Direct interpretation of dreams: Typology

The dream typology assorts dreams into three major categories: dreams whose origin is endogenous, exogenous, or relational. Dreams of the first type arise from somatic needs, feelings, and states that accompany organismic adjustments to system requirements. Dreams of the second type are initiated by kinetic and dispositional tendencies toward engagement and exploration of the outer world. And dreams of the third type derive from interpersonal dispositions to interaction and relationship with other people. Within each category, dreams may occur at different levels of complexity. The dream typology permits the integration of psychoanalytic observations about the dreams from a variety of perspectives within a common framework. Freud's view that a dream is a wish fulfillment finds its primary niche in endogenous need, wish fulfillment, and convenience dreams. Kohut's observations about self-state dreams and inner regulation (1971, 1977) are accommodated to the middle range of endogenous dreams, and Jung's individuation dreams (1930) occupy the advanced range. Similarly, Bonime's interpersonal approach to dream interpretation (1962) is encompassed by relational dreams of the middle level. In addition, types and modes of dreams that are only infrequently encountered in clinical psychoanalysis are accommodated. The dream typology suggests that different psychoanalytic theories are like the position papers that might have derived from the fabled committee of learned blind who were commissioned to determine the appearance of an elephant. Each individual got a hold on some part, but could not see the whole; so for each, the part became the whole. The psychoanalytic theorist is in exactly an analogous position because, in fact, he is blind to the extent of the unconscious and is constrained to what he can infer. What he can infer depends on cohort, client population, and how he calibrates his observations. The result has been procrustean interpretation, dissention, and a remarkable stasis in the psychoanalytic theory of the unconscious. The theory of the unconscious that arises from the method of direct interpretation reflects a differentiated inner world with variegated landscapes of images and frameworks. The derivatives of the unconscious are determined by complex decision rules, symbol systems, and syntax. Images and dreams possess a primary autonomy from the conscious mind and arise through the configural mind, which serves the construction and synthesis of experience and knowledge. The derivatives emerge out of common human nature conjoined with concrete human experience. For this reason, dreams and images appear universal.(ABSTRACT TRUNCATED AT 400 WORDS)     

One Thousand Dreams

The dreams in Psychology and Alchemy were important to Jung because they portray a natural process in the unconscious in which the mandala symbolism gradually takes form, with emphasis on a centre. The dreamer is led through a labyrinth of archetypal symbolism which lays in evidence the dynamic structure of the psyche.
Jung was obviously not permitted to reveal the identity of the man behind the dreams. This paper introduces the historical dreamer, Wolfgang Pauli (1900-1958), together with a sample of his significant dreams as discussed by Jung. The intent is to bear witness to the suffering which hides behind the archetypal imagery, as well as the transformative power of the archetype, lending support to Jung's statement that 'behind every neurosis there is a religious problem'.
Pauli was a genius, who as a Nobel laureate ranked with the top physicists of this century. As a one-sided intellectual atheist alienated from his feelings, in his early thirties he met with an emotional crisis, which led him to Jung for treatment. The dreams that Pauli experienced at that time carried him through a depth experience, a nekyia, that transformed his attitude toward life. They were also a precursor to a dream life that stimulated his investigation of non-causal influences common to quantum physics and (analytical) psychology, i.e. the 'psychophysical problem', including synchronicity.
A legacy of Pauli's life was to show that the non-rational unconscious can give meaningful expression to the functioning of a scientific mind.     

What's true and whose idea was it?

In this paper, the author explores the idea that psychoanalysis at its core involves an effort on the part of patient and analyst to articulate what is true to an emotional experience in a form that is utilizable by the analytic pair for purposes of psychological change. Building upon the work of Bion, what is true to human emotional experience is seen as independent of the analyst's formulation of it. In this sense, we, as psychoanalysts, are not inventors of emotional truths, but participant observers and scribes. And yet, in the very act of thinking and giving verbally symbolic 'shape' to what we intuit to be true to an emotional experience, we alter that truth. This understanding of what is true underlies the analytic conception of the therapeutic action of interpretation: in interpreting, the analyst verbally symbolizes what he feels is true to the patient's unconscious experience and, in so doing, alters what is true and contributes to the creation of a potentially new experience with which the analytic pair may do psychological work. These ideas are illustrated in a detailed discussion of an analytic session. The analyst makes use of his reverie experience-for which both and neither of the members of the analytic pair may claim authorship-in his effort to arrive at tentative understandings of what is true to the patient's unconscious emotional experience at several junctures in the session.     

