Jung and Nietzsche: The Secret and Wisdom of Your Inner Serpent
Instinctive wisdom.
In this article, we’ll explore one of the symbols most widely used by religions across the world.
It’s also a recurring image in dreams: the serpent.
As we know, in Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra, the prophet Zarathustra has two animal companions: the eagle and the serpent.
The eagle symbolizes elevation.
It represents our highest values, the instinctive human drive to grow, transcend, raise consciousness, and strive for self-overcoming.
The serpent represents the instinctual, the earthly, and the immanent aspects of life.
But this chapter does not refer to that serpent; it speaks instead of a viper that bites Zarathustra on the neck while he sleeps under a fig tree.
Nietzsche writes:
“One day Zarathustra had fallen asleep under a fig tree, because it was hot, and had placed his arms over his face. Then a viper came and bit him on the neck, so that Zarathustra woke up screaming in pain.
When he removed his arm from his face, he saw the serpent: it then recognized Zarathustra’s eyes, awkwardly turned around, and tried to leave.
‘No,’ said Zarathustra, ‘you have not yet received my thanks! You woke me in time, my path is still long.’
‘Your path is already short,’ said the viper sadly. ‘My poison kills.’
Zarathustra smiled.
‘Has a dragon ever died from a serpent’s poison?’ he said. ‘But take your poison back! You are not rich enough to give it to me.’
Then the viper coiled again around his neck and licked the wound”.¹
Analyzing this passage, Carl Jung reflects on the symbolism of the serpent:
“Whenever the symbolism of the serpent appears in dreams, it represents the lower motor centers of the brain and the spinal cord.
Our fear of serpents reveals that we are not in full harmony with these instinctual lower centers, which still pose a threat to us.
This arises from the fact that our consciousness, having the freedom of will, can deviate from the inexorable laws of nature that govern human beings, from our own laws organically embedded in the structure of the lower brain”.²
Let’s first decode some of the symbols.
Zarathustra asleep represents a state of vulnerability and rest of the ego when it is open to being overtaken by instinct.
The serpent corresponds to what Jung calls the lower instinctive centers, the most reptilian and ancient part of ourselves.
The neck is the point of connection between the head (reason) and the body (instinct). It’s a place of transition, where thought and the body meet.
The venom, then, is a metaphor for an uncontrolled instinctive force, one that can "kill" if misunderstood or excessively repressed.
The bite could symbolize the moment a deep or primal need breaks through into consciousness.
However, the viper’s bite doesn’t harm Zarathustra for one important reason that he himself names: he is a dragon, that is, a fusion of eagle and serpent.
This means the union of both instincts, the striving for transcendence and the groundedness of the earth.
The instinct does not harm him, it awakens him.
Nothing can truly harm the one who has integrated both heaven and earth within.
That’s why Zarathustra gives thanks.
The Danger of Ignoring Your Inner Serpent
Carl Jung continues by warning about the dangers of neglecting, denying, or going against this instinctive center:
“Because these centers are connected to the sympathetic nervous system, which governs the major functions of the body including digestion, hormonal secretions, liver and kidney function, and so on, a serious misalignment may disturb these systems and, in the end, lead to serious disorders in our glands or blood circulation.
A single thought could overstimulate the heart to beat faster, perhaps so strongly that a kind of heart hypertrophy could develop.
These imbalances might even result in diabetes, skin conditions, or a drop in immune defenses so significant that we’d become vulnerable to all sorts of infections. One of the most psychogenic illnesses would be angina, a heart-related condition.
Naturally, you might say I’m a psychotherapist and therefore see everything as psychological, but even internal medicine specialists recognize these facts. Many people today believe such diseases are psychogenic in origin”.
That’s why the lower nervous system is a constant threat, a sword of Damocles, and we are, and should be, instinctively cautious, always keeping a bit of fear, lest we stray too far”.³
Since, for Jung, the nervous system is in charge of the fight-or-flight response and governs automatic functions such as heart rate, digestion, and breathing, when we go against it, we’re not just opposing ourselves, but also the very mechanisms that support life, our humanity itself.
