This Jungian Life Podcast

The discussion dives into hiding as a psychological defense mechanism, illustrated by fairy tales like 'Jack and the Beanstalk.' It explores the tension between the desire to be seen and the comfort of concealment in personal relationships. Themes of trauma and self-revelation emerge, highlighting the journey of opening up in therapy. They analyze a vivid dream about a dangerous mountain ride, linking it to the dreamer's life frustrations and emotional states. Lastly, they touch on identity struggles faced in young adulthood and how dreams can mirror those challenges.

With “The Wall” very much in the forefront of national discussion, Deb, Lisa and Joseph reflect on the archetype of walls. Some may be stonewalls simply marking boundaries between neighbors. Others may be massive defenses like the Great Wall of China. What do walls keep out – or keep in? What do we need to create necessary separation, and what walls off connection with our own shadow that may be projected onto immigrants. When we focus on building a wall, do we neglect our internal infrastructure, health care and education—and eventually shut down our government? This discussion explores parallels between external and internal walls. The Dream: I am in my parents’ home and preparing to sleep, when I feel scared and I see through window just shining eyes looking at me from dark. I come closer and open the terrace door and I see an old lady, and I start yelling at her and waving with my hands to make her go. I want to scream but I have no voice and then my partner wakes me up. I was lying in bed, feeling scared for couple of moments, more...

Football is a uniquely American sport with millions of fans, heroic teams, and stadiums reminiscent of colosseums. As the Super Bowl approaches – television’s most watched show – Lisa, Joseph and Deb consider the archetypal underpinnings that contribute to making football America’s most watched sport. They consider the light and dark sides of fandom, the hero’s journey, the battleground, and more.   The Dream: For some reason, I brought kitty litter to the bathroom -- it was not for a cat (since I don't have one anymore) but had some other purpose. Well, as soon as I put it down, my (former) cat, Smoky immediately ran into it. I was surprised to see her, since she's been gone (dead) for years. But she was right there and obviously needed to use the litter urgently. I had the impulse to pull her away, but held back, realizing that she needs to use the bathroom and it's really important not to disturb her in doing that. Then, as I was watching her in the litter box, I saw that she was wrestling with a mouse. As I watched the scene, I saw that both Smoky and the mouse were the same size (the size of a large mouse). Smoky seemed to be winning, but it was definitely a wrestle. They were raising up dust and moving very quickly, so it was hard to see what was happening, but I saw Smoky making cuts on the mouse's back/body, and even saw some blood. I had the sense of cheering her on.  

Heartbreak is a primal and pervasive experience that affects our sense of self. The podcast explores how heartbreak can result from the death of a relationship and our shattered hopes and dreams. It delves into the impact of heartbreak on attachment, the ego, and subsequent relationships. The podcast also discusses the transformative nature of heartbreak, the significance of grieving a lost love, and the importance of surrendering to the process of life. It analyzes dreams that symbolize hope and the healing power of the psyche.

What is “I’m sorry” as a habitual response really about? There’s the preemptive apology that is offered to forestall possible criticism, the apology that evokes reassurance from others, the apology for falling short of perfection…and more. This episode explores developmental, interpersonal, and intrapsychic dynamics of various kinds of habitual apologizing. We’ll be sorry if it falls short of your expectations.   The Dream: I'm at a holiday "work party" for the very exclusive private school where I work, but it's in a big, old, rather shabby hotel that reminds me of a firehouse where my family used to have annual holiday gatherings. I'm mingling among all of the people and (as is true in my conscious life) can't seem to find a group with which I feel completely comfortable or myself. I feel like a lonely misfit in disguise,  feigning conformity and pleasant attitude.  I go upstairs to where the bathroom is supposed to be, and it feels very far away from the party--the second floor is creepily empty and quiet, with several large, empty rooms. I don't remember actually going into a bathroom, but as I'm about to go back downstairs to the party, I see an infant boy teetering at the top of the staircase on the landing. He is far too small to be walking. I immediately pick him up to save him, and he looks up at me, clearly distressed, and begins speaking as a much older child would. I ask him where his mother is, and he says he doesn't know, and is crying.   I don't remember all of what he says, but he tells me that he is in kindergarten. I hold him to my chest and he begins to calm down, eventually falling asleep. I feel affection for him and give him a kiss on the cheek, but I'm alarmed and unsure of what we will do. I go downstairs to the bartender of this party and ask where this boy's mother might be. He says, "probably in the party upstairs."  No one at the work party seems to notice or care that I have this lost baby. I go back upstairs, and as before, there is no one there--just an open door exposing a room with these creepy, industrial looking blue closet doors (almost like storage spaces) underneath a fluorescent light. I feel a deep sense that this situation is not right, and a strong determination to get myself and the baby out of there. The dream ends with me standing on the landing, baby still pressed against me.  

Along with a our guest podcast Brazilian Jungian analyst Leticia Capriotti, we explored the psychological underpinnings of regret. We considered that sometimes regret can arise as a result of self-betrayal.  We link it to the unlived life that can haunt us and demand our attention. At times, this unlived life may reach into the ancestral past, as we struggle with inter-generational patterns. We discuss how sometimes this can lead to new creative endeavors, but at other times, there may need to be a painful sacrifice of fantasy before regret can be transformed. To avoid bitterness, we must come to love our fate, which involves sanctifying the ordinary.    We discussed the work of genogram expert Monica McGoldrick.   The Dream:    It is the middle of the night & I am in the shadowy living area of what appears to be an English mansion house. The room is large and high ceilinged, but is dark & shadowy. My attention is focused on a dimly lit table, where I am standing and packing to depart. I am packing my final suitcase with books - a companion is bringing the books to me but who that person is is unclear (perhaps my young adult son). The books are hard covered and old, thick & weighty. I don't know the titles - but they are from a prolific 19th century English male author who I have never felt the need to read, yet I'm taking the care to pack these. I'm sorting the books & packing with haste. While I'm in charge of the packing, I worry about what I am doing. The books are so thick and heavy & take up so much space - will I even be able to carry the suitcase? Is it a mistake packing these...will I read them?...why take these, why now, at this time? I seem to finish sorting, although I leave everything in the shadowy room. I open the heavy door made of dark wood to peer into the shadowy entryway where my other small suitcases are standing. I peak out into the darkness, keeping my eye out for danger but also for the unknown person who will come to take us away.  

How is Jungian analysis different from other psychotherapies? What are its major components and distinguishing features? And what makes it effective? Lisa, Deb, and Joseph discuss Jungian analysis as a nonlinear process that is not limited to problem-solving or reducing symptoms. Instead, Jungian analysis is grounded in an inherent capacity to grow into wholeness, a process Jung called individuation. Jungian analysis places a high value on all the processes and multiplicities of the unconscious, from symptoms to work with dreams, in order to facilitate the integration of denied or devalued aspects of the personality. The four particular stages of an analytic journey, which may overlap, are explained: catharsis, elucidation, education, and transformation—altogether an abiding fullness of being. The Dream: I’m in the front room of my home. It is a farmhouse with views from the room of rolling hills. I’m looking after my two young boys inside and the room is in chaos. An unexpected visitor enters the room, it is my friend who is a vicar. We have children a similar age and I think he has come for a playdate, but I realize he has turned up for a therapy session. He wants to discuss his addiction but I can’t focus as I need to look after the children. I also wonder how I have let this happen—he’s my friend and this is my home; I feel guilty I have let this happen.

This week we sat down with Dave from Shrink Rap Radio to discuss dream analysis. We hope you enjoy and happy holidays!