Sunday, July 2, 2023

The Psychology of Projection

The Psychology of Projection

Projection is a psychological fact that can be observed everywhere in the everyday life of human beings, whether you are having a conversation and someone tells you that you are projecting, or the first impressions you have of a particular person that turned out to be wrong.

In our ideas of other people and situations, we are often liable to make misjudgements that we later have to correct, having acquired better insight. In such cases, most people acknowledge their mistake and let the matter drop, without bothering to ask themselves where the false judgement or the incorrect idea came from.

However, to really know who we are, we must concern ourselves with correcting such misjudgements. Many people will cling to them with every fibre of their being, because if one accepts correction, one may fall into a depression.

Psychological projection was conceptualised by Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, as an unconscious mechanism where one ascribes one’s own motivations, thoughts, feelings, and desires that are unacceptable to oneself, while attributing them to others. It is a misalignment of the inner and outer world, because what one is inwardly, one will see outwardly.

When we experience betrayal, abuse, discomfort, etc., we might very well be distrustful of others. This is a defence mechanism, a projection from one’s psychological history.

When we find certain unacceptable feelings, thoughts or behaviours in ourselves that we refuse to acknowledge, and see someone with that specific trait, we will feel resentment, hatred and anger towards them. Projection occurs not because of what other people say to you, but rather because of what you yourself think about those people.

A person with a strong “self-concept” (the knowledge of who one is) makes one feel good about who they are. Negative projection is more likely to occur in people with a low self-image and low self-esteem. The real self that always tends towards an ideal self, turns into a despised self.

Example of Projection

Focal Point – Leon Zernitsky

For example, a man is afraid to voice his opinion in important matters related to his job, because he does not like conflicts, he is too shy, insecure and prefers to remain passive and just do his work quietly. His co-worker, however, is assertive and makes his opinions heard in every meeting, though the shy person believes he has much better opinions. This results overtime in his co-worker getting a promotion and a raise.

Once he returns home, he will feel hatred against himself, and project it onto his co-worker, who has the qualities that he wants to possess. By pointing our finger to other people, we help to reduce the discomfort, anxiety or bad feelings about ourselves, and avoid taking responsibility to implement these good qualities in ourselves, because it is too painful, difficult or uncomfortable. When you point one finger, there are three fingers pointing back at you.

In this way, we deny that the bad qualities are ours and attribute them to others. We judge, attack or blame them. This can be extended to whole groups of people with specific ideas. One who lives through projection is convinced that it is others who have all the bad qualities and who practise all the vices. Therefore, it is they who are wrong and they who must be fought against. When one thinks everything is someone else’s fault, one will suffer a lot.

Projection occurs on an unconscious level, it is unperceived and unintentional. Projections are like an icicle, they return to us, we do not remain unpunished when we project. However, we must bear in mind that we do not make projections, rather they happen to us. It is easier to see someone else projecting than seeing yourself as projecting. They are unconscious in nature, and in the moment that you are conscious of projecting, you are already out of its influence.

To make the unconscious contents conscious, which includes the withdrawal of projections, represents an important psychological task, that allows for an increase in consciousness, and an advance in self-realisation.

It is not unusual to justify one’s projection by inventing a rationale. For instance, the person caught buying on the “black market” says in self-justification, “everybody else is doing it.” Here, the attempt is to convert neurotic anxiety about doing something wrong into objective anxiety about not getting enough to eat.

Jungian analyst Marie-Louise von Franz writes:

“If a son, for example, experiences his father as tyrannical, in later life he will, in many cases, not only project the quality of tyranny onto authority figures and father figures, such as his doctor, his superiors, and the state, but he will also behave just as tyrannically himself – though unconsciously.”

M.L. von Franz, Projection and Re-collection in Jungian Psychology

If an anti-authoritarian person has to deal with someone who shows even relatively slight manifestations of self-assertiveness or power, the image of the tyrant lying dormant in him will immediately attach itself to the other person. The projection has taken place. The projector is utterly convinced that he has to deal with a tyrant, a mistake of judgment of this kind can only be corrected with the greatest difficulty.

It is not only a person’s negative conscious qualities that are projected outward in this way, but in equal measure, his positive ones. The projection of the latter then brings about an excessive delusory, inappropriate evaluation and admiration of the object. It is possible for a person to infect others with his paranoid idea and for a sizeable group to take up the erroneous judgment, until another group finally sets the matter straight. Witch hunts as examples of negative projections or the veneration of a dictator as a saviour-hero as an example of positive projections, are witnesses to the existence of the phenomenon of collective contagion. Whole groups can project collectively, so that their mistake in judgment passes officially for the acceptable description of reality.

Freud: Mother Complex and Transference

Medusa – Arnold Böcklin

Freud believed that the true and false impressions received by a child in his earliest experiences of his parents and siblings, play a role in later projections. For example, a child who has experienced his father or mother in a specifically negative form, tends to project the same father or mother image onto older men or women he meets in later life.

A mother complex is an active component in everyone’s psyche, which includes one’s personal mother, contact with other women and by collective assumptions. A negative mother complex makes it impossible to have an unprejudiced experience of other people. Such a negative reaction lives on, stored up in the depths of the psyche, and is projected onto others at a suitable opportunity.

Another important phenomenon that Freud conceptualised is transference, where a person unconsciously projects the feelings for another person to an entirely different person. The difference from projection is that transference requires three people. For example, transferring feelings about one’s parents to one’s partner or mistrusting somebody who resembles an ex-spouse in manners, voice, or external appearance. This is a typical phenomenon in therapy, and one the analyst must be aware of, lest he engages in counter-transference, which may harm the relationship between analyst and analysand.

