According to Carl Jung, the human mind comprises three areas: consciousness; the personal unconscious, containing mainly memories; and the collective unconscious, or "objective psyche," whose contents are common to all of us. The contents of the collective unconscious are the autonomous complexes Jung called archetypes, which I like to think of as organs of the psyche. Archetypes and bodily organs are alike in that each one has a unique function, but they differ in that archetypes have no physical structure. And there are as many psychical organs (or archetypes) as there are conceivable things in the universe. Archetypes are complexes that enable us to understand and give meaning to our experiences.

            For example, there is the inner complex - the Complainer -- that focuses on painful memories and experiences. There is another part - the Critic -- that criticizes whatever we do, and may even set things up so that there is something to criticize. I am reminded of the Jewish mother in Wylie's Generation of Vipers who gave her son a gift of two sweaters, and when he wore one of them at their next visit, she asked, "What? You don't like the other one?" These complexes can pop in at any time, unexpected and unbidden. But so can those beneficial inner voices that give us helpful and supportive feedback, such as, "I like that; it makes me feel good," "Remember how you did that; you were effective and that approach can be helpful in the future," and "Hey, you're tired. You can be at one with nature and treat yourself well: lie down and rest!"

            Whatever we can imagine, or experience in any way, implies an opposite. Just as "down" must have an "up," to give either of them meaning, and "good" is understood only when we contrast it with "bad," every other describable concept, idea, or judgment can only be meaningful when weighed against its opposite. All the opposites reside in us in some form, either in consciousness or in the unconscious. For example, as much as we know about giving birth - e.g., the creation of a baby, a new plan, a novel, or an innovative electronic device -- we also know about killing - e.g., such as stepping on an ant, dumping a plan, destroying a first draft of a novel, ending a friendship, or discarding an inefficient, ineffective, or no longer useful household object. Within ourselves we have a Guide and a Critic, a Lover and a Despiser, Strength and Weakness, Hope and Hopelessness, and as many other opposites as we can conceive.

            All of these - and more - lie within the unconscious. Most of the time, the entire unconscious is active within us, but we are generally unaware of that activity. In that sense, unconscious activity acts like radio or television transmissions. Electronically transmitted information from all over the world fills the space in which we live. We can gain access to that information only by means of technical equipment designed to transform it into visual and auditory signals. These signals, in turn, reach our senses (via radio stations or television channels) by means of tuners. So the Tuner, as a psychological concept, is an image of the way in which we can access what is going on in the unconscious.

            The primary issue of this essay lies in the following question: On what basis do we tune in to particular inner ideas or messages and not to others? For example, why would a job seeker insist on tuning in to the thought, "They didn't like me; they rejected me," rather than aver, "I am a totally acceptable person; I must not have the skills they need" or the more neutral, simple fact, "I didn't get the job; that's just how it is"? There must be an explicable reason that a person would tune in to the inner Critic admonishing, "They didn't like you (who would?); of course they rejected you," rather than hear the supportive parent's, "You are a totally acceptable person; as they mentioned, you just don't have the skills they need," or the neutral Witness commenting on the observation, "You didn't get the job." The last two comments are likely to be followed by the inner Hero declaring, "We'll try again elsewhere."

            When we refer to ourselves as "I", "me" or "myself," to what part of ourselves are we referring?" It is, of course, the archetype that has control of the ego at that moment. Over time, however, that changes. When we are interacting with a child, we are often quite likely to be functioning out of the mother, father, teacher, or child part of our psyches, and we may switch from one to another quickly and frequently. In any single instant, however, I propose that the ego is identified with a single complex. At times there seems to be either an amalgam of two or more complexes or a rapid switching between two or more of them. At this moment, for example, as I reflect on this issue, it appears that "I" am an amalgam of what the Eastern philosophers call the Witness, which observes what is going on, plus the Philosopher-Scientist archetype, which studies, observes, and searches for "truth," and the inner Hero, which seeks to manifest and support the Self (one's wholeness). In this example, the ego seems to be affected either by an amalgam of the three, or the three archetypes alternately connect with the ego, switching from one to the other very rapidly. This amalgam or switching process enables introspection, reflection, and understanding to occur.

