Journeys of a Pregnant Virgin

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.