A place of purification and renewal

A place of purification and renewal. A fragment from a dream sequence.

The article was published in the journal “Jungian Analysis” No. 1 for 2010.

Everyone says we're together,
Everyone talks about it, but few know in what...

Viktor Tsoi

A fragment, because there is no such thing as a complete dream analysis, just as there is no such thing as a definitive and irrevocable analysis. Throughout one's life, one can return to the same dream, see it differently, and draw different conclusions from it. Moreover, a dream can begin to develop, acquire a fuller meaning, and even at some point take on a life separate from the dreamer. There are countless examples of this—any dream told, let alone a printed one! A symbol, in a word.

C.G. Jung viewed dreams as a direct channel of communication with the unconscious, when the unconscious speaks its own language. He considered it unacceptable to interpret dreams based on any theory and sought to delve into the content of the dream itself. A dream always solves a specific and unique human problem. It is not a protective curtain behind which real figures are discerned, but rather performs an important function in conveying the existential message of the unconscious.

Dreaming is the opposite of the waking state and serves a compensatory function. It allows what is suppressed and not developed in consciousness to express itself and develop. In dreams, conscious attitudes can be adjusted.

Dreams reflect a person's pressing needs and offer them the chance to take a new step on the path of change, producing symbols through which the contents of the unconscious can be assimilated. Dreams send messages to the ego, offer advice, and reveal new perspectives and opportunities for self-realization.

C.G. Jung believed that dreams reveal the wisdom of the unconscious, which has not yet been revealed to consciousness and lies somewhat ahead of it. By assimilating this wisdom through symbols, a person changes and develops. Therefore, a psychotherapist can often understand and anticipate the development of events in a client's inner life, extending the line from their preparation in a dream to their future realization. In a dream, a symbol manifests itself that has not yet been assimilated by consciousness, but has already begun its journey from the depths of the unconscious. In a client's dream, an analytical psychologist seeks not past traumas and conflicts, but the potential for further development. C.G. Jung saw it as an attempt to cope with a problem that the ego cannot resolve, ignores, or rejects. Therefore, dream images are often more emotionally charged than those of the waking state.

The interpretation of symbolism must be individual, so Jungian analysis offers additional opportunities to expand the image's content. For example, it may suggest acting out the continuation of the dream, dancing, drawing the dream, or talking to an image representing a significant figure.

Adela Wharton, an English physician, told Joseph Henderson that during his analysis, Jung encouraged her to dance mandala-like figures when she was unable to draw them: “The room was small, but a small clear space was sufficient.”

We know very little about the details of her dance, or what it touched on in each of them, or what they came to afterward. But in his "Commentary on The Secret of the Golden Flower," Jung wrote:

"Among my patients, I've encountered several women who didn't draw mandalas, but danced them instead. In India, there's a special name for this—mandala nrithya, or mandala dance. The dance figures express the same meanings as the drawings. My patients can say very little about the meaning of the symbols, but they are fascinated by them and find that the symbols somehow express and influence their subjective mental state."

Jung touched on this topic again in his 1929 seminar on dreams:

"A patient once brought me a drawing of a mandala, explaining that it was a sketch of certain movements along lines in space. She danced it for me, but most of us are too self-absorbed and not courageous enough to do so. It was a magical formula or incantation with a sacred vessel or flame in the center, an ultimate goal to be reached indirectly, but by stopping at cardinal points." (Joan Chodorow)

The psychoanalyst instructs the patient to try to retain the dream image and analyzes the resulting output (using the method of active imagination). They may suggest recalling a life situation that is similar in its internal logic to the dream situation. Since symbols allow for multiple interpretations, C.G. Jung used dream series to determine the optimal path in analysis. These series clarify the meaning of individual dreams or provide an opportunity to reject misinterpretations. During psychotherapy, dreams become increasingly understandable, and their meaning for the individual in the context of their life becomes clearer.

Unlike classical psychoanalysis, C.G. Jung rejected the universality of symbolism. At the same time, there are dreams that predominantly feature universal images, mythological in their structure. Dream images may be archetypal, but the meaning of a symbol is always individual. To interpret universal symbolism, parallels from myths, fairy tales, and beliefs are drawn upon.

