Carl Jung and the I Ching: A tool, not a belief system

Marine
Apr 8
3 min read

Jung wasn’t looking for magic

Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung wasn’t trying to become a mystic. He was a scientist with range—a thinker who understood that not everything important can be measured, and not everything irrational is meaningless. When he discovered the I Ching, it wasn’t because he was looking for an oracle. He was looking for a tool.

This ancient Chinese text didn’t tell the future. What it did do was reflect the present. With its layered symbols and ancient structure, the I Ching let him track the movement of the unconscious in real time. For Jung, that was enough.

The I Ching works like a Dream

Jung was fascinated by how the unconscious reveals itself—not directly, but in symbols. That’s how dreams speak, and that’s how the I Ching works. You ask a question, cast the hexagram, and what you get isn’t an answer—it’s a mirror.

The text doesn’t hand you truth on a plate. It makes you see. That process—where you recognize something you didn’t know you knew—is what Jung spent his life chasing. In his words:

“The I Ching does not offer itself with proofs and results; it does not vaunt itself, nor is it easy to approach... It is a book that one reads with the heart.”

That’s the key. The I Ching doesn’t function logically. It speaks in the language of the unconscious. And for Jung, that made it one of the most psychologically honest tools he had.

Synchronicity wasn’t just a theory—It was a discovery

One of Jung’s most important ideas—synchronicity— was sparked directly by his experience with the I Ching. He saw that the hexagrams people received often matched their inner state, or seemed uncannily relevant to the situation. Not because there was a cause-and-effect relationship, but because the moment was charged with meaning.

He called that “an acausal connecting principle.” A way the inner and outer worlds aligned without explanation—but with impact.

The Beatles got it too

Fun fact: Jung isn’t the only one who tuned into the weird usefulness of synchronicity. George Harrison used the idea to write While My Guitar Gently Weeps.

While my guitar gently weeps - cover — Cover "While my guitar gently weeps"

He described the process like this: he thought of the I Ching, and opened a random book, read the first phrase he saw—“gently weeps”—and let that line become the seed for the entire song. He didn’t overthink it. He followed the moment.

“I was thinking about the concept of everything being relative to everything else, as it is in the I Ching. So I decided to write a song based on the first thing I saw when I opened a random book.”

That’s classic synchronicity. You’re not looking for control—you’re looking for connection. Something true, even if you can’t explain why.

The foreword that opened the door

In 1949, Jung wrote the introduction to Richard Wilhelm’s translation of the I Ching. That one move brought the book out of the spiritual margins and into the intellectual mainstream.

I Ching - the Richard Wilhelm translation — The "I Ching" - Richard Wilhelm translation

He didn’t claim it was a scientific instrument. He just said, plainly: this book works, but not in the way Western minds are trained to expect. It reflects the psyche, not the world.

Why It Still Matters

We’re living in a hyper-rational world, but we’re not rational creatures. We’re pattern-seeking animals who dream, doubt, get stuck, and need help seeing ourselves clearly.

The I Ching doesn’t tell you what to do. It shows you where you are.

And for Jung —and maybe for you— that’s the most honest place to begin.