To Know Another Inside and Out: Linking Psychic and Somatic Experience in Eating Disorders

ABSTRACT

This article explores the role of the body in the psychoanalytic treatment of eating disorders from a relational and developmental perspective. Many who struggle with eating disorders and related issues have had early experiences that adversely affected the development of flexible, adaptive self-regulation, including the ability to experience affects as psychic states that can be safely shared in the context of a relationship. Because of their difficulty symbolizing and expressing feelings, patients with eating disorders often experience affects as somatic problems, for which they seek somatic solutions. Tuning in to patients’ bodily experience can open up pathways for accessing and, eventually, verbalizing and reflecting on internal states in the therapeutic relationship. As shown through a detailed case illustration, the therapist can discover and engage aspects of the intersubjective matrix that may not meet the eye by attending to his or her own bodily experiences and associations in and out of sessions.     

ANALYTIC MIND USE AND INTERPSYCHIC COMMUNICATION: DRIVING FORCE IN ANALYTIC TECHNIQUE,PATHWAY TO UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL LIFE

Developed from established psychoanalytic knowledge among different psychoanalytic cultures concerning unconscious interpsychic communication, analysts' use of their receptive mental experience—their analytic mind use, including the somatic, unconscious, and less accessible derivatives—represents a significant investigative road to patients' unconscious mental life, particularly with poorly symbolized mental states. The author expands upon this tradition, exploring what happens when patients unconsciously experience and identify with the analyst's psychic functioning. The technical implications of the analyst's “instrument” are described, including the analyst's ego regression, creation of inner space, taking mind as object, bearing uncertainty and intense affect, and self‐analysis. Brief case vignettes illustrate the structure and obstacles to this work.     

Avoiding unbearable pain

This presentation describes the way in which defence mechanisms and resistance manifested themselves in the analysis of a man with a narcissistic personality disorder. In the course of the analysis, there were changes in the forms taken by the defence and the resistance, signalling important genetic and dynamic conditions in his life. Both represented desperate attempts to avoid the unbearably painful feelings and affects which he had experienced in his childhood, and bore witness to early and primitive defence mechanisms such as denial, splitting and projective identification. The defence can also be seen as an expression of an unconscious fear of being re-traumatised. The idealisation of the analyst in the first years of the analysis can therefore be understood as a precondition for entering into this kind of process. It also represented a defence against aggressive and homosexual feelings in the transference which first became clear during the final phase of the analysis and could then be worked through. At this point, the analyst's reactions to his own unconscious countertransference were of help in understanding what was actually going on. This analysis may also suggest that defects and trauma in the earliest years may be conducive to alexithymia, deficient contact between feelings and words, linked to the risk of developing serious psychosomatic illnesses. This may be a consequence of the fact that the child's feelings and affects were neither accepted, understood nor affirmed in words, or they may even have been met with rejection or ridicule. A connection between narcissistic personality disorders and alexithymia can possibly be seen here.     

Psychosomatics and Technique

Several clinical vignettes express the unconscious use of the patient's body as containing and enacting a somatic defense until free association enables affect to be found in the clinical setting. In this paper, there is a plea to take the body of the patient as seriously as the mind and language. As Ferenczi eloquently remarked "one needs to have lived through an affective experience, to have, so to speak, felt it in ones body, in order to gain conviction."     

Therapist memory and reverie: implications for the clinical setting

In this work, the author considers reveries to be ‘dream-like-memories’. In the course of a session they appear as proto-memory – the therapist’s early traumatic object relations that are recorded in the unconscious at an almost bodily level (a type of unthought known) and which are resurrected between therapist and patient when a similar traumatic subject arises between them. The therapist’s reveries are recollections in the form of dream-like allusions to his past experience. A clinical vignette from the psychotherapy of a child whose father suffered from PTSD (following a wartime experience in Afghanistan and Iraq) is discussed. Dissociative dynamics were repeated in the therapeutic relationship, in the form of an obsessive game intending to preserve the state in which there was no need to remember what had been unconsciously transmitted to the child: his father’s wartime experience. The projection of the primary elements which had been silenced evoked in the therapist allusions to his unconscious identification with his ancestor’s post-traumatic experiences. These allusions helped in overcoming the dissociated state. The role of memory in child psychotherapists’ receptivity of trauma is revisited.     