I'd like to share with you a very specific dream about a specific person. So, let's take it one step at a time: a young woman, 28 years old, in her sixth year of analysis, nearing the end of her analytic relationship. At the time of the dream, she was pregnant, about twenty-two weeks along. At the time of her request, the question was, "I don't think I love myself," and our primary focus is maternal anxiety. The decision to end the analysis is connected to the pregnancy, but, I believe, it's a feedback loop—the idea of ​​ending it arose much earlier, much had been discussed, the decision had been made, and an approximate end date had been set. In other words, the idea of ​​ending the analysis came first, followed by the need to take a pregnancy test, which turned out to be positive.

Dream: It all takes place in an abstract parental home (not the home of my actual parents). There's a book in the toilet… "Human Anatomy," seventh-grade, you probably remember? A certain paragraph, a very detailed section, about how people reproduce…

I locked myself in the bathroom to read this. They started banging on the door—Svetka (my sister five years younger), my mom, and my cousin Alka. My sisters were there with the same goal as me—to read the same section. My mom, on the other hand, was like, "Give me that book, I have to tear out these pages, you can't read this!" I didn't open the door for anyone—I was negotiating with my mom. "I got into so much trouble for not knowing this! And you want to deprive us of this information now!"

At the end of the dream, the thought: what am I doing in my parents' house?! I have my own! Why am I putting up with this?

This thought has been in all my recent dreams – my parents want to take me under their wing! I have my own, but somehow I'm still not there.

This realization that I have something of my own gives me the opportunity to say all this.

I propose to play a classic game according to Jung's rules:

Yolanda Jacobi: Jung discovered that dreams generally exhibit a certain structural similarity. Contrary to Freud, he believed that each dream is a self-contained whole, a dramatic action, amenable to being broken down into the elements of a Greek play.

Place, time, characters: this is the beginning of the dream, which often indicates the setting of the action and the cast of characters.
Exposition (setting the task). Here, the central content of the dream is presented: the unconscious outlines the question it will have to answer during the dream.
The action itself is a kind of "spine" of the dream; here the "plot" unfolds, the action moves towards a climax, transformation, or catastrophe.
The resolution, the outcome of the dream, its meaningful conclusion, and the revelation of its compensatory "message." This generalized model, upon which most dreams are constructed, forms the basis for interpretation.

And we will look at it in three directions: the past, the present (what’s in the office) and the future.

Everything takes place in an abstract parental home (not the home of real parents). A book has appeared in the toilet…

The setting is the parental home. In the past, the world of united parents.

… The Progenitors of the World, heaven and earth, are united in a circle, infinitely and eternally fused, since nothing has yet come between them to create duality from the original unity. (Neumann 1998)

in the present – ​​my office, and perhaps she herself, in the future – her home, she will soon become a mother.

The toilet is the most mysterious place in the house, the cleanest—"the face of the house," as someone recently told me—and the dirtiest at the same time. It's a place of shared use and privacy, a place where the interests of all the apartment's residents intersect, a place of renewal and purification, a sacred place where the most successful ideas and revelations come. And at the same time, it's a place of pain and pleasure, joy—there are people who congratulate those emerging from the toilet—"with relief!"—and protest—remember the poop-smeared walls or the horrific constipation of children—"if you don't accept me, I won't give you up," and so on and so forth. And, of course, it's a place of creation and birth. The most ecological position for human birth is squatting...

