Journeys of a Pregnant Virgin

Sunday, January 29, 2006

 

Midpoint

Today is the exact midpoint of my post-holiday six weeks in Zurich. Three weeks from today I will be in the air, returning to beautiful Vancouver and to Steve's radiant face at the end of the International Arrivals walkway. That's always a lovely moment - when I see his beaming countenance welcoming me home. Well, with this beginning I think I've just blurred the line between "blog" and journal entry, but I don't care. I felt like starting with that image!

I like the symmetry of being at the midpoint. Since I actually left on a Monday and arrived the next day, technically the midpoint is tomorrow, but psychologically it is today - three weeks gone by and three more to go. I like the arc and rhythm of these six week stints in Zurich. I arrive, try to go a little easy because of jetlag, settle into a rhythm of seminars, walks, writing, reading, soupmaking, and coffees with friends. Then it's already midway (today) and my energy begins to move along the descending part of the arc of my time here, and a tiny part of me is beginning to anticipate and move toward my return to Vancouver. Well, I'm not at all satisfied with that description and I have not managed to convey at all how visceral this experience is. It's definitely in my body, a felt internal sense-image of curvature through time. Life certainly does not get boring with all this movement and change, but sometimes I wonder how different this Zurich exerience would be if I were here continuously for a year or two and really settled into an ongoing life and sense of belonging here. That won't happen and I don't regret it, but I'm curious. I like the intense immersion of shorter periods here for 6-12 weeks at a time, followed by slightly longer stays in Vancouver, where my other life resumes and continues. I love having both and don't want to give up either. There's my love of balance and symmetry again, I suppose.

It's still cold out but the sun is shining and I'll head out shortly and not be surprised if I find myself at Cafe Schober or Spruengli for a cafe creme. It's a day of long-distance telephone visits, one already this morning, and at least two more planned for later in the day. I like that overlap between the two halves of my life as well.

But enough ruminations. What can I say about the week just past? Some interesting lectures and seminars on topics such as the myth of Demeter and Persephone, practical and ethical dimensions of the analyst's work, picture interpretation (which gets more interesting as time goes by), more Authentic Movement, shamanism and rock art, and Schumann's song cycle "Dichterliebe" (in German). The remaining three weeks are lighter as far as seminars are concerned, but I'm hoping to make my time count in other ways which I will come back to if things work out. This weekend and next I have 3 days off and I'd thought of going away but decided against it, rather using the time to read and walk, and saving my travel funds for warmer months.

Well, I promised a quote this week. The one to follow is perhaps not particularly juicy but it may be evocative for anyone who has shared my frustration about not being able to remember "enough" dreams. (To this I must add, however, that right now I am remembering so many dreams that I don't know which ones to take to analysis first! So be careful what you ask for!)

"The psychological rule is: the unconscious takes the same attitude toward the ego as the ego takes toward it. If one pays friendly attention to the unconscious it becomes helpful to the ego. Gradually the realization dawns that a mutual 'opus' is being performed. The ego needs the guidance and direction of the unconscious to have a meaningful life; and the latent Philosophers' Stone, imprisoned in the 'prima materia,' needs the devoted efforts of the conscious ego to come into actuality." This is from Edinger's "Anatomy of the Psyche."

I still love Marion Woodman's comment on this exchange, in "Addiction to Perfection": "Unconsciousness needs the eye of consciousness; consciousness needs the energy of the unconscious. Writing allows that interchange to take place."

And with those wise words, I will sign off for this week and get out into the sunny cold day.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

 

Experience

It's Sunday morning again already and I'm enjoying my second cup of coffee after clearing up the last few dishes from dinner last night. I cooked an Indian meal for Marianne and Nick, my landlady and her boyfriend, and also invited Vicki, a new friend at IASP, from Maine. We had a fine and lighthearted time, and I definitely felt more "social" than I have since returning two weeks ago. I'm also pleased to have had two nights in a row of adequate sleep, having wondered when I would finally get over the terrible jetlag I experienced this time. My body and soul are finally in agreement with Zurich time, although part of me wonders how real time can be if we can manipulate it nine hours back and forth at will.

This was to have been my heaviest week with 28 hours of seminars, but I left one seminar after the first two sessions, which brought the hours down to 22. I still can't withdraw from a seminar without a pang of guilt because registration is considered a commitment and we are not supposed to pull out without good reason. But at the age of 52 I have decided that feeling bored and restless for two hours is reason enough, even though I never want to insult an instructor. At this time in my life I want to feel that my precious time is well-used.

(Most of what has been most meaningful this past week has occurred in the inner world which leaves me wondering what to describe here. Unlike some people who think of their blogs as on-line journals, for me this is - as I've reflected before - an open "letter from Zurich" but the line between letter and journal is sometimes fine indeed.)