            Considering that all the complexes within us are autonomously functioning all the time, to which does the ego attend at any particular instant? (Jung defines the ego as the center or fovea of consciousness.) Can we choose which archetype governs at any time? If not, what law or principle determines which one takes over the ego? It is my contention that an archetype operates through and upon the human ego each moment in our lives. Sometimes, it seems that the ego is possessed or held captive by a complex; at other times, it seems as if one (whatever part has hold of the ego at the moment) can call upon another complex either to take over the ego, so to speak, or for intercourse, such as through inner dialogue -- what Jung calls "active imagination."

            Jung described active imagination as an auseinandersetzung, i.e., a vigorous internal confrontation. In Active imagination, an exploring ego energetically confronts, questions, listens to and responds to another part of ourselves - a part that has probably made itself known to us in a dream or as a spontaneously appearing waking image. The value of dialoguing with an identified inner complex - questioning it about its nature, motivations and attitudes - is that we can become intimately familiar with it. Familiarity brings forth awareness of the nature of the archetypal complex so that we can choose when to tune in to it and how to relate to it. We can call upon the playful inner Child when a situation calls for playfulness, or we can call upon the positive Mother complex to comfort the hurt Child when it feels neglected or rejected. We can call upon or welcome the inner constructive Father that can guide us in a difficult situation, or we can recognize the generally irrelevant judgmental attack by the inner Critic. There are two primary ways in which we can become intimately familiar with a complex: (1) through extensive dialogues with it and (2) through reflecting upon our responses and experiences after withdrawing from having identified with that complex.

            All conceivable comments and evaluations simultaneously exist somewhere within us. Examples are, "You should never have been born," "You are one of God's wonderful gifts to humanity," "I hate you!" "I love you!" "I don't want anything to do with you; you are worthless," "You are precious to me," "You did that all wrong; you can't do anything right," "If you want to improve your performance, one way is to find a knowledgeable teacher and practice developing the skill," "You broke the rules; you're BAD," "No matter what you do, there are consequences; we all must learn how to live with the consequences of our actions," and as many other inner statements as we can imagine and have heard. The tuner can transmit inner statements and judgments in response to both past and present occurrences. When we review or reflect on a prior action, feeling, intention, dream, etc., the inner tuner becomes filled with feelings and commentaries regarding what we did or experienced in the past. The same thing happens while we are responding in the present moment. Tuning in to a particular attitude or reaction influences the path we subsequently pursue and affects the outcome of our actions. For example, if the inner Destructive Mother convinces the Child that s/he is utterly worthless and/or the Critic stimulates a sufficient amount of guilt in the Child that has a strong hold on the ego, one is likely to give up and go into a depression. Tuning in to the positive, supportive Parents or the Hero is likely to arouse hope and perseverance.

            Paradoxically, it is the influence of these archetypes that determines which unconscious 'channel' we tune into! If the Critic (Destructive Father) had his way, we would select his channel all the time, resulting ultimately in our believing that we are, at best, incurable bumbling idiots who cannot do anything correctly and probably should just commit suicide. If the Witch had her way, we would hear her constantly telling us that the future is utterly bleak and offers only pain and death, and our future would probably hold the same fate as tuning in to the Critic. On the other hand, if we are familiar with the constructive Parents' messages, we are likely to tune in to their supportive, helpful comments, feel hopeful, and consequently seek solutions that are likely to resolve our problems.

            The implication here seems to be that we are more likely to tune in to those parts of ourselves with whom we have become most familiar, generally through early learning and conditioning. We often hang on to the familiar even when it causes us pain or is ineffective. Codependent behavior is like that; people who are codependent have learned to become so attentive to others' needs, they neglect their own. On the other hand, constructive conditioning by parents and teachers can encourage a child to lead a life of self-fulfillment. I recall reading a newspaper article quoting answers by successful businesswomen to the question, "To what do you attribute your success?" Uniformly, they included comments about how their mothers respected and praised them, complimented them for their winning personalities and achievements, and constantly encouraged them. They were accustomed to being supported in their endeavors, so that is the kind of inner message they tended to tune in to. Those of us who were ignored or put down throughout childhood tend to set our tuners on channels where the messages keep pulling us down.

