Caelum — Latin for ‘heaven,’ ‘sky,’ or ‘the abode of the gods’ — enters depth-psychological discourse principally through the alchemical tradition as elaborated by C. G. Jung in Mysterium Coniunctionis and subsequently developed by James Hillman, Edward Edinger, and others. In this literature the term names not a cosmological location but a psychic substance: a rarefied, luminous blue extract produced through the alchemical opus, identified by Gerhard Dorn as ‘a certain heavenly substance hidden in the human body’ and glossed by Jung as possessing ‘a thousand names,’ among them anima mundi in matter, universal medicine, and window into eternity. Hillman extends the term into an aesthetic-phenomenological register, treating the caelum as the experiential ground of fresh perception — the blue sky of Merleau-Ponty, the cataract-saturated vision of Monet, the visions Jung reported after his 1944 illness — thereby linking alchemical symbolism to a poetics of consciousness. Edinger reads caelum more strictly as the third-stage product of Dorn’s coniunctio sequence: the prerequisite for the soul’s re-embodiment following the unio mentalis. A persistent tension in this literature runs between the caelum as an inner psychic achievement (a ‘pure blue liquid’ floating to the top of the opus) and as a universal, trans-personal given that simply happens — the sky into which consciousness dissolves. The term thus anchors debates about mundification, unus mundus, and the boundary between spiritual inflation and genuine psychological transformation.