Carl Jung on Projection

Carl Jung

Many suffer from the fact that they do not take into consideration the manifestations of the unconscious in human beings. Carl Jung, the founder of analytical psychology, writes that:

“A man who is unconscious of himself acts in a blind, instinctive way and is in addition fooled by all the illusions that arise when he sees everything that he is not conscious of in himself coming to meet him from outside as projections upon his neighbour.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 13: Alchemical Studies

The same unconscious from which projections emanate, also strives, in certain phases of inner development, to correct them, through dreams or active imagination. Thus, in addition to the common sense judgment of the collectivity, there is an inner factor in the individual himself that tends to correct his image of reality from time to time.

“What Freud calls ‘the dream façade’ is the dream’s obscurity, and this is really only a projection of our own lack of understanding. We say that the dream has a false front only because we fail to see into it.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 16: Practice of Psychotherapy

Unless we are possessed of an unusual degree of self-awareness, we shall never see through our projections, but must always succumb to them. Because the mind, in its natural state, presupposes the existence of such projections.

Jung further elaborated the idea of projection in terms of the concept of the shadow and the anima and animus.

Jung: Shadow Projection

Hypnosis – Schneider

The shadow plays a crucial role in projection, both personally and collectively. I have talked about this concept more in-depth in another video.

As we repress the things we despise in ourselves and refuse to acknowledge them, they remain buried in the psyche and form the shadow, which is essentially what one has no wish to be. We then project like puppets pulled by the strings of the unconscious. Jung writes:

“The effect of projection is to isolate the subject from his environment, since instead of a real relation to it there is now only an illusory one. Projections change the world into the replica of one’s own unknown face. In the last analysis, therefore, they lead to an autoerotic or autistic condition in which one dreams a world whose reality remains forever unattainable… The more projections are thrust in between the subject and the environment, the harder it is for the ego to see through its illusions. A forty-five-year-old patient who had suffered from a compulsion neurosis since he was twenty and had become completely cut off from the world once said to me: “But I can never admit to myself that I’ve wasted the best twenty-five years of my life!” It is often tragic to see how blatantly a man bungles his own life and the lives of others yet remains totally incapable of seeing how much the whole tragedy originates in himself, and how he continually feeds it and keeps it going. Not consciously, of course—for consciously he is engaged in bewailing and cursing a faithless world that recedes further and further into the distance. Rather, it is an unconscious factor which spins the illusions that veil his world. And what is being spun is a cocoon, which in the end will completely envelop him.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol 9. Part II: Aion

With considerable effort, however, we can integrate the contents of the shadow in our personality, and become partly conscious of it. This is a lifelong process, and is indispensable for individuation (becoming who you are).

The reason it is so difficult to acquire insight into one’s own shadow is that inferior personality traits are mostly of an emotional nature. Emotions and affects are to a large extent relatively autonomous; they possess consciousness and can only with great difficulty be controlled. If it is not only one’s own shadow that stands behind the projections but also the contrasexual components of the personality, or perhaps still deeper archetypal contents, then insight into the projection in which these are involved is accompanied by almost insuperable difficulties.

Jung compares the personal shadow with the collective shadow:

“With a little self-criticism one can see through the shadow — so far as its nature is personal. But when it appears as an archetype, one encounters the same difficulties as with anima and animus. In other words, it is quite within the bounds of possibility for a man to recognise the relative evil of his nature, but it is a rare and shattering experience for him to gaze into the face of absolute evil.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol 9. Part II: Aion

Jung: Anima and Animus Projection

The Great Red Dragon and the Woman clothed with the Sun – William Blake

While the shadow is always of the same sex as the subject, when we talk of the opposite sex, the source of projections take the form of a contrasexual figure: the anima (the female psychological tendencies in man) and the animus (the male psychological tendencies in woman). I have done a video explaining these concepts as well.

Jung calls shadow integration the ‘apprentice-piece’, while anima or animus integration is the ‘master-piece’. This is in the context of individuation. Without a recognition of the shadow, it is impossible to integrate the anima or animus.

While the shadow represents first and foremost the personal unconscious, the anima and animus represent the collective unconscious. They symbolise the eternal images of man and woman, of Logos and Eros, which are projected onto real men and women.

A man can project his anima by overvaluing his masculine aspect in detriment to his feminine qualities, by partaking in pseudo-intellectual dialogues, and by treating woman simply as an object to fulfil his erotic fantasies, or to make stereotypical assumptions about patterns of behaviour such as “the way women are”.

There can also be an overattachment to one’s anima which is just as harmful, such as a man that is too effeminate and is preyed upon by women, or a man who lives regressively and seeks to return to his childhood under the protecting circle of the mother.

Perhaps the most common form of anima projection is being suddenly seized in a maddening and passionate love, like Eros, the Greek god of love shooting a love-igniting arrow. If those sensual pleasures fail the person who desires and wishes for them, he will suffer, pierced by the arrow of pain.

The projection of the animus of woman takes on a slightly different form. It takes on a hidden conviction about one’s beliefs, thoughts and assumptions. Such as wanting love but at the same time not believing anyone loves her. The father endows his daughter with unarguable true opinions, of “the right thing to do”, not including the daughter’s own opinion. This may lead a woman to flee into a dreamy fantasy land filled with all the desires and judgments of how things ought to be. Moreover, the animus personifies all the cold and destructive reflections that invade a woman which get her into a state where she even wishes death to others.

A mother who neglects her spiritual side may compensate by expecting an achievement from her son, such as having him pursue an ambitious academic career in order to satisfy her unconscious expectation.

Many people are brought back to themselves through the loving appreciation of another person. The teacher or the therapist who gives credit to his pupil or patient through the expectation of positive results can often nurture a blossoming of the other’s real personality and gifts. One day, though, this projection naturally falls away, and then it must be proven whether one can withdraw his projection and remain himself even without such help. This transition can be managed with the necessary wisdom, and awareness of one’s psychic reality.

