The Cesspit of Psychological Training. A Dream of Ritual

All night I dreamt of cesspits.

In them, amid filth and refuse, psychologists sat in a circle. It resembled some kind of psychological training—an initiation rite. They were instructed to share their feelings and inner states. Around the pools walked figures in long, dark cloaks with vertical golden inlays—one for each pit. The faces of these initiators were concealed behind golden masks. Each held a basket filled with cheap golden glitter, and from time to time would sprinkle the heads of those sitting below, as if to confirm that the initiation was proceeding correctly.

The atmosphere of the dream strongly evoked scenes from Hard to Be a God by Aleksei German—a world of mud and density, where the sublime and the grotesque coexist without mediation.

I had the uncanny impression that these golden-masked figures were feeding on the emotional energy of the unfortunate participants, who were required to endure such humiliation in order to “pass” a psychological initiation.

The pit is one of the most ancient archetypal images. It signifies descent, immersion, entry into the unconscious. In classical initiation, the hero truly descends into darkness—into a cave, beneath the earth, into the belly of the whale. Yet there, transformation occurs. There is meaning, risk, and encounter with something greater than oneself.

Here, however, the pit is not sacred. It is a cesspit.

This is not the nigredo of the alchemical process that leads to rebirth, but stagnation in the waste of the collective shadow. Not depth, but an imitation of depth. Not engagement with affect, but its demonstrative exhibition. The gilded confetti is a glittering yet counterfeit symbol of “gold.” Alchemy without fire. Transformation without transcendence. Shine in place of value.

In the dream, figures with concealed faces appear. The mask is persona. When the face disappears, subjectivity dissolves and only function remains. These figures are not guides but administrators of the process. They do not participate in vulnerability; they regulate it. Their authority rests on asymmetry: some expose themselves, others remain concealed.

The dream poses an almost juridical question: to whom does the energy belong?

When a person opens their soul in a space devoid of real responsibility, their psychic energy is not integrated. It does not return as consciousness. It disperses—or is appropriated by the structure. One senses a leakage: libido flowing into a system that promises depth while reproducing dependency.

The setting recalls Hard to Be a God: a world of grime where elevated ideals coexist with physiology and absurdity. In such a world, spirituality easily becomes spectacle, and initiation becomes a service.

The image of those who consent to sit in the pit is especially important. They are not merely victims. They are seekers of recognition, belonging, and confirmation of their worth. The certificate becomes a symbolic marker: I have completed the path—even if the path itself was profaned.

The dream seems to distinguish between two kinds of container. One is internal, formed through authentic experience, risk, solitude, and confrontation with one’s own shadow. The other is external and institutional, where “containment” is promised but replaced in practice by regulation and ritual. The masked initiators may represent the archetype of the false father, or the inflation of the Self appropriated by an organization. When an archetype is replaced by a structure, energy ceases to serve individuation and instead sustains the system itself.

In this sense, the dream is a warning about the profanation of initiation—about how easily the archetype of depth becomes a commodity, and vulnerability a resource.

True descent is always bound to responsibility. It requires no glitter. It is not sold for money and cannot be certified. Its mark is not left on paper but inscribed in the structure of the personality.

Perhaps the central question of the dream is not about those who walk in masks, but about where the boundary lies between the search for meaning and the willingness to endure humiliation in exchange for symbolic recognition.

And yet the energy of the soul never disappears. The psyche continues its work, forming an inner response—a symbolic antidote to external contamination. The dream became my psyche’s answer to a real group process.

(February 2026)