Jung and Gnosticism

Carl Jung interprets Gnosticism the way he interprets alchemy: as a hoary counterpart to his analytical psychology. As interpreted by Jung, Gnostic myths describe a seemingly outward, if also inward, process which is in fact an entirely inward, psychological one. The Gnostic progression from sheer bodily existence to the rediscovery of the immaterial spark trapped in the body and the reunion of that spark with the immaterial godhead symbolize the Jungian progression from sheer ego consciousness to the rediscovery of the unconscious within the mind and the integration of the ego with the unconscious to forge the self. For Jung, Gnostics are the ancient counterpart to present-day Jungian patients. Both constitute a psychological elite. Where most persons are satisfied with traditional means of connecting themselves to their unconscious, Gnostics and Jungians are sensi tive to the demise of those means and are seeking new ones. Where, alternatively, most other persons are oblivious to the existence of the unconscious altogether, Gnostics and Jungians are preoccupied with it. Gnostics project their unconscious onto the cosmos and are therefore striving to connect themselves to something external, not just, like Jungians, to something internal. Interpreting in Jungian terms the Gnostic myth Poimandres, I argue that Jungian psychology makes enormous sense of the myth, but not in the way that Jung envisions. Upon rediscovering his spark, the Gnostic seeks to reject his body altogether rather than to mesh the two. He does strive to reunite with the godhead, but the godhead is immateriality itself rather than, like the body, matter. Indeed, the godhead, taken psychologically, is only a projection of the unconscious onto the cosmos, so that the unconscious is thereby reuniting with itself. The Gnostic's uncompromising rejection of the body and, more, of the whole material world therefore symbolizes not, as Jung assumes, the Jungian ideal of wholeness but the Jungian nemesis of inflation or, worse, psychosis. I suggest that Jung misconstrues Gnosticism because he parallels it to alchemy, which does fit the Jungian ideal.     

Jung and Gnosticism

Carl Jung interprets Gnosticism the way he interprets alchemy: as a hoary counterpart to his analytical psychology. As interpreted by Jung, Gnostic myths describe a seemingly outward, if also inward, process which is in fact an entirely inward, psychological one. The Gnostic progression from sheer bodily existence to the rediscovery of the immaterial spark trapped in the body and the reunion of that spark with the immaterial godhead symbolize the Jungian progression from sheer ego consciousness to the rediscovery of the unconscious within the mind and the integration of the ego with the unconscious to forge the self. For Jung, Gnostics are the ancient counterpart to present-day Jungian patients. Both constitute a psychological elite. Where most persons are satisfied with traditional means of connecting themselves to their unconscious, Gnostics and Jungians are sensi tive to the demise of those means and are seeking new ones. Where, alternatively, most other persons are oblivious to the existence of the unconscious altogether, Gnostics and Jungians are preoccupied with it. Gnostics project their unconscious onto the cosmos and are therefore striving to connect themselves to something external, not just, like Jungians, to something internal. Interpreting in Jungian terms the Gnostic myth Poimandres, I argue that Jungian psychology makes enormous sense of the myth, but not in the way that Jung envisions. Upon rediscovering his spark, the Gnostic seeks to reject his body altogether rather than to mesh the two. He does strive to reunite with the godhead, but the godhead is immateriality itself rather than, like the body, matter. Indeed, the godhead, taken psychologically, is only a projection of the unconscious onto the cosmos, so that the unconscious is thereby reuniting with itself. The Gnostic's uncompromising rejection of the body and, more, of the whole material world therefore symbolizes not, as Jung assumes, the Jungian ideal of wholeness but the Jungian nemesis of inflation or, worse, psychosis. I suggest that Jung misconstrues Gnosticism because he parallels it to alchemy, which does fit the Jungian ideal.     