It must be said that women have been giving birth lying on their backs for a relatively short time—only in the last 200-300 years. Since time immemorial, women have given birth either standing, kneeling, or squatting—in other words, they have, in essence, practiced… birthing in a vertical position.
In Russia, women often gave birth in a heated bathhouse. Midwives assisting with labor would not allow the mother to lie down for long, forcing her to walk, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, and even step over obstacles. Apparently, this tactic was chosen because an upright position and movement promote uterine contractions.
Since ancient times, the tradition of sitting during childbirth has persisted in China. This birthing technique was also quite common in Europe. In Holland, a birthing chair was included in the bride's dowry until the last century. Historical sources indicate that, until the 16th century, women in France predominantly gave birth on all fours, while in Germany, women gave birth on a chair. (http://www.9months.ru/press/2_02/32/)

And at this point, a book "started"—not just any book, but "Human Anatomy, seventh grade, remember? A certain paragraph, a very detailed section, about how people reproduce..."—associations of some knowledge that must be read, comprehended, absorbed, swallowed, grasped, appropriated, that is, made one's own. It's difficult—there are time constraints, space constraints—the restroom, a place that can't be occupied for long (in one play, there was a sign on the wall of the bar, "Drink quickly, someone else wants your mug!"), you have to make it. Tension mounts—they're "breaking in." There's a direct reference to the time "seventh grade," and that's thirteen or fourteen years old, puberty, menstruation, the final realization of one's gender.

And at the same time, the client reflects on the fact that this is a dedication; when she reads it, she will be ready to give birth to a child and be born herself – to leave the analysis.

I locked myself in the bathroom to read this. They started banging on the door—Svetka (my sister five years younger), my mom, and my cousin Alka. My sisters were there with the same goal as me—to read the same section. My mom, on the other hand, was like, "Give me that book, I have to tear out these pages, you can't read this!" I didn't open the door for anyone—I was negotiating with my mom. "I got into so much trouble for not knowing this! And you want to deprive us of this information now!"

My sister - in the analysis there was a lot of hatred and envy towards my younger sister, she is so "all my mother's", "I sometimes don't understand where my mother is, where my sister is", "I'm afraid to tell my sister - my mother will find out everything immediately", now attempts are being made to improve the relationship with my sister, I have gradually accepted the idea that my sister is also going down the path of separation, but in a different way, not through analysis.

My client's mother's sister is a very interesting character! Their parents died young, and my client's mother was forced to become a mother to her brother and sister. And the sister—the ungrateful one!—chose her own path and became an artist. But my client followed a similar path: first, she trained as an accountant for her mother, and then earned a second degree for herself—as a designer. She now works as a designer.

The association with me is that I'm that mother who's trying to break in, who wants to tear out the pages and thus keep her in analysis. But at the same time, I'm also her cousin (Alya - Olya), and I think there are very strong feelings of envy hidden here. Envy of me – there was a break in her analysis due to my pregnancy and the birth of my child. And the fear of envy and hatred of the mother – her mother will no longer be pregnant, her time for childbearing is inexorably passing. Again – I'll tear out the pages, and my client won't leave, won't abandon me. And she needs to hold on to the book, lock herself in the most sacred place of the house and hold on to it, no matter the cost!

The tension mounts and the action unfolds:

I don’t open the door to anyone – I’m negotiating with my mother.

Associations dance around the closed door. Just a few years ago, the door was open; she remembers how her mother would walk into her room without knocking while she was changing and stand there talking to her. She felt awkward, but she couldn't show her mother the door. Her ex-boyfriend—her mother really liked him!—with whom they lived in an apartment with his mother, and there simply wasn't a door at the entrance to their room... Even though he had an apartment... She tolerated it for a long time, then left. And, thanks to that guy, how much anger and despair there was later, first at him, as a safer object, and then at all the mothers combined!

She doesn’t open the door, although some part of her still wants to and she says thoughtfully: “Not long ago, I probably would have slipped a book under the door”...

And – the climax – she screams: "Because I didn't know this, I got into so much trouble in my time! And you want to deprive us of this information now!"

18 years old... love... Of course, real love, with sex. Her mother comes to the lovers' house at night and pulls her daughter out of their embrace, "quickly home!" But that's not the worst part. The worst part is the abortion, which she had out of fear... of her mother. Moreover, she secretly got a referral, mentally prepared herself. But her mother found the referral in her purse. Then she was taken to "her mother's" hospital, and the abortion was performed by doctors "her mother's" friends. This story was never discussed. Moreover, when the client came for analysis, she didn't mention the unborn child for a long time. And only her dreams obsessively repeated the image: she gave birth to a child and immediately hid it, either in a closet or in a travel bag... And then, a few days later, she had to open it. What was there? She woke up in great fear.