Projection and Projectile

The Triumph of Galatea – Raphael

Whenever projection takes place, there is first of all a sender and a receiver. One of the oldest ways of symbolising projection is by means of projectiles, especially the magic arrow or shot that harms other people. It is generally believed that such a projectile is shot by a god, spirit, demon or some other mythological being, or by an evil person, and that it “hits” us, causing us to fall ill. The symbol of the arrow is a visual expression of being suddenly hit by a mood or an emotion that often strikes one like lightning out of a blue sky.

In late antiquity the suspicion had already arisen that certain gods might have something to do with the way in which emotions work in human beings, a view that was especially furthered by astrological speculations. Thus Saturn has something to do with a melancholy turn of mind, Mars with aggression and initiative, Venus and Cupid with love and sexuality – all states of mind or moods that strike people suddenly and overwhelmingly and for a time can overpower the conscious ego.

These phenomena are projections from the background of the psyche, autonomous inner images obeying no conscious intention, but coming and going at their own volition. Jung described these as archetypes, collectively-inherited forms that produce similar thoughts, mythological images, feelings, and emotions in human beings. These represent the spiritual contents of the unconscious, while the animal instinct, those impulses to action that are characteristic of the human species, represent the instinctual aspect of the unconscious.

Ultimately, however, it appears that projections always originate in the archetypes and in unconscious complexes.

An attack of aggressive hatred, for example, is felt by us as coming not from Mars but rather from an “evil adversary” who “deserves” to be hated (shadow projection), erotic passion not from Cupid but from a woman who arouses this passion in a man (anima projection).

The harmful words of human beings are like arrows. Deceitful people bend their tongue like a bow, and shoot a deadly arrow. Such activities as we learn from practical psychological experience are triggered by negative projections.

As soon as a person projects a bit of his shadow onto another human being, he is incited to this kind of rancorous speech. The words that hit the other person like projectiles symbolise the negativity directed against the other person by the one who is projecting.

When one becomes the target of another person’s negative projection, one often experiences that hatred almost physically as a projectile.

Active and passive projection

Narcissus – John William Waterhouse

Jung distinguishes between two kinds of projection: active and passive.

Active projection occurs when we thoughtlessly take for granted that the other person is like us and that what is valid for us is also valid for him, so that we feel justified in “improving” him, that is, in violating him psychologically. Jung writes:

“Just as we tend to assume that the world is as we see it, we naively suppose that people are as we imagine them to be… We still go on naively projecting our own psychology into our fellow human beings. In this way, everyone creates in himself a series of more or less imaginary relationships based essentially on projection.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 8: The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche

Passive projection includes an act of empathetic feeling, which serves to bring the object into an intimate relationship with the subject. In order to establish this relationship, the subject detaches a content – a feeling, for instance, lodges it in the object, thereby animating it, and in this way draws the object into the sphere of the subject. All compassion is grounded in this kind of unconscious identity with the others.

Passive projection—that is, unconscious empathy—is part of the psychological principle of Eros and forms the basis of all social relations; active projection, on the other hand, belongs to the realm of Logos, since it is concerned with an act of recognition or judgment, by means of which we make a distinction between ourselves and the—itself unknown—object. Both principles can in practice flow into and out of each other.

Introjection

Cry of the Masses – Josef Váchal

Passive projection is similar to what is known as introjection, the assimilation of object to subject. The difference is that introjection is not necessarily empathetic, it may also arise from a need of respect, power or superiority.

Introjection can be defined as unconsciously adopting the thoughts and behaviours of other people (instead of projecting them onto others). This is a natural process of a child’s development and relationship with his parents. One naturally introjects the qualities of those whom one looks up to, admires or worships. This may, however, include the bad aspects of a person, or lead to a superiority complex to the point of introjecting the qualities of God onto oneself.

Mystical participation

Lévy-Bruhl

The French ethnologist Lévy-Bruhl used the term participation mystique or “mystical participation”, the archaic identity of subject and object lives at the very bottom of our psyche.

We are instinctively tied to symbols that precedes all intellectualism. Our ancestors were much more governed by their unconscious instincts and participation in nature and the objects surrounding them. The inner world was merged with the external world. It is only a recent phenomenon that our world seems to be cleansed of all superstitious and irrational elements. However, this is not so for the inner world, which does not discriminate between subject and object. Jung writes:

“[O]nly certain functions and areas have outgrown the primary mystic identity with the object. Primitive man has a minimum of self-awareness combined with a maximum of attachment to the object; hence the object can exercise a direct magical compulsion upon him… Self-awareness gradually developed out of this initial state of identity and went hand in hand with the differentiation of subject and object… But as everyone knows, our self-awareness is still a long way behind our actual knowledge.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 8: The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche

Mystical participation is closely related to projection, because the projected mythological images are present in objects, people and situations.

Thought forms, universally understandable gestures, and many attitudes follow a pattern that was established long before man developed a reflective consciousness. It is conceivable that the early origins of man’s capacity to reflect come from the painful consequences of violent emotional clashes. For example, a bushman who in a moment of anger and disappointment at his failure to catch any fish, strangles his much beloved only son, and is then seized with immense regret as he holds the little dead body in his arms.

Modern man knows more about mythological symbolism than did any generation before our own, they have become the object of conscious reflection. Primitive man did not reflect upon their symbols, they lived them and were unconsciously animated by their meaning.

Unconscious contents, however, cannot be integrated into the subject into their entirety. The process is like that of peeling an onion – one or more layers of an unconscious complex can, indeed, be integrated by the conscious personality but not the core itself.

In the core we find the archetypes of the collective unconscious, which create projections against our will, because such contents cannot be integrated by ego-consciousness. If one wants to understand these projections and prevent their renewal, the content must be recognised as psychically real, though not as a part of the subject but rather as an autonomous power. If we could see through all our projections down to the last traces, our personality would be extended to cosmic dimensions.

