Soul-making needs adequate ideational vessels, and it equally needs to let go of them. In this sense all that is written in the foregoing pages is confessed to with passionate conviction, to be defended as articles of faith, and at the same time disavowed, broken, and left behind. By holding to noth-ing, nothing holds back the movement of soul-making from its ongoing process, which now like a long Renaissance processional slips away from us into memory, off-stage and out of sight. They are leaving-even the Bricoleur and the Rogue Errant who put together the work and charted its course; there goes Mersenne in his monk's dress, and Lou, and Hegel; the Cartesians depart, and the transcendent refusers of pathology, and Heroic Ego who had to bear such brunt; now Anima in all her marvellous veils moves off southward smiling; going too are Freud and Jung, side by side, psychologized, into the distance, and the mythical personages from Greece, the Greek words and Latin phrases, the footnoting authorities, the literalistic enemies and their troop of fallacies; and when the last image vanishes, all icons gone, the soul begins again to populate the stilled realms with figures and fantasies born of the imaginative heart.
— James Hillman
Hillman earns the right to this farewell by building the entire apparatus first. Three hundred pages of architecture, and then he watches it leave. That is not false modesty or rhetorical pirouette — it is the argument in action. The ideational vessel was necessary; its departure is equally necessary. Soul-making is not what you find at the end of the right framework but what keeps moving when the framework stops protecting you from the movement.
What Hillman is dismantling here is the consolation that depth psychology itself can provide — the consolation of method, of vocabulary, of having the right figures around you. Anima, Jung, Freud, the Greek words, even the enemies who gave the argument its sharpness: all of them are load-bearing until they are not, and then they leave. The soul does not mourn them. It begins again. Not forward, not upward — again. The "stilled realms" are not emptiness waiting to be filled with better concepts; they are what becomes audible when you stop defending the last set of icons against whatever is pressing in from the edges of what you currently know.
This is where the passage cuts: not the letting-go, which is easy to aestheticize, but the repopulation — figures and fantasies "born of the imaginative heart," which has always been working, even while you were busy defending articles of faith.
James Hillman·Re-Visioning Psychology·1975