Metaphors of a bodily mind

Patients' metaphors in analysis may allow access to ineffable experiences. This is understandable, since the mind is a bodily mind, and language is a fully embodied function of this mind. That is, both are dependent for their existence upon the physical body. The ontogenic accumulation of perceived sensory impressions and affective processes far exceeds what can be put into words. Research in cognitive psychology suggests that the active mind functions in such a manner that later perceptions are organized by means of earlier ones. However, since the mind can know only its own representations, it inhabits two ever unknown realms: the external world itself, and the domain of internal unconscious processes that sustain the mind's functions. As a result, the world and the self we know are constructed by the mediation of our bodies. In language also, the active mode by which we perceive, process, and feel makes our understanding of words dependent on previous experience. The fact that the limbic system is activated immediately in the moment of processing experience means that all modalities of representation include an affective valuation.This inevitable processing of information through the mediation of affectively valued bodily perceptions gives the metaphorical function-the human capacity to organize experience and life in metaphoric ways-the ability to create linguistic metaphors that can capture and express otherwise inexpressible psychic experiences. This manner of understanding metaphor has implications for psychoanalytic technique.     

Towards an understanding of the psychodynamic processes of the body

Abstract

Counselling clients frequently mention bodily symptoms, yet, within the therapy world, the body largely remains off-limits. This, in some part, is undoubtedly due to the prevailing issues around the touch taboo. However, the symptoms emanating from the body may well have profound psychodynamic meaning. This paper sets out to describe a psychodynamic perspective for how these symptoms may arise. Notions such as libido and preverbal theories, along with primal defence mechanisms, are used to show how the body becomes involved in unconscious processes. A case study is presented as illustrative of some of the psychodynamic concepts that may be implicated. It is argued that bodywork may help in providing a preverbal supportive environment from which a therapeutic alliance may develop, thus allowing for a verbalization of unconscious conflict.     

Something torn or burst or unbearable: a psychoanalytically-informed exploration of the experience of somatic symptoms

Experiences of and responses to bodily symptoms have long held interest, from earlier roots in hysteria to the most recent category of somatic symptom disorder (SSD) in DSM 5. SSD’s focus on distress implies that symptoms hold meaning for individuals. This study used a psychoanalytically-informed, multiple interview method and analysis to explore such possible meanings. Six participants were interviewed on three occasions each, with four themes emerging as follows: (1) a foreign body in charge; (2) left alone with the foreign body; (3) the body works for the mind; and (4) the body mirrors the mind. Bion’s idea of an active container-contained function and the construct of psychic pain formed a useful framework for understanding themes. The distress that lies in somatic symptoms was formulated as potentially stemming from an initial difficulty with containment in the primary object relationship. It is argued that distress may indicate a struggle with suffering that is not only somatic but also psychological in nature; and that the symptomatic body may have reached its limits in containing psychic pain. Implications for working clinically include the importance of close and sustained attention, through the clinician’s reverie, to somatic and emotional feeling states to help guide treatment.     

Silent thoughts,spoken wishes: when candidate experience of the supervisor converges with patient fantasies

How and why a candidate's private experience of two supervisors emerged in patients' fantasies about them is explored. Four issues are examined in light of two control cases: (1) Patients divide, rather than split, the transference between supervisor and candidate, experiencing both ambivalently. (2) Even a patient with no knowledge of the supervisor's identity may have a fantasy of the supervisor that is congruent with the candidate's experience of the supervisor. (3) When new professional traits emerge in the candidate as he or she identifies with his or her mentor, the patient may attribute them to the invisible person in the room--the supervisor; the patient may intuit and be influenced by the candidate's feelings about the supervisor as well. (4) A patient's fantasies about the supervisor may reflect parallel process in reverse, whereby the patient discerns what is going on between supervisor and candidate through his or her treatment, just as the supervisor reads what is going on between patient and candidate through the candidate's reporting of the treatment. Because the trio is the truth of the training case, it seems fitting and empowering to acknowledge and analyze the role of the supervisor in the patient's mind.     

The pea cea ble kingdom

While working as a training analyst in Zürich in the early 1970s, Arnold Mindell began to develop an offshoot of Jungian psychology that he called dreambodywork, which links experiences of bodily feelings and symptoms with our dreams. For the past twenty-five years, he has expanded his approach, now known as process work or process-oriented psychology, to include work with psychiatric and comatose patients as well as large groups in conflict.