Jung once compared the ego to a man who sails out in his boat (the philosophical or religious ideas behind his conscious view of the world) onto the sea of the unconscious to go fishing. He must take care not to haul more fish (that is, more unconscious contents) from the sea into his boat than the boat can carry, or it will sink. This explains why people with weak egos often defend themselves so desperately against any and every insight into their negative projections – they cannot bear the weight, the moral pressure, that results from such insight.

Psychological Projection as Inner Gold

Jungian analyst Robert A. Johnson

“I learn so much from watching, and one of the things I observe most carefully is the exchange of inner, alchemical gold. Inner gold is the highest value in the human psyche. It is our soul, the Self, the innermost part of our being.”

Robert A. Johnson, Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection

In his book Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection, Jungian analyst Robert A. Johnson presents psychological projection as giving up our “inner gold” to those whom we idealise or are attracted to. He writes:

“When we awaken to a new possibility in our lives, we often see it first in another person. A part of us that has been hidden is about to emerge, but it doesn’t go in a straight line from our unconscious to becoming conscious. It travels by way of an intermediary, a host. We project our gold onto someone, and suddenly we’re consumed with that person. The first inkling of this is when the other person appears to be so luminous that he (or she) glows in the dark. That’s a sure sign that something is changing in us and we are projecting our gold onto the other person.”

Robert A. Johnson, Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection

By observing the things we attribute to the other person, we see our own depth and meaning. Our gold goes first from us to them, and eventually it will come back to us. Projecting our inner gold offers us the best chance for an advance in consciousness. And we must learn the arduous task of “taking back” this gold as we move through life’s journey.

The work of the alchemists was to transmute base metals into gold. There were charlatans only concerned with material possession. However, for the true alchemists, gold is the metaphor for the spiritual and psychological task of inner transformation.

When we see that we have given our spiritual gold to someone to hold for us, there are several ways we might respond. We could go to him or her and say, “The meaning of my life has suddenly appeared in the glow in your eyes. May I tell you about it?” This is another way of saying, “I have given you my inner gold. Will you carry it for me for a while?”

We cling to people who are the repositories of our gold and won’t let them loose. If this person were to you leave you, and you can’t function properly alone – it probably means that he or she has taken your gold.

The exchange of gold is a mysterious process. It is our gold, but it’s too heavy for us, so we need someone else to carry it for a time. That person becomes synonymous with meaning. A smile can raise us to heavenly heights, a frown will hurl us to hellish depths, so great is the power of meaning.

One reason we hesitate to carry our own gold is that it is dangerously close to God. Our gold has Godlike characteristics, and it is difficult to bear the weight of it. This is the original meaning of the terms godfather and godmother. That person is the carrier of Godlike qualities for you, someone who carries the subtle part of your life—a parent in an interior, Godlike way.

Robert tells the story of one of his patients who would compliment him every time they saw each other. Robert would tell him, all these qualities are your values. You need to drape it around my neck for a while, but you’re going to take it back eventually. He’d tell Robert how valuable he was to him, how lucky he was to have him as a therapist. He was talking about his inner gold and was desperate for someone to take it off his shoulders, for it was too heavy for him. This went on for almost five years. Robert writes:

“Then, one day, he said, “I want my gold back.” I had noticed that he was getting restless, so I agreed. “Things are changing”, I said. “Let’s do a ceremony to put the gold back in your pocket.” I conjured up a small piece of gold, the size of a pea, and a few days later we had the ceremony. He held the kernel of gold, shaking, suddenly more aware of what he had been doing. Then he put it in my hands and said, anxiously, “Suppose you don’t give it back?” … I said, “This is your gold, and it belongs only in your pocket. I am honoured that you would allow me to hold it for you all these years. But it’s yours, and it needs to go back to you.” … The next day, he had his gold all over me again. He couldn’t hold it and wanted me to take it back. The exchange of gold is not entirely a voluntary matter. Sometimes it takes a few round trips. We traded the gold back and forth several more times until one day he could withstand it. Since then, I haven’t heard any more about him wanting it back.”

Robert A. Johnson, Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection

When the exchange of gold proceeds well, we mature and eventually become strong enough to ask for our gold back. Carrying someone’s gold is a fine art and a high responsibility. If you are the recipient of someone’s gold, hold it carefully and be prepared to give it back within a microsecond’s notice. Unfortunately, there are people who collect inner gold and refuse to give it back. It’s a kind of murder.

It is only after you get your gold back that you can see the gold of the other person. When the time is right, when you are ready to bear the weight, you must get your gold back.

“If it has an impact, it means there is a war inside me. You set it off, but what you set off is my business. Anything that can burn in a person should burn. Only the things that are fireproof are worth keeping. If you can hurt my feelings, they are better off hurt, because it’s an error in me.”

Robert A. Johnson, Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection

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Source

https://eternalisedofficial.com/2022/06/09/psychological-projection/


Wednesday, June 21, 2023

Only in my pain

 Only in my pain

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Only in my pain,

did I find my will.

Only in my chaos,

did I learn to be still.


Only in my fear,

did I find my might.

Only in my darkness,

did I see my light.


-~ Unknown

Monday, June 19, 2023

The Psychology of The Wounded Healer

The Psychology of The Wounded Healer

One must be wounded to become a healer. Many people, however, experience suffering and do not become healers; practically everyone could become a healer if it depended only on the experience of suffering. It is only by overcoming suffering and having been wounded that one may become a healer.

We have to follow the way of our psychological maturation to discover the reason for our suffering, because the reason is something unique in each individual. That is why in seeking the meaning of your suffering you seek the meaning of your life.

“[T]he wounded healer is the archetype of the Self – one of its most widespread features – and is at the bottom of all genuine healing procedures.”

