By a symbol I do not mean an allegory or a sign, but an image that describes in the best possible way the dimly discerned nature of the spirit. A symbol does not define or explain; it points beyond itself to a meaning that is darkly divined yet still beyond our grasp, and cannot be adequately expressed in the familiar words of our language. Spirit that can be translated into a definite concept is a psychic complex lying within the orbit of our ego-consciousness. It will not bring forth anything, nor will it achieve anything more than we have put into it. But spirit that demands a symbol for its expression is a psychic complex that contains the seeds of incalculable possibilities.
— Carl Gustav Jung
Jung is drawing a line here that most people cross without noticing. The allegory explains — it cashes out meaning in a currency already in circulation. The sign points to something already known and agreed upon. But the symbol does something neither of those can do: it holds open a space of not-yet-knowing, and holds it in a way that keeps the unknown generative rather than merely frustrating. The "darkly divined" is not a failure of comprehension; it is the very condition that makes the symbol alive.
What the passage asks you to notice is the difference between spirit that you possess and spirit that possesses you. Spirit translated cleanly into concept sits inside what you already are — it confirms, it elaborates, it returns to you exactly what you deposited. There is a version of depth work that operates entirely in that register: you learn the vocabulary, you name the complex, and the naming soothes without disturbing. The symbol refuses this. It arrives as something not yet yours, pointing past the edge of what ego-consciousness can domesticate, and whatever lives there has not been pre-digested by your existing framework. The incalculable possibilities Jung mentions are incalculable precisely because they have not yet been reduced to what you can already think.
Carl Gustav Jung·The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche·1960