits of human knowledge. His heroes often pay for their curiosity with their sanity, as their minds shatter against a reality they cannot comprehend.

The Buddhist concept of the void is a central theme in Viktor Pelevin's novel "Chapaev and the Void." The hero, a poet named Peter, suffers from a split personality, living in two worlds at once: a psychiatric hospital and a civil war where he fights alongside a commander named Chapayev. Peter believes the revolutionary world is real, but Chapayev, presented as a bodhisattva (an enlightened being), tries to convince him that both worlds are unreal. Buddhists teach that time is an illusion; there is only the present moment, "now." The void, or Śūnyatā, doesn't mean that nothing exists. It means that things do not exist in the way our suffering ego perceives them. To understand the void is to let go of all thoughts, ideas, and pain. As Buddhists say, "the void gives birth to love... the void is joy and fullness." It shows us the absence of a split between subject and object. There is no form without the void, and no void without form. Through enlightenment and a complete absence of thought, one can reach Nirvana—a state of nothing, no one, and nowhere.

Charting the Psyche's Depths

The abyss is not just an external concept; it lies within each of us. Carl Jung made significant contributions to exploring these depths with his concept of the collective unconscious, a vast reservoir of archetypes and psychic energy that remains largely unexplored by our conscious minds. These archetypes—such as the Persona, the Anima/Animus, and the Self—are universal symbols inherited from our collective human past that shape our behavior.

However, it is the Shadow archetype that is most closely related to the abyss. The Shadow contains the dark aspects of our personality—the parts of ourselves we deny or reject because they don't fit our conscious self-image. The journey into our personal abyss becomes a turning point in the search for wholeness. It requires a confrontation with the Shadow, a meeting with those repressed or ignored parts of ourselves. This is not for the faint of heart, as it involves digging into the deepest layers of our psyche, where unresolved conflicts, fears, and desires are hidden.

Ignoring the Shadow can lead to imbalance, causing us to project our unacceptable qualities onto others. Conversely, recognizing and integrating our Shadow allows us to achieve a more complete understanding of ourselves, leading to greater empathy and a more authentic life.

Spiritual Crises and Transformations

The 16th-century mystic John of the Cross introduced the term "Dark Night of the Soul." This is a metaphor for periods of spiritual devastation that come before a profound renewal. This "Dark Night" represents a transition where the soul feels a deep sense of abandonment and despair, a spiritual crisis that paradoxically holds the potential for transformation. This abyss is not a punishment but a necessary emptiness that challenges the soul to let go of old identities and beliefs to make room for a more direct divine experience.

This idea is not unique to Christian mysticism. In Hinduism, the concept of maya, or "illusion," points to the need to see beyond the superficial world. Maya is an illusion not because it isn't real, but because it is fleeting and ever-changing. The abyss, in this sense, is a state where all things exist potentially but are devoid of meaning because they lack spiritual reality.

In occult traditions, such as those outlined by Aleister Crowley, "Crossing the Abyss" is a pivotal and dangerous stage of spiritual development. It is a confrontation with the unknown where logic and reason fail. The abyss is guarded by a demon named Choronzon, who symbolizes the aspects of our consciousness that resist spiritual ascent. Choronzon's main attribute is dispersion; he represents the chaos and formlessness that precede creation. The battle with Choronzon is a battle to overcome one's deepest fears, self-doubts, and inner chaos to achieve a unified will.

The Modern Void

The existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre saw the void as a given. A person creates their own life and essence, and outside of that, there is nothing. The awareness of this void causes feelings of anxiety, abandonment, and despair. The feeling of abandonment comes from the realization that God does not exist. If there is no God, then a person is abandoned, with nothing to lean on. There are no excuses, no pre-ordained values, and no hope for forgiveness from higher powers. You must answer not to God, but to your own conscience.

Viktor Frankl, on the other hand, described the existential vacuum as the experience of the abyss that forms when a person rejects life's goals and unique meanings. Its main symptoms are boredom and apathy. Frankl believed this happens because, unlike animals, we are no longer told by instinct what we must do, and modern society no longer gives us traditions that tell us what we should do. Often, a person doesn't even know what they want to do.

So, what's the difference? For Sartre, the void is an inevitable reality of being human. For Frankl, the existential vacuum is situational; it arises from a failure to find meaning, and it can be overcome. For Sartre, life is meaningless until we give it meaning. For Frankl, life has an inherent meaning that each person can discover and strengthen through their actions. The challenge, then, is to move from a state of emptiness toward a life fulfilled with purpose and value.

References

  • Jung, C. G., von Franz, M.-L., Henderson, J. L., Jacobi, J., & Jaffé, A. (1964). Man and His Symbols. Dell Publishing.

    This book, conceived and edited by Jung shortly before his death, serves as an accessible introduction to his theories. The first section, "Approaching the Unconscious," written by Jung himself, provides a clear explanation of dreams, symbols, and archetypes, including the concept of the Shadow as the hidden, darker side of our personality that we must confront for personal growth.

  • Kaufmann, W. (Ed.). (1975). Existentialism from Dostoevsky to Sartre. Meridian Books.

    This is a foundational anthology of existentialist thought. Kaufmann's introductions to the sections on Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and Sartre are particularly useful. They provide context for understanding key concepts discussed in the article, such as Kierkegaard's "leap of faith," Nietzsche's confrontation with the abyss, and Sartre's ideas on freedom, abandonment, and the void.

  • Lovecraft, H. P. (2005). "The Call of Cthulhu." In The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories. Penguin Classics.

    This story is a quintessential example of Lovecraft's cosmic horror. It directly illustrates the themes of humanity's fragile place in an indifferent universe, the limits of human knowledge, and the maddening horror that results from encountering the "abyss" of cosmic reality. The narrative structure, pieced together from journals and reports, reinforces the idea of grappling with a truth too vast and terrible to be understood directly.