Marie-Louise von Franz, Puer Aeternus

Swiss psychologist Carl Jung is credited with coining the phrase wounded healer, but this term is never used by him in his works¸ instead he used “wounded physician”. Jung did not see himself as someone who had accomplished the healing of his patients. The healing is an individual affair which must emerge from the patient’s own psyche, in order for there to be a resolution to the problem, which is precisely what the term individuation implies. The cure ought to grow naturally out of the wounded individual, one must find the light that is hidden within the darkness.

As long as we feel victimised, bitter and resentful towards our wound, and seek to escape from suffering it, we remain inescapably bound to it. This is neurotic suffering, as opposed to the authentic suffering of the wounded healer which is purified. The wound can destroy you, or it can wake you up.

Chiron: The Wounded Healer

Chiron and Achilles – J.B. Regnault (Lithograph)

The Greek god Apollo is a sunlike healer who can cure all ills, but is also the bringer of disease and death with his arrows. He is the unwounded healer. Apollo raised Chiron, who is a centaur, half human, and half horse, but unlike the rest of centaurs who were wild and intoxicated, Chiron was wise, just, and also immortal. He became a skilled healer. One day, however, Chiron was accidentally wounded by a poisoned arrow. But despite being skilled in healing the wounds of others, he was unable to heal his own wound. He suffered excruciating pain for the rest of his life. It was because of his grievous wound that Chiron became known as a legendary healer in ancient Greece. The secret of healing is inside the wound, which contains the medicine. True health comes from acceptance of our wounds.  

Chiron’s nobility is further reflected in the story of his death. He exchanged his immortality for the life of Prometheus, who had been punished by the Gods for stealing fire and giving it to mankind, that is, gave us consciousness, freeing us from being unconscious puppets of the gods. Consciousness is deeply traumatic, but it is also the greatest gift we have been given.

Chiron suffered the punishment meant for Prometheus, and Zeus seeing this, pitied him. In his honour, Chiron was given a place in the stars, becoming the constellation Centaurus. Chiron represents our immortal wound that can never heal, and at the same time, he is the potential source of our greatest capacity to heal, particularly other people.

Christ is the biblical version of the same fundamental image. The difference is that Chiron had no choice in the matter because the wound happens to him and he cannot heal himself; Christ volunteered for the role, and could have escaped from his suffering, but did not. Both are healers, both are wounded, and both transcend to the heavens at the end. This image is to be distinguished from the healthy healer – Apollo, Chiron before the wound caused by the poisoned arrow, and Christ before his crucifixion. The wounded healer combines both the healthy and the suffering. This is what Saint Paul meant by the “thorn in his flesh”

Asclepius: The Greek God of Healing

Asclepius with his serpent-entwined staff; Archaeological Museum of Epidaurus

Chiron was highly revered as a teacher and instructed Asclepius in the arts of medicine, who became the Greek god of healing. Asclepius was the son of a mortal woman named Coronis, whom Apollo had fallen in love with. However, while she was pregnant, she displayed infidelity by sleeping with a mortal man. She was killed for her betrayal, and Apollo was unable to bring her back to life. As she lay on her funeral pyre, Apollo rescued the child by cutting him from her womb, thus Asclepius is born – saved from death, so that he might grow up to heal others.

He holds the Rod of Asclepius, a snake-entwined staff associated with healing, which remains a symbol of medicine to this day. This is not to be confused with the caduceus (a symbol of commerce) of the Greek deity Hermes, which is entwined by two snakes, and sometimes has wings too.

Statue of Hermes wearing the petasos and a voyager’s cloak, and carrying the caduceus and a purse. Roman copy after a Greek original (Vatican Museums)

Our woundedness can put us into a miserable state of suffering and pain, or it can be a source of healing. The wounded healer refers to the capacity:

“[T]o be at home in the darkness of suffering and there to find germs of light and recovery with which, as though by enchantment, to bring forth Asclepius, the sunlike healer.”

Karl Kerényi, Asclepius: Archetypal Image of the Physician’s Existence

Asclepius became such a proficient healer that he was able to bring other mortal men back to life. This caused an abundance of human beings on earth, and Hades, the god of the underworld, complained to his brother Zeus about it. Zeus became angry at Asclepius for transgressing the boundary between humanity and the gods. Men are mortal, and only the gods are free from death. In punishment for his crime, he struck Asclepius with a thunderbolt and sent him to Hades. So that he, though a god, might himself experience the fate of mortals. Later, however, he was resurrected and given a place on Mount Olympus, the home of the gods. Asclepius becomes the only god to experience death, making him one of the most admired, loved, and worshipped deities of the Greeks.

Asclepieia: Healing Temples

The heart of the Epidaurus sanctuary. The Tholos and the Abaton (left) and the Temple of Asclepius (center right) – DeAgostini

In ancient Greece, there were healing temples dedicated to Asclepius called asclepieia, known to cure people of all sorts of physical and spiritual illness. Among the most popular was the one located in Epidaurus, the most celebrated healing centre of the classical world. Many pilgrims would visit the temple and have a cleansing diet, as well as a bath thought to have a positive effect on the body and the soul. Health, cleanliness, and sanitation are all aspects of the goddess Hygieia, whose name is the source for the word “hygiene” and who is one of the daughters of Asclepius.

The Therapeutae of Asclepius would guide the patients. The term therapeute derives from ancient Greek, and refers to one who serves the gods, and later on, one who heals or helps a person to heal himself – which is precisely the task of a therapist. After a few days of preparation, the therapeute would lead the sick person to a small empty stone chamber with a platform in which he could lay down and sleep, left alone with his dreams and with the god.

This is theurgical work, that is, a practice consisting of working with God, rather than theology, or talking with God. The idea was to achieve theophany, a personal encounter with a deity. Many dreams describe Asclepius appearing in his human-like form and seen applying an ointment to the afflicted parts, or theriomorphically as a snake or as a dog, licking the wound and thus healing it.

