James Hillman on Soul

"By soul I mean, first of all, a perspective rather than a substance, a viewpoint toward things rather than a thing itself. This perspective is reflective; it mediates events and makes differences between ourselves and everything that happens. Between us and events, between the doer and the deed, there is a reflective moment -- and soul-making means differentiating this middle ground.

It is as if consciousness rests upon a self-sustaining and imagining substrate -- an inner place or deeper person or ongoing presence -- that is simply there even when all our subjectivity, ego, and consciousness go into eclipse. Soul appears as a factor independent of the events in which we are immersed. Though I cannot identify soul with anything else, I also can never grasp it apart from other things, perhaps because it is like a reflection in a flowing mirror, or like the moon which mediates only borrowed light. But just this peculiar and paradoxical intervening variable gives on the sense of having or being soul. However intangible and indefinable it is, soul carries highest importance in hierarchies of human values, frequently being identified with the principle of life and even of divinity.

In another attempt upon the idea of soul I suggest that the word refers to that unknown component which makes meaning possible, turns events into experiences, is communicated in love, and has a religious concern. These four qualifications I had already put forth some years ago. I had begun to use the term freely, usually interchangeably with psyche (from Greek) and anima (from Latin). Now I am adding three necessary modifications. First, soul refers to the deepening of events into experiences; second, the significance of soul makes possible, whether in love or in religious concern, derives from its special relation with death. And third, by soul I mean the imaginative possibility in our natures, the experiencing through reflective speculation, dream, image, fantasy -- that mode which recognizes all realities as primarily symbolic or metaphorical." (p. X)

James Hillman (1975). Revisioning Psychology. New York: Harper & Row.

Stefano Bolognini on the Interaction of the Intrapsychic and the Interpsychic

"The ‘interpsychic’ is an extended psychic dimension, regarding the joint functioning and reciprocal influences of two minds. The concepts of ‘subjectivity’ and ‘person’ can be included in the ‘interpsychic’. They can also overlap with each other, and sometimes all three can overlap together, but they do not necessarily coincide. In the different contemporary perspectives, how can we modify the intrapsychic ‘through’ (and ‘with’ and ‘by’) the interpsychic? . . .

It is the ambition of all psychoanalysts to be able to change, to some extent, certain aspects of the patient's intrapsychic life lastingly and structurally. Every school has its specific goals for the change process, depending on its theoretical assumptions, but all agree that the patient should terminate analysis (though not self-analysis, a ‘never ending’ contact with the introjected analytical function) once crucial and lasting changes within him have come about.

There are, in fact, no real differences of opinion on the next step either, that is on the general principle that the patient's intrapsychic changes are also the result of work on the patient's intrapsychic with that same patient's intrapsychic (development of transference, stream of associations, re-emergence of memories, insight and so on) and with the analyst's intrapsychic (analysis of his own transference and countertransference, the use of his associations, memories and so on to formulate interpretations).

All analysts agree with these propositions in what I might call an ‘unsaturated’ way, in that they by no means exclude these passages from their analytic work. Likewise, everyone maintains, speaking in general terms, that there is inevitably interaction between analyst and patient (without being ‘interactivists’ by this admission), just as there is between mother and child, and that the intra- and intersubjective dimensions cannot be separated during treatment, though there may be oscillation, with one occasionally predominating over the other (Green, 2000).

Differences arise when it comes to discussing how and how much this interaction comes about, in what direction and with what effects, with what advantages or what risks, and what its technical use is, given the complexity of the conscious, unconscious and preconscious levels involved. To sum up, the question is: what importance should we give to the work of the intrapsychic through the interpsychic in bringing about changes?

It is at this point that we have a branching out of innumerable personalised viewpoints. After a detailed examination of recent literature on the subject, I suspect there may be as many different viewpoints as there are psychoanalysts. . . .

