Jung's Pueblo example lands hard precisely because it describes something the modern inheritor of enlightened disenchantment cannot quite admit wanting. The sun rises without ritual; everyone knows this. What the Pueblo elder knows that the enlightened observer does not is that *living inside the drama* is not a cognitive error to be corrected — it is the only psychic arrangement in which meaning actually metabolizes rather than merely gets understood. When ritual loses its pointing function and becomes procedural repetition, the depth it was meant to conduct does not disappear. It finds other channels, and they are rarely chosen consciously: the compulsion, the obsession, the addiction that repeats with the same formal structure as a rite — same preparation, same threshold, same altered interior, same return.

Hollis is naming what happens when the symbolic life collapses outward into its cultural containers while the need that drove it remains. The need does not become less urgent for being unsatisfied by adequate form. It becomes more urgent, and it recruits whatever is available. The man who cannot find his way into depth through sanctioned symbolic life will find his way there through wreckage — which is a form of the rite, arrived at sideways, at tremendous cost. The banal that Jung dismisses is not nothing; it is what the soul is left with when the drama goes dark.