In the dormitories of the temple, snakes slithered around freely on the floor. For the Greeks, snakes were not just chthonic beings, but also sacred beings of wisdom, healing, and resurrection. The snakes used were non-venomous, now known as the Aesculapian snakes, named in honour of the god of healing.

The snake was seen as emblematic of the mysterious relationship between death and rebirth. Dogs too were associated with underworld experience, like the three-headed Cerberus welcoming the dead to Hades.

After spending the night in the holiest place of the sanctuary, the patient’s dream would simply be recorded.  If Asclepius appeared in one’s dream, it was understood as the healing event itself. Unlike in Delphi, where the oracle who would give prophetic advice to the seekers through God, at Epidaurus it was the patient who had the healing vision. In the classical Greek period, the dream was the cure. At a later period, however, dreams and visions would be reported to a therapeute who would prescribe the appropriate healing process, including a visit to the baths, or gymnasium. One might say that it was the first psychotherapeutic centre.

The final rituals consisted of a paean, a song of praise to the god in gratitude for what he had given to the patient, and finally there would be a sacrifice of a rooster as a token that daylight has overcome the dark, health has overcome sickness. These methods were known to be highly effective as is evident by numerous written accounts by patients attesting to their healing and providing detailed accounts of their cure.

This ties in with Socrates’ enigmatic last words when he decided to take his own life by drinking hemlock: “Crito, we owe a cock to Asclepius. Pay it and do not neglect it.” Socrates invokes the only god known to revive the dead, thanking him for healing him of the sickness of life by the cure of death. Socrates lives right into his death.

The healing of Asclepius provides a respite to those who are not yet ready for death. He gives time for us to attend to the health of our souls, and to prepare for the inevitability that lies ahead. Death is the great equaliser. Asclepius does not promise that there won’t be death, the point of healing is to give one time to prepare for death.

“There was a crown on the colossal head of Asclepius… A golden wreath always represents rays and symbolises the sunlike. Such an honour, even if legendary, bears witness to what in the living religion of Asclepius constituted the nature of the Asclepiad, the true physician. For the medical gift that the Asclepiads held they had inherited from their solar ancestor is a very special gift: it is neither a religious nor a philosophical knowledge… but is rather a familiarity, which can never be acquired, with sickness and the process of recovery. It is a spark of intuitive knowledge about the possibilities of rising from the depths, a spark which by observation, practice, and training can be fanned into a high art and science: into a true art of healing.”

Karl Kerényi, Asclepius: Archetypal Image of the Physician’s Existence

Illness and healing are not opposites, but rather inseparable aspects of a deeper process that is being revealed through their interplay. The sunlike healer, symbolises that, just like the self-generating light of the sun, the ultimate source of our healing is to be found within ourselves.

The Importance of Death

The Garden of Death – Hugo Simberg

For Friedrich Nietzsche, a natural death is not to be mourned, but celebrated. He writes:

“Many die too late, and some die too early. The doctrine still sounds strange: “Die at the right time!”… To be sure, how could the person who never lives at the right time ever die at the right time? Would that he were never born! – Thus I advise the superfluous… Everyone regards dying as important; but death is not yet a festival. As of yet people have not learned how to consecrate the most beautiful festivals. I show you the consummating death that becomes a goad and a promise to the living. The consummated one dies his death, victorious, surrounded by those who hope and promise. Thus one should learn to die; and there should be no festival where such a dying person does not swear oaths to the living!”

Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

The Greeks believed that old age was not a life stage but a stage of transition between life and death. For Jung, it is part of the second half of life, and is psychologically as important as birth. The denial of death only leads to further neurosis, death is inevitable and to fight against it is to fight against life itself.

Just as a young person needs to learn to live, an old person has to come to terms with death, and for that, one must have a personal myth, which is created by observing our inner life through dreams, active imagination, intuitions, and synchronicities. Jung writes:

“Death is an important interest, especially to an aging person. A categorical question is being put to him, and he is under an obligation to answer it. To this end he ought to have a myth about death, for reason shows him nothing but the dark pit into which he is descending. Myth, however, can conjure up other images for him, helpful and enriching pictures of life in the land of the dead. If he believes in them, or greets them with some measure of credence, he is being just as right or just as wrong as someone who does not believe in them. But while the man who despairs marches toward nothingness, the one who has placed his faith in the archetype follows the tracks of life and lives right into his death. Both, to be sure, remain in uncertainty, but the one lives against his instincts, the other with them.”

Carl Jung: Memories, Dreams, Reflections

Jung’s entire psychology is predicated on the existence of psychic oppositions in the human psyche. It is the tension of opposites that gives rise to our wholeness, the enantiodromic principle of the union of opposites carves a path to the Self.

There are two phases in life: the first phase in which we are oriented outwardly, and the second phase in which our focus shifts inward during midlife. Individuation is a reconciliation of both inner and outer life.

“The actual processes of individuation—the conscious coming-to-terms with one’s own inner centre (psychic nucleus) or Self—generally begins with a wounding of the personality and the suffering that accompanies it. This initial shock amounts to a sort of “call,” although it is not often recognised as such.”

Man and His Symbols. Part III: The Process of Individuation – M.L. von Franz

We need to learn from our own experiences of being wounded, to release ourselves from what may be the most serious illness of all, the fantasy of a health without wounds, a life without death.

The Wound as Initiation: Hero’s Journey

Ego – Ángel Alonso

Those with a healing career end up profoundly wounded or even die as is shown in the stories of Chiron, Asclepius and Christ. It is a given that if one enters into the role of healer, at some point one will be severely wounded.