There was so much grief when this story surfaced! The fear that she would never have children again, and the defense, "Why do I need a child at 18?! I would never have had a career!" She talked to the child in her active imagination—it was definitely a boy! She mourned, "He would be seven years old now and would be going to school." She even went to a children's oncology clinic and donated blood.

Then there were other dreams and other feelings, and in the end, both the unborn child and his mother who never happened forgave and understood each other.

And then the World of Mothers arose

Faust (shuddering):

On the descent to the Mothers! Than this word

What is more terrible to me than the clap of thunder? (Goethe)

And she—now pregnant—began to think that she would emerge from this dressing room as a completely different woman. A woman who had given birth and was born. A mother.

And I said that she would soon become a mother herself and I heard her voice: “I myself will become a mother... I see how Mom becomes just a mom... I feel how the Great Goddess becomes an ordinary person”... She said it and was frightened by what she said.

…every mother includes her daughter, and every daughter her mother, and that every woman extends backwards into her mother and forwards into her daughter. (Jung 2005)

We were silent for the remaining five minutes of the session...

…if a much-adored object is associated by the unconscious with the anal region, we must conclude that this is a way of expressing respect and attention, similar to what a child feels…we can also mention the close connection between excrement and gold in alchemy, the lower value being united with the higher. (Jung quoted in Samuels 1997)

The title refers to "a place of purification and renewal," so what exactly is this place? According to Peter Loewenberg (Chairman of the IPA China Committee; Professor of History, University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA); Training Analyst and Supervisor, New Center for Psychoanalysis, Los Angeles, California):

The psychoanalytic setting is a safe, holding space where the patient can bring anxiety, which is considered a signal of unconscious threat and danger (S. Freud, “Inhibitions, Symptoms and Anxiety,” 1926). Psychoanalysis is a space in which anxieties are controlled and unconscious fears and their sources are explored.

The psychoanalytic setting serves as a creative container (Wilfred R. Bion, “Learning from Experience,” (1962) in Seven Servants (New York: Jason Aronson, 1977), p. 90). What I mean is that the psychoanalytic setting and the analyst are not inert containers…. rather, the analytic setting is like an oak whiskey barrel, which interacts with the distilled mash to age, detoxify, modify, and change. The barrel is dried and charred, which creates a thick layer of charcoal inside it so that it can absorb unwanted impurities and impart flavors. Oak whiskey barrels are not sealed; they are permeable to air, allowing the spirit to evaporate. Over ten years of aging, which softens the flavor, absorbs the aroma of the wood, and imparts color, about a quarter of the spirit is lost to evaporation. Scots who use American whiskey casks call this the "Angel's Share." (Peter Loewenberg)

And this place in this story is the office, and the dream space itself.

"That which is below is like that which is above, and that which is above is like that which is below. And all this only to accomplish the miracle of one single one." (Hermes Trismigister, "The Emerald Tablet," quoted by Serge Hutin).

Bibliography

I. Jacobi “The Psychological Teachings of Carl Gustav Jung” C.G. Jung “Spirit and Life”, M., “Praktika”, 1996 translated by L. Akopyan
E. Neumann "The Origin and Development of Consciousness" "Refl-book" "Wackler" 1998
E. Samuels “Jung and the Post-Jungians”, M., “CheRo”, 1997
Goethe's "Faust" Part II, Act 1, Scene "The Dark Gallery" translated by B. Pasternak
C.G. Jung, "Soul and Myth. Six Archetypes." Moscow, AST Minsk Harvest, 2005
Joan Chodorow, Body as Symbol: Dance and Movement in Analytic Therapy, http://www.isra-trainings.com/articles/dance/body_as_symbol.html
"The Psychoanalytic Setting as a Creative Space" by Peter Loewenberg http://www.bpaonline.ru
Serge Hutin. Everyday Life of Alchemists in the Middle Ages. Moscow, Young Guard, Palimpsest, 2005.