It must also be pointed out that the different theoretical-clinical positions, correlating to the different training and the subjective nature of each analyst, nevertheless correspond (more or less consciously) to different concepts of the mind. The idea of a psychic apparatus predominantly overdetermined by internal drives and phantasies, as in classical Freudian and Kleinian thinking, or, conversely, much more capable of being modulated in its functioning in connection to relational developments, as in subsequent thinking of the followers of Winnicott, Bion, Kohut or the intersubjectivists (though so very different among themselves), then generated a remarkable variety of technical systems, and consequently different investments on the intra- and interpsychic sides. . . .

Along the axis which links, but also separates, the two positions, we find the supporters of the ‘intra-’ and ‘interpsychic’. I want to make it clear right from the start that I am not going to deal with the caricatures proposed by each of the opposite extremes to describe the other, because I feel they are unrealistic and biased. For too long we have been swamped with improbable depictions of the ‘mirror-like analyst’ dehumanised and impersonal, an awesome cleric or functionary of a superhuman entity called psychoanalysis, with a splitting between ‘supposed knowledge’ and supposed existence, ‘passed through by the discourse of the unconscious’ inflexibly ‘Other’ with respect to the patient but also going by these descriptionswith respect to himself and human society, ‘pure analysing function’ and so forth; the analyst ‘non-persona’ who ‘non per-sonat’ (i.e. is unable to perceive and use his own internal resonance in his patient's communications (Lopez, 1983)), and cannot partially or temporarily feel for the characters (‘personae’) in the internal world of others without necessarily identifying himself with them; he who takes the ideal to be hoped for in certain cases of knowing how to be ‘personne’ (‘no one’ like Ulysses (Sechaud, 2003)) to extremes when the analytic work requires or allows it.

This legendary type of analyst, faithful to the ‘myth of the isolated mind’ (Stolorow and Atwood, 1992) is a myth in itself, perhaps required to configure ‘strong’ differentiation and counterpositions; but it is really an improbable construction, the stuff of films.

At the other extreme, I received no less disquieting descriptions of ‘horizontal’ analysts, a-generational, heedless of the past, of the unconscious, of transference, of their patients's individuality and sexuality, projected into the ‘here and now’ of the actual situation, corrective, transgressive and hyper-symmetrical. . . .

Having rid ourselves of these caricatures, I will attempt to describe what one really finds along the axis that links the two poles. I hope to be respectfully perceptive towards the two orientations I will present, although theoretical developments are currently moving towards a growing appreciation of the interpsychic. We should bear in mind Aron's (1996) observation that, in many cases, both options are at the service of resistance.1

Above all, we should note a trend towards integration (leading to a broadening and greater extension of the theoretical view). Thus, while recognising the richness of analytic exchange, many analysts believe it absolutely necessary to refer to both the intrapsychic model and the bi-personal one, two dimensions which are in dialectic equilibrium during analysis and even within the session itself (Ponsi and Filippini, 1996; Rocchi, 1997; Grispini, 2000)."  (pp. 337-339)
　
Stefano Bolognini (2004). Intrapsychic - Interpsychic, International Journal of Psycho-Analysis, Vol. 85, pp. 337-358

Jess Groesbeck on Cure and the Wounded Healer

"Finally, we must return to the question, what is at the heart of the healing mystery? As described earlier in the myth of Asclepius, being raised by Chiron ‘the primordial science of the wounded healer is nothing more than a knowledge of an incurable wound in which the healer forever partakes’. In attempting to answer these questions, we asked: Why, for the cure to take place, does the healer himself have to have knowledge of his own wounds and actually participate in them, again and again? As we have tried to show through a detailed account of the transference that occurs in the analytic process and other therapeutic relationships, it is only when the healer himself can stay in touch with and experience his own wounds and illnesses as well as confront the powerful images from the unconscious of an archetypal nature, that in turn the patient can go through the same process. For if indeed, true healing occurs, it would appear that, at least in one form, the wounded physician himself must accomplish it; but the analyst must assist. Jung said it in another way (JUNG 14, p. 116): ‘No analysis is capable of banishing all unconsciousness forever. The analyst must go on learning endlessly, and never forget that each new case brings new problems to light and thus gives rise to unconscious assumptions that have never before been constellated. We could say, without too much exaggeration, that a good half of every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor's examining himself, for only what he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in the patient. It is no less, either, if he feels that the patient is hitting him, or even scoring off him: it is his own hurt that gives the measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician.’