To become individuated is no easy task, it is a very painful process, equivalent to bearing our own cross as Christ did on his way to being crucified. The wound is our initiation into our fragmented self, it is the call to adventure that begins the hero’s journey.

“The hero’s main feat is to overcome the monster of darkness: it is the long-hoped-for and expected triumph of consciousness over the unconscious.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 9.1: Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

When the hero overcomes the monster, he finds the treasure, the princess, the elixir of life, etc., which are psychological metaphors for one’s true feelings and unique potential. Jung wrote:

“In myths the hero is the one who conquers the dragon, not the one who is devoured by it. And yet both have to deal with the same dragon. Also, he is no hero who never met the dragon, or who, if he once saw it, declared afterwards that he saw nothing. Equally, only one who has risked the fight with the dragon and is not overcome by it wins the hoard, the “treasure hard to attain.” He alone has a genuine claim to self-confidence, for he has faced the dark ground of his self and thereby has gained himself… He has acquired the right to believe that he will be able to overcome all future threats by the same means.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 14: Mysterium Coniunctionis

The mythologist Joseph Campbell expanded on Jung’s ideas with his popular conception of the hero’s journey, which is not just a story but a deeply embedded myth that explains the human condition.

The call to adventure occurs when we are separated from our ordinary world of comfort and must tread into unknown and dangerous territory, and that causes anxiety. This often leads to refusal, which slowly deteriorates one’s life and relationships. There comes a point where the wounds become too much to bear, and one must tend to them.

Going through our wound is a genuine death experience, as our old self “dies” in the process, while a new, more expansive and empowered self is born.

The Sacred and The Profane

Mircea Eliade

In his book, The Sacred and The Profane: The Nature of Religion, Romanian historian of religion Mircea Eliade describes the sacred and the profane as two existential situations assumed by mankind throughout history. From the perspective of religious thought, the manifestation of the sacred (hierophany) is what gives meaning, structure, and orientation to the world.

The sacred is akin to the Platonic world of forms, which exist beyond space and time. It is the home of the universal, the immortal, and the eternal. The profane, on the other hand, contains everything concrete, mortal, and temporal. Since it is a place of constant becoming, it is a place of decay and death.

Eliade uses the term archetype (not to be confused with Jung’s definition) to express the manifestations of the sacred, which we gain access to by repetition, imitation, and participation in the divine patterns. Religious behaviour does not only commemorate, but also participates in, sacred events. Our ancestors interacted with the sacred, because without it, man is nothing but dust and ashes. However, the sacred also produces a feeling of terror before its awe-inspiring mystery (mysterium tremendum), and religious fear before the fascinating mystery (mysterium fascinans) in which perfect fullness of being flowers. These are all numinous experiences, induced by the revelation of the divine.

“To whatever degree he may have desacralised the world, the man who has made his choice in favour of a profane life never succeeds in completely doing away with his religious behaviour.”

Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and The Profane

Celebrations and rituals depict the idea of what Eliade calls the eternal return, that is, a reconnection with the mythical age. This behaviour is still emotionally present with us, in one form or another, ready to be reactualised in our deepest being.

Each year becomes a repetition of the mythical age, and we can step into the divine realm, transporting us back to the world of origins. Time is not a linear succession of events, but a circle. Linear time, and the lack of any inherent value on the march of historical events (the terror of history), is one of the reasons for modern man’s anxieties.

The Wound as Initiation: Shamanism

The Ancestor of the North – Susan Seddon Boulet

Eliade describes sicknesses, dreams, and ecstasies as a shamanic initiation, which is not resolved until one transforms the profane into the sacred. Eliade makes it clear that shamanism is not any kind of mental disease, but rather a temporal crisis that expresses the human condition.

In shamanic initiations the initiate often experiences an illness of some type which is not resolved until the individual practices shamanic exercises such as drumming and chanting until he is cured. He is then regarded as a shaman in the community and has the role of a healer.

“The primitive magician, the medicine man or shaman is not only a sick man, he is above all, a sick man who has been cured, who has succeeded in curing himself.”

Mircea Eliade, Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy

Accounts of the shaman’s inner journey of turmoil and distress, expressed through the ecstatic action of trance, reveals the venerated images of the awakened psyche, living symbols that encompass the wider human experience. Through creative expression, the human condition is elevated, mythologised, and, at last, collectively understood.

The lifeway of the shaman is nearly as old as human consciousness itself, predating the earliest recorded civilisations by thousands of years. A common thread seems to connect all shamans across the planet. An awakening to other orders of reality, the experience of ecstasy, and an opening up of visionary realms. The entrance to the other world occurs through the action of total disruption, a crisis involving a psychological and spiritual death. There are many similarities between these archaic rituals and the experience people undergo in psychotherapy.

Compensatory function

A Dead Poet Being Carried by a Centaur – Gustave Moreau

Often people embark on a helping profession because they want to address their personal wounds: dysfunctional childhood, abuse, inferiority complex, etc., in order to heal themselves and help others with their own healing processes. Psychologically, we all have a compensatory function in our lives. A person who has a lack of self-worth, may appear outwardly to be very confident. A person who thinks he is not smart, may spend a long time reading books and acquiring a vast wealth of knowledge, and at every opportunity, expresses this knowledge to others. Our feelings of inferiority are part of the shadow, and the persona (our social mask which we present to others) is our compensation for what is lying in our shadow. An overcompensation can cause someone to act in complete opposition to what he feels emotionally, and thus he conceals his true self. His problems are repressed and never faced constructively, and the shadow grows larger and darker.

Repetition Compulsion

Primitive Man – Odilon Redon

A traumatic and abusive childhood can cause what Freud calls repetition compulsion, an unconscious need to repeat traumatic events, which shows up in different situations, but has the same underlying archetypal pattern. This can extend to all sorts of relationships in one’s life: with one’s parents, friends, partner, children, etc. Every repetition, makes the problem worse and more complex. Our unconscious tries to heal us by reconstellating (re-activating) these situations as an opportunity to come into a new relationship with the underlying pattern, to convert the poison into healing.

