Today we will once again talk about the treasure that lies within us and is guarded by a dragon.
The treasure symbolizes our highest purpose, and the dragon represents everything that prevents us from accessing that value.
The questions I propose to begin with are:
How can we fill ourselves with meaning in this society full of materialism, nihilism, and spiritual poverty? How can we receive those divine mandates from our collective unconscious and Self that fill us with purpose?
In this task, the concept of value is useful, not only as a belief or principle that guides our behavior, but as something valuable we resonate with and that brings great meaning and purpose to our lives.
Nietzsche says:
“Listen, you creators! The act of valuing itself is the treasure and jewel of all valued things.”
Carl Jung explains it:
“Well, it's true. If we understand the process of valuation as an instinct in man, as a preconscious fact in the human unconscious that produces gold, then that is the treasure.
That’s why it is always symbolically expressed as the treasure guarded by the dragon or as the precious stone, the hidden jewel in the cave, at the bottom of the sea or in the lap of the mountain, etc.
They are all symbols of the dark power in our unconscious that produces value, and to produce value means valuation.
The substance is always the same, but it is given a new value, and that new value is the treasure. That is the secret of alchemy, for example.”
Nietzsche exalts the creators of values—those individuals who not only accept what society considers valuable, but have the power to weigh what is truly valuable.
Jung agrees, but he makes an important observation: the act of valuing is natural and instinctive, not conscious.
Jung introduces an alchemical metaphor: gold as a symbol of the supreme value, the ultimate meaning, or even the Self.
The unconscious does not only contain repressed trash; it is also a creative source of meaning, the place where the true values we resonate with lie, those that fill our lives with purpose.
The treasure guarded by the dragon, the hidden jewel, the stone at the bottom of the sea… all are symbols of the value hidden deep within the psyche, waiting to be discovered.
To create, one must also destroy…
Nietzsche continues:
“It is through valuing that value appears, and without valuing, the heart of existence would be hollow. Listen, you creators!
A change of values — is a change of creators. It is always necessary to destroy in order to become a creator.”
Jung responds:
“Here the thought process becomes an enantiodromia.
Everything he said is true, with the sole exception that Nietzsche takes it as an action of consciousness, while we know that our conscious valuation means nothing.
Try it with your children or with other people and you'll see it's nonsense: it won’t work.
If we say to a child, ‘My deepest conviction is that this soup is very good,’ the child won’t think it’s very good: he won’t eat it.
When my parents told me something was very good and wonderful, I thought, ‘Not even close, I’m bored.’
‘It is always necessary to destroy in order to become a creator’ is true.
We cannot place something on a table that is already full—we must first remove things to make room for the new.
To build a house where there is an old one, we must first destroy the old one.
We must go a bit deeper and recognize that the instinct of creation is always related to something destructive.
Creation in its very essence is also destructive.”
Enantiodromia describes how, when a tendency is taken to its extreme, it ends up turning into its opposite.
It’s like a pendulum: if you push it too far in one direction, it inevitably swings back in the opposite.
For example, an excess of one quality eventually generates its opposite.
Extreme discipline could turn into a burst of rebellion.
Too much rationality might end in an emotional breakdown.
But why is this relevant here?
Nietzsche states something true—that value must be created—but he takes it so far into consciousness that he ends up in the opposite error: thinking that value is created solely by conscious will, instead of recognizing that it resides in our nature.
Jung explains that life has no inherent meaning. The human being, by weighing his own existence, fills the existential void with meaning.
By contemplating the weight of his fears, wrongdoings, and by exploring the imbalance of all the scales, he discovers what truly fulfills him and gives his life meaning: the reason for his existence.
This is how the creator breaks with the inherited values that rule his life, and gives birth to the personal ones that dwell within.
Consciousness does not create values by itself; value emerges from a deeper place, from an archetype, from the unconscious.
Which can be liberating, as it frees us from the arduous task of inventing a value system and instead demands that we rediscover ourselves in order to find our own values.
The Danger of Neglecting the Creation of Values
Jung demonstrates the negative effect this natural process can have when he continues:
“There is nothing more poisonous to the nervous system than a neglected or controlled creative impulse.
It destroys even the organic health of people.
It is dangerous because there is an extraordinary destructive quality in the creative.
Precisely because it is the deepest instinct, the deepest power in man, a power that lies beyond conscious control, and because, on the other hand, it is the function that creates the supreme value, it is extremely dangerous to interfere with it.”
Creativity and valuation cannot be consciously controlled, and repressing or interfering with that power is psychologically and physically destructive.
Since the creative instinct is vital, interfering with it—ignoring it, neglecting it, or suppressing it—is dangerous.
Jung had already said something similar about the process of individuation: going against this natural process is highly dangerous and causes the Self to manifest in a negative and terrible way.
The same applies to the process of valuation—the task of giving meaning to our lives. It is not just a treasure but also a responsibility that demands our attention.
Since it comes from deep within, it carries an archetypal force.
It is the same fire Prometheus stole from the gods, the fire of the Holy Spirit, or the “gold” of alchemy.
In deep meditation, this process can be experienced as a state in which we simply contemplate ourselves.
We do not judge, do not reflect, do not draw conclusions—we simply are and observe.
Then, with enough concentration, we see that everything within us flows toward a kind of natural order; everything begins to make sense on its own.
So Jung tells us: do not interfere with that fire, because you are extinguishing the very spark of life. And that has consequences as devastating as the loss of meaning itself.
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:
Neither Israel nor Iran: All States Are Monsters According to Jung
Carl Jung and the Nietzschean Morality That Could Transform the West
Sources:
Thus Spake Zarathustra, Friedrich Nietzsche, Part II, "On Redemption".
3. 4. Notes of the Seminar Given in 1934–1939 (session III, autumn quarter of 1935).
Really enjoyed this! The way you weave together Nietzsche and Jung makes the whole idea of “finding your treasure” intriguing. I love the reminder that the real gold is hidden deep inside, and that it’s about discovering what’s already there. I’ve always called my addiction and the parts of me that resist change “dragons,” so this metaphor really hits home for me. Thanks for making these big ideas feel approachable and meaningful.
You just handed us a treasure map drawn in myth, ash, and psychic gold. I felt the dragon stir as I read.
The tension between Nietzsche’s conscious creator and Jung’s archetypal wellspring is exactly where the fire lives. We want to declare our values like gods on Olympus, but the truth is—they declare themselves in us. We don’t make the gold. We unbury it, if we’re brave enough to face the damn dragon first.
And that line from Jung—about the poison of neglected creativity? Felt like he kicked down the monastery door and yelled at all the spiritually constipated monks to paint or perish.
Thank you for turning this inner work into a divine rebellion. You reminded me that becoming whole isn't about crafting meaning from scratch, but listening deeply enough to hear the song that’s always been singing beneath the noise.