As a kid, I was drawn to Star Trek. Not just the spaceships or the futuristic settings, but the characters. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy weren’t just role models or even heroes to me—they represented something deeper. It wasn’t until much later that I realized how much they mirrored the different parts of myself, and how the dynamics between them played out in the internal dialogues I’d often find myself having.
Looking back, I can see how this early fascination with Star Trek laid the groundwork for something I would come to appreciate much more deeply as I grew older—Jungian psychology. At first, the depth of Jung’s ideas was daunting. It felt like something just out of reach—complex, multifaceted, and, at times, overwhelming. But as I started to grasp the idea of archetypes, I began to see how they weren’t just abstract concepts—they were alive in me, in the characters I loved, and in the conflicts I felt within myself. But there’s a catch: Jung often contradicts himself, or at least seems to. He writes in ways that can feel paradoxical—embracing the importance of both the conscious and unconscious, and sometimes leaning into opposing ideas. These contradictions are part of what makes Jung so fascinating, but also what makes him hard to fully understand. And as with most paradoxes, difficult to reconcile.
Spock’s cold logic, McCoy’s passionate empathy, and Kirk’s leadership—they weren’t just characters in a show; they were representations of these archetypal forces, all vying for attention and integration. Jung’s idea of individuation—the process of integrating these contrasting parts of the self—became something that resonated deeply. It was as if Star Trek had already shown me the way, even if I didn’t have the language for it at the time.
But here’s where it gets thorny: As much as Jung’s exploration of the psyche is fascinating, it’s easy to get lost in the weeds. One can spend endless time analyzing these archetypes, tracing their paths through the characters and our own lives, without ever really putting any of it into practice. And while introspection is important—vital, even—it’s never enough to simply explore for the sake of exploring. It’s in the doing, or the exploration of the external if you will, where real transformation happens.
And this is where the balance lies: Wonder, yes, but also action—something Star Trek also captures well. For all the self-reflection it’s important to remember that change, true transformation, requires more than just thought. Sometimes we act, and then learn, or even change, as a result of that action. The lessons from Star Trek, the insights from Jung—they aren’t meant to remain in the realm of theory. It’s imperative to live them, integrating them into the choices we make, relationships we build, and the actions we take.
mcmorristherapy.com 