The archetype is increasingly detached from its dynamic background and gradually turned into a purely intellectual formula.  In this way it is neutralized, and you can then say 'one can live with it quite well. 

[speaking of a common condition in which the modern inflated ego usups the center of psyche (imagines itself to be the 'creator of its own being' (Edinger, p. 23) and denies the dynamic reality of experience]

Ours is an age between worldviews, creative yet disoriented, a transitional era when the old cultural vision no longer holds and the new has not yet constellated.  Yet we are not without signs of what the new might look like.

It is a condition of the modern psyche that the ego assumes itself to be the centre of the psyche–unconsciously inflating itself and understanding itself to the creator of its own being.  This is achieved by removed our experience from its dynamic archetypal, instinctual and emotional basis.  As Jung writes:

"The archetype is increasingly detached from its dynamic background and gradually truned into a purely intellectual formula.  In this way it is neutralized, and you can then say 'one can live with it quite well.'" Letters vol. 2, 259

Perfection is defeat. ...Perfection belongs to the gods; completeness or wholeness is the most a human being can hope for.  ...It is in seeking perfection by isolating and exaggerating parts of ourselves that we become neurotic.  The chief sign of the pursuit of perfection is obsession.  Obsession occurs when all the psychic energy, which ought to be distributed among the various parts of the personality in an attempt to harmonize them, is focused on one area of the personality to the exclusion of everything else.  Obsession is always a fixation–a freezing-over of the personality so that it becomes not a living being but something fixed, like a piece of sculpture, locked into a complex.
    
Addiction to perfection is at root a suicidal addiction.  The addict is simulating not life but death.  Almost inevitably a woman addicted to perfection will view herself as a work of art, and her real terror is that the work of art, being so precious, may in one instant be destroyed.  She has treat herself as a rare piece of Ming porcelain or what Keats described as a ‘still unravished bride of quietness,’ a ‘foster-child of silence and slow-time.’  ...To move toward perfection is to move out of life, or what is worse, never to enter it.

[Having] appropriated to itself all conscious intelligence in the universe ...Man faces the existential crisis of being a solitary and mortal conscious ego thrown into an ultimately meaningless and unknowable universe ...and the psychological and biological crisis of living in a world that has come to be shaped in such a way that it precisely matches his world view–i.e., in a man-made environment that is increasingly mechanistic, atomized, soulless, and self-destructive.

Love is the ultimate outlaw.