Pharmakon: Poison and Cure

Journey of the Wounded Healer – Alex Grey

The contradictory opposites of poison and cure is expressed in the Greek word pharmakon, a drug can be both beneficial and harmful. The wounded healer is one who takes his wounds seriously, and transforms his poison into a gift to bestow upon others. This applies to the relationship between therapist and patient too. Jung wrote:

“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 loss, 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.”

Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 16: The Practice of Psychotherapy

Therapist as Wounded Healer

Lynx – Peter Birkhäuser

Freud and Jung were modern wounded healers. Freud in the last sixteen years of his life, was tormented unceasingly by his cancer of the jaw, until it lead to his death. Jung was on the brink of taking his own life in his period of the confrontation with his unconscious. A month before his death, too frail for his daily walk, Jung was driven around some of his favourite roads, saying goodbye to the countryside. Despite their suffering, they continued to write and practise, transmuting their poison into a healing potion, like true alchemists.

However, it is not just the therapist alone who does the healing. It is common for the patient to project onto the analyst the image of the healer, and when there is no progress, the patient gets angry and perhaps leaves therapy, and eventually comes back again. This is known as transference and is a typical phenomenon in therapy. The patient can, for instance, unconsciously transfer his feelings about his abusive father onto the analyst, and the analyst must be careful not to engage in countertransference, in which the patient reminds the analyst of someone in his or her life.

The analyst has to be prepared to not project his wounds on the already wounded patient. They must develop a clear map of their wounds, in which they are able to describe their experiences of being wounded, how they felt during their vulnerable period, and how they dealt with it. Our wounds can become a wellspring of healing for another.

“The doctor is effective only when he himself is affected. Only the wounded physician heals.”

Carl Jung: Memories, Dreams, Reflections

The analyst takes the suffering of the patient, shares it with him, and suffers with him. This has a healing effect, just as the suffering of Christ is mysteriously curative for others, “by his wounds we are healed.”

Jung learned through his practice that only the analyst who feels himself deeply affected by his patients could heal, and the analyst cannot take the patient to a place the analyst has never been. This is not only a matter of empathy but of knowledge (“gnosis”) of what soul work is and how it matters. At some point, the patient must also realise that the potential for healing resides within himself or herself. The analyst acts as a psychopomp or spiritual guide for the patient. It can be extremely helpful to have allies in order to defeat one’s dragon, which symbolises one’s fears, obstacles, hardships, or repressions. But, one must deal the final blow to the dragon oneself. Jung wrote:

“The crucial point is that I confront the patient as one human being to another. Analysis is a dialogue demanding two partners. Analyst and patient sit facing one another, eye to eye, the doctor has something to say, but so has the patient.”

Carl Jung: Memories, Dreams, Reflections

While the analyst performs the role of a healer, his wounds live a shadowy existence, and can be reconstellated in particular situations, especially when working with someone whose wounds are similar. The shadow of the wounded patient, on the other hand, is his inner healer.

Therefore, the unconscious relationship between analyst and analysand is as important as what is consciously communicated, in terms of the healing process. It can be a transformative experience for both people.

Healing can take place only if the analyst has an ongoing relationship with the unconscious. Otherwise, he or she may identify with the healer archetype, a common form of inflation. This is known as an Asclepius complex, where the therapist takes healing too far, just as Asclepius brought back people from the dead. The therapist believes he has god-like powers of healing, and that there’s no need for a personal relationship.

Jung had a dream in which his patient was a giant and he was very small. Dreams are often compensatory in nature, therefore, Jung realised that he had been looking down at the patient. When he adjusted his attitude, the relationship and the healing of the patient went much better. Jung always told his students that they must at all times keep watch over themselves, over the way they are reacting to their patient, and to be aware of not projecting their wounds on the wounded patient. Depth psychology is a dangerous profession, since the analyst is forever prone to being infected by the other’s wounds – or having his or her wounds reopened.

Jung viewed psychological conflicts, or emotional wounding not necessarily as a disease, but as an initiation into a process that opens us up to the unconscious. The archetype of the wounded healer is constellated through our wounds. Just as a physical wound needs to be cleaned, bandaged, and given the necessary time to heal – so too do psychological wounds need to be cured by removing negative influences, creating and maintaining an environment in which the healing can take place, and having the necessary patience to allow the natural energy to accomplish the work of growth and healing.

Conclusion

The Sun – Edvard Munch

The event of our wounding sends us on a journey in search of ourselves. It is a numinous event. Through our cracks is where the light comes in. Our fragmented self is the doorway into the transpersonal and archetypal realm, the master-pattern and ultimate guide in our lives, to the infinite wisdom of the Self.

It is an archetypal, universal idea that becoming broken, though on one hand seemingly obscuring our wholeness, is actually an expression of it. It is as if some form of destruction is a prerequisite for individuation and is necessary for the birth of the Self.

Suffering is collective, it can be taken as a sign that we are no longer suffering from ourselves, but rather from the spirit of the age. The microcosm and macrocosm are one and the same. Through transforming ourselves, we transform the world; through transforming the world, we transform ourselves. We are interdependent parts of a greater, all-embracing whole and holy being. To realise this is to have an expansion of consciousness.

The archetype of the wounded healer symbolises a type of consciousness that can hold the seemingly mutually exclusive and contradictory opposites of being consciously aware of both our woundedness and our wholeness at one and the same time.

“[T]he greatest and most important problems of life are all in a certain sense insoluble… They can never be solved, but only outgrown.”

Carl Jung, Commentary on The Secret of the Golden Flower

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Source
https://eternalisedofficial.com/2022/12/17/psychology-wounded-healer/