That’s why everything that occurs in the psyche, and how consciousness responds to it, doesn’t remain in the mental sphere alone. It affects the entire body.
There is no separation between psyche and soma.
For this reason, Jung emphasizes that the body’s health can be compromised when our consciousness strays too far from these instinctual roots.
Understanding this issue is crucial, as Jung considered it one of the underlying causes of Nietzsche’s mental collapse.
According to Jung, Nietzsche’s unconscious was presenting symbolic material for integration, but he lacked the tools or practices to work with it, ultimately leading him to identify with Zarathustra himself.
To identify with the archetype is to be consumed by it.
Therefore, the danger of disconnecting, suppressing, or dissociating from our instincts is not limited to psychological or moral consequences. It can lead to physical and existential breakdown.
How to Integrate Our Inner Serpent and Its Wisdom
Although Jung wrote extensively on this subject, in this chapter he puts it simply:
“When we turn back to ourselves, when we prepare to make a decision, in order to gain enough perspective we should consider the reaction of the serpent, of the lower brain centers”.⁴
Here, Jung proposes something very different from what modern consciousness tends to do. Instead of making decisions solely from rational thought or ideals, we must also consult the instinctual, the bodily, the ancient wisdom of the inner animal.
His advice calls for a radical kind of honesty and sincerity, one that comes from the deepest layers of our being.
It means going inward and listening to what the serpent within has to say, no matter how strange, dark, or pessimistic it may sound.
In deep meditation, the goal is to witness and feel everything, allowing all aspects of ourselves to express themselves, without interference.
Even if the instinctive center screams that meditation is stupid and we should leave, we simply observe and let all perspectives surface.
We may then realize, for instance, that it isn’t meditation we’re resisting, but that something urgent and vital in us is being neglected.
That’s how we gain new and valuable insights, since sometimes we think and think without arriving at clarity or inner peace.
It feels as if the mind is spinning in circles.
So to listen to the serpent is to go deeper, into that ancient intelligence that has evolved over millions of years.
Instinct is not an enemy, but an old teacher in disguise.
We could also say that to consult our serpent means not only consulting the mind, but also listening to the body, our primal emotions, and our instinctive reactions.
We must not ignore the voice of the instinctual within us, or we risk making decisions that seem right to the rational mind but go against the Self, the inner totality.
It’s not about letting instinct rule our lives, but letting it expand our vision and enrich our perspective.
In doing so, our consciousness can make far wiser choices.
Just like Zarathustra, who was awakened by the venom and realized it was exactly the right moment to continue on his path.
Let’s conclude with this paragraph from Jung:
“If we could enter the sympathetic system, we would know what sympathy really means. We would understand why the nervous system is called sympathetic.
Then we would feel ourselves in all things and would no longer feel like isolated beings, nor experience the world and life as a private, solitary experience, as we surely do, to the extent that we remain conscious individuals”.⁵
P.S. This is the final article covering Volume 1 of Jung’s seminar on Nietzsche’s Zarathustra. Thank you for joining me in this stage (or part of this stage) of the journey.
Remember: I’ve committed myself to deeply studying all of Jung’s work and also to freely sharing what I learn, so my content will always be free. But if you’d like to support my project, I’d gladly accept a coffee:
I also recommend that you read my following publications:
How to Free Yourself from the Possession of Your Anima/Animus?
Eros and Logos: How Can We Bridge the Differences Between Men and Women?
Jung: Your suffering is the cure and the greatest thing you've ever produced
Sources:
1. Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Chapter 19, “The Bite of the Adder”
2, 3, 4, 5. Notes of the Seminar Given in 1934–1939, Volume 1, Session IX, December 11, 1935 — Carl Jung’s commentary on Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra
"Raised by Wolves" is a great sci-fi show about what happens if the serpent gets ignored. I don't want to say too much because these are revealing plot points but the two seasons are worth a watch.
Listening to our inner-selves is required for one to function fully in this life, without being consumed by it.