            Can we change that? Of course! But doing so can mean a self-examination that can be very painful, especially for the inner Child. For one thing, we must learn to become comfortable with Doubt. Like the external child, the undeveloped, narcissistic inner Child wants a permanent state of security, certainty, constancy, dependability, and reliability. If those needs are threatened, the child becomes susceptible to even greater threats in the form of disquieting attacks from the unconscious. For example, consider the scenario where a man is on a business trip, it is late night, and he calls home to talk with his wife. The telephone rings, but there is no answer. His inner radio goes on and he tunes in to the station where the 'announcer' calls you a cuckold and says, "She's out with another man and will end up having sex with him." If the listener has no access to Doubt, he becomes a prisoner of the source of that conclusion. However, if we can remember to tune in to Doubt, we will be reminded that other 'stations' or 'channels' are available for us to tune in on. They can bring us such rational and caring messages as: "You may have dialed the wrong number; try again," "She may have turned off the telephone in the bedroom; she's probably asleep," "She may be visiting a friend or family member," "She may be at the all-night market shopping," and especially, "If you dialed the correct number, you can ask her why you weren't able to reach her by phone tonight. Until then, any imagined reason is simply speculation." Such 'stations'/'channels' exist in all of us all the time.

            Another route leading to being able to change our propensity to tune in to what is familiar has to do with sympathy for the inner Child's pain. When the Child's needs are threatened, when it feels attacked, or when it is neglected, the Child's feelings are bruised. When that happens, the child often attacks in retaliation or misbehaves or otherwise gives us trouble. Our tendency, often, is to ignore, hate, or try to beat the child into submission, to get rid of the discomfort the Child is producing. Outwardly, we may withdraw from or act cruelly toward others who may have aroused the Child's feeling victimized. At least as important as doubt is an awareness of and compassion for the inner Child's pain. The tendency to feel victimized (i.e., to identify with the victimized Child) is learned in childhood. When we can tune in to the loving, compassionate inner Parents who, through words, feeling, and actions, comfort the hurting child, healing takes place. The Positive Mother offers such supportive messages as, "I love you. Put your head on my breast and cry, if you feel like it; I shall hold you. You are precious to me. I'll always be here for you through thick and thin." The Positive Father might say, "I love you, and I want to understand your suffering. I know you can find a constructive solution. No matter what problem arises, I shall be here for you and help guide you. We will work on it together."

            Identification with an archetypal complex has two possible consequences. On the one hand, if we can eventually separate from it, we have the opportunity to reflect upon what went on during the identification. By doing that, we can gain an intimate knowledge of the way that complex functions and thereby expand our consciousness. On the other hand, we can remain stuck in the identification. When that happens, we have no ability to make choices. We are then bound by the nature of that archetype to act and experience in very specific ways. Identification restricts the set of 'stations'/'channels' we can tune in to, severely limiting reflection. Consequently, the Witness has no access to the ego.

            Who or what operates the Inner Tuner? At first thought, it appears that the operator could be any part of us. Consciousness enables us to choose, from among all the complexes with which we are familiar, the one that the ego connects with at any particular moment. And when awareness exists, the ego can tune in to other parts of the personality, no matter which complex is attached to the ego. However, there seems to be one characteristic or aspect of consciousness that does all the tuning, viz., the Witness: that observing part of us which merely focuses consciousness on facts as it perceives them. The Witness examines our experiences 'objectively', without feeling or judgment. When the Witness is available to us, it enables separation from the other archetypal complexes that tend to attach themselves to the ego. Consequently, we can increase our familiarity with them and be freer to use the Tuner consciously.

            In summary, the Inner Tuner is an image for a means of accessing unconscious activity. Conscious familiarity with archetypal complexes, operating autonomously within us, brings recognition of their characteristics and how they can help or hinder us in our daily lives. With that awareness, and the maintenance of flexibility through self-acceptance, we have the opportunity to choose which 'stations'/'channels' (unconscious contents) we tune in to for help, advice, or guidance when we need it. The Inner Tuner is generally available and turned on. Our challenge: How can we utilize it to optimize our quality of life?