I was quite sorry to see the end of my Thursday evening lecture and seminar series on "Introduction into Perception, Thinking and Action of the Psychiatrist." I'd expected a rather dry and clinical series of information-based evenings, and this was so much more. Apparently psychiatry here is very different than in North America. The instructor is also a professional psychotherapist although not a Jungian analyst - which surprised me given the importance he gave to dreams and archetypal elements of the healing process. It was purely fascinating, and my big regret was that I had to miss the third of five evenings, when he dealt with schizophrenia, highly relevant because of my brother's lifelong battle with the disease. Maya generously gave me her class notes to copy, but they can't convey the feeling-tone with which he presents case material and that to me was perhaps the most illuminating aspect of his presentation. For a psychiatrist to refuse to pathologize human experience and instead regard his patients and clients with such deep respect for their courage and survival strategies is quite remarkable. Beyond that, it is moving. He made no pretence of being untouched by the enormous suffering he encounters and told us that to do this kind of work changes your life - "You lose your innocence and you have no more illusions about life." But he also expressed the rich reward of seeing someone whose emotions have been frozen or carefully hidden away begin to reenter life, and the joy that comes then to both client and therapist alike. The other thing I so appreciated was that he insisted on including an experiential dimension each week so that we had just a tiny preview of what it might be like to work with someone with a serious depression or a major trauma in their life. That immediate link between theory and hands-on experience is missing in most of our seminars and it was such a valuable part for me. (I do feel it's a shame this is so unusual at ISAP. But enough said - I should probably be a little circumspect with these so public reflections!)

On a safer but also relevant (to me, anyway) topic, the weather has warmed up and in addition to some prototypical Vancouver wet and mild weather, we've had a couple of beautifully sunny days. I have been out walking more, and will head down to Stadelhofen shortly to meet up with another Canadian student-colleague for coffee. I have been enjoying getting to know more of my "classmates" and contemplating the evolving face of Jungian analysis as we go through our studies and begin our individual work as analysts in the wider world. Sometimes I feel like an older sister in the group, but yesterday I had a chat with a very lively and engaged 65 year old German woman, officially retired and pensioned, who was inspired by an 84-year old seminar leader to enter a new phase in her life and wants to work with geriatric populations in the future. I found that wonderful. It's one of the things I love about this work - there's no such thing as coming to it too late!

I still have no quote to share, I'm sorry to say. But I suspect that this will change soon because I have begun to do some very interesting reading. I'll keep you posted, so to speak! And with that optimistic premonition, I will sign off and wish all who read these lines a rich and fulfilling week to come.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

 

Process

It is a cold, silent early Sunday morning in wintery Zurich. My ongoing jetlag had me up at 4:30 which is better than my 2:20 am rising yesterday morning, but five nights of this have left me with a background headache and a veil of fatigue that feels thickest just when I most want to concentrate during an interesting seminar.

Nevertheless, despite my complaint, I am in good spirits. So far this has a more comfortable pace and feeling-tone than my six weeks here before Christmas. I arrived at 1 pm on Tuesday and as I walked into my 4 pm fairy tale seminar with an instructor I already know and like and a group of students who already feel like friends and colleagues, I felt yes, this is where I belong right now. And felt again that sense of deep quiet gratitude that outer circumstances, synchronicity, and the loving support of family and friends have all come together to allow me to follow my deepest bliss.

Now that the Admissions process has been completed, I can sink more deeply into the training process itself, which once again feels full of endless possibility. Even at this early stage (or perhaps not so early since everything precious in my life seems related to this work), I have more ideas for the two required "Symbol papers" and dissertation than I can ever use, and beyond that, lots of inspiration for seminars that I would like to teach here myself one day. But with "process" being the most important dimension of this training, I'm sure that the journey I have undertaken will take me in many unexpected directions, and I want to open myself to all of the unforseen possibilities ahead.

Reflecting back on my sleeplessness for a moment, I think it's not only jetlag, to be honest. My psyche simply cannot make an instantaneous switch from my Vancouver life and identity to my life here in Zurich. Add to that the fact that several seminars this week were more experiential than usual - which I love - and left my emotions churning afterward. It is all good, but intense, and would have left me tossing at night, even without jetlag.

Today will be a slow day. I've already made my enormous pot of soup for the coming week which is my heaviest, with 28 hours of lectures and seminars ahead! This afternoon I am meeting Vicki for a walk (assuming our ears and noses don't get frostbitten) and coffee - hello Spruengli Cafe! Suddenly I seem to have a very busy overseas telephone visit schedule as well. Part of me is sure I should be making "better" use of my time to read and immerse myself in Jungian theory, and then there is another (pretty insistent) part that reads for about twenty minutes and then balks. Over the last decade or so I have observed that I simply cannot read the way I used to, and I think it has been part of my "midlife" change in direction. I'm sure there is a more graceful way to express it, but Jung is not the only one to suggest that at midlife we find ourselves exploring unlived life and potential. Heaven knows I have read thousands and thousands of books in my life so far and will always love reading, but other passions demand my attention now and I take this resistance to booklearning as significant and not mere mental laziness! At the same time, I know that my precious five remaining weeks will fly by and, in accordance with my Libra nature, am always seeking a good balance and wise use of time.

And with that I will end this first reflection of 2006, with Happy New Year wishes to all.

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