Using the language of Taoism, Mindell distinguishes between the dreaming process which, like the Tao, cannot be spoken, and dream content, which can be spoken. He likens the former to the invisible archetypal realm and the latter to the archetypal images, which can be seen. Mindell suggests that clinicians who focus on the latter tend to use analysis and interpretation to understand dream figures, standing aloof and separating subject from object, such as analyst and analyst and or dream ego and shadow. Instead, he advocates using a more shamanic approach that follows the mysterious process of the living unconscious as it unfolds in bodily feelings, smells, tastes, movements, visualizations, relationships, and unpredictable events, as well as dreams. In this way, Mindell has taken the dream out of the sleep state into waking consciousness and out of the psyche into the world. While standing on the shoulders of his teachers, C.G. Jung and Marie-Louise von Franz, he has continued to reach for his own star.     

Depressive rumination in an analysand after a traumatic treatment

The author attempts to understand the underpinnings of a ruminative depression that occurred in a patient after a troubled first analysis. Negative therapeutic reaction is often assumed to be the result of a patient's unconscious guilt or masochism and thus an intrapsychic phenomenon, but the author asserts that iatrogenic phenomena in the form of persistent misunderstandings and enactments that remain unanalyzed contribute to a destructive treatment experience. The analysand may relive the failed treatment again and again in his or her mind in an attempt to resolve it. The author asserts that a traumatic treatment experience can foster depressive rumination.     

Affective intentionality and the feeling body

This text addresses a problem that is not sufficiently dealt with in most of the recent literature on emotion and feeling. The problem is a general underestimation of the extent to which affective intentionality is essentially bodily. Affective intentionality is the sui generis type of world-directedness that most affective states – most clearly the emotions – display. Many theorists of emotion overlook the extent to which intentional feelings are essentially bodily feelings. The important but quite often overlooked fact is that the bodily feelings in question are not the regularly treated, non-intentional bodily sensations (known from Jamesian accounts of emotion), but rather crucial carriers of world-directed intentionality. Consequently, most theories of human emotions and feelings recently advocated are deficient in terms of phenomenological adequacy. This text tries to make up for this deficit and develops a catalogue of five central features of intentional bodily feelings. In addition, Jesse Prinz’s embodied appraisal theory is criticized as an exemplary case of the misconstrual of the bodily nature of affective experience in naturalistic philosophy of mind.

Opening the closed heart: affect-focused clinical work with the victims of early trauma

This paper begins with the understanding that early trauma leads to powerful dissociative defenses which injure the capacity to feel. It further explores ways to restore this capacity through body-centred attention to affect-in-the-moment in the psychoanalytic situation. Using the author’s personal experience while in analysis as well as a case of severe early trauma, he demonstrates the consciousness-killing effect of primitive defenses and shows how body-sensitive techniques hold the promise of restoring the patient’s sense of aliveness and hence, opening the unconscious to those affect-images that are the building blocks of the human imagination. A final section focuses on the neglect of feeling in Jungian psychology and suggests that the “creation of consciousness” which Jung described as his personal myth, is quintessentially a process of emotional transformation – of bringing unconscious suffering into consciousness – as feelings.     

Why did freud choose medical school?

Abstract

After demonstrating the unsatisfactory nature of the reasons Freud gave us for his choice of medical school, the author shows how it is possible to throw new light on it on the basis of his letters to his adolescent friend Emil Fluss. This relationship played a crucial role in forcing Freud to come out of his isolation and the defensive dissection of his feelings that he used to practice, and thus experience an intimate relationship as a better source of self-knowledge and growth. This is the context in which his choice of medical school took place, which can consequently be conceptualized in terms of his unconscious—and self-concealed—pursuit of a growth-promoting and self-healing agency and experience. It thus was an interpersonal event which compelled him to deviate from his original purpose, i.e. the study of law or the humanities, and take up the “unconscious plan” to soften his defensive apparatus. This is consequently the new meaning we can attach to the experience of “rest and full satisfaction” he made in Brücke's laboratory between 1876 and 1882. What he defines as the “triumph” of his life thus also acquires a new meaning: the possibility to take up again his original interest in psychology not on an exclusively defensive basis any more, but eventually in a constructive way. Such a personal itinerary also represented one of Freud's most convincing experiences of the power of the unconscious, as he formulated it in his book on dreams—and as he articulated it in the new field of psychoanalysis. Since, in the author's opinion, the attempt at self-cure lies at the root of our own choice of our profession, this must have been also Freud's case, at a much earlier time than what is traditionally referred to as his self-analysis. At variance with what Freud himself used to claim, the study of his life remains one of the best keys to the understanding of his intellectual legacy.