Adler also states the purpose of facing our wounds may be in essence the way to find those healing powers within us (ADLER 1). Possibly this is the motive that attracts people to the healing profession. Like the proverbial fools, they enter in where angels fear to tread. One analyst recently told the author that he would never quit practising and seeing patients because if he did he would get sick again. In substance he is saying that it is only through his own exposure in analytical work with patients that he is able to stay in touch with himself and find the roots and sources of wholeness to the degree that he can stay in some kind of balance.

Though healing ultimately is a mystery, trying to fathom it is a never-ending exciting venture; for in our quest we may come to know something more of ourselves." (pp. 143-144)

C. Jess Groesbeck (1975). The Archetypal Image of the Wounded Healer. Journal of Analytical Psychology, Vol. 20, pp. 122-145

　

Publication Announcement from The Psychoanalytic Muse

My book Deep Blues: Human Soundscapes for the Archetypal Journey is now available for purchase in both paperback and e-book editions at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and The Fisher King Review.  Deep Blues explores the archetypal journey of the human psyche through an examination of the blues as a musical genre. The genesis, history, and thematic patterns of the blues are examined from an archetypal perspective and various analytic theories – especially the interaction between Erich Neumann’s concept of unitary reality and the blues experience. Mythological and shamanistic parallels are used to provide a deeper understanding of the role of the bluesman, the blues performance, and the innate healing potential of the music. Universal aspects of human experience and transcendence are revealed through the creative medium of the blues. 

"Just like a fine bluesman, Winborn ‘riffs’ on the various psychological aspects of his topic: the genesis of the sound, the unitary reality created in playing and listening to the blues, its archetypal manifestations and healing potential, and the influence of the personality of performer and performance. As he states, ‘the blues belongs among the great arts because of its extraordinary capacity to embrace, embody, and transcend the opposites, especially as they become manifest in the experience of tragedy and suffering.’ Using original lyrics throughout, Winborn invites us to reimagine the power of the blues in its ability to deepen our own soulfulness." —August J. Cwik, Psy.D., Jungian Analyst & Musician

Raphaël Enthoven On Reverie

In a brief deviation from psychoanalytic authors, I have elected to include a thoughtful and poetic exposition of reverie by French philosopher Raphaël Enthoven who teaches at École Polytechnique and Sciences Po in Paris. While not specifically addressing the psychoanalytic notion of the analyst's reverie - I believe it has something to offer the analytic reader in terms of moving into states of reverie:

'Reverie is contemplation from within, letting the person who gives way to it feel change. Born of the desire and not the need to be directly involved in our surroundings, reverie strips the world of its utility. It borrows the power of narration from wakefulness and the power of divination from sleep, and keeps them vying to suspend the alternation of day and night. Reverie is how one arrives at immediacy.

Between the sweetness of being and the pain of thinking, between sleep that is opaque to itself and the blindness of one who can’t see the stars because of daylight, lies the talent to glimpse what escapes us, the equivalent of the dawn that threatens at every instant to evaporate into dream or condense into knowing, but in that interval (and pen in hand) replaces something impenetrable with something immaterial and reveals the imaginary foundations of reality. Reverie never rests.

"Thought," Bachelard says, "is reverie brought to a center. Reverie is thought turned loose." One of the lessons of reverie is that you have to sleep with your eyes open occasionally so that knowledge can find the path hearts take. For reverie is not an artifice of hidden meaning but, instead, works to squeeze every last drop from appearances. Its grail is not truth but the merging of types . . .

Because it generously accords the world the absentmindedness it deserves, reverie is light years distant from being a distraction, which does reality the considerable honor of turning its back on it. In fact, reverie celebrates the rediscovery of understanding and imagination, sets free the secret of disinterest which, because it lets you see beauty without your consent and see nature without ego, invests the world with intense interest.'

This excerpt was extracted from The New York Times online edition on April 6, 2001.  (http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/08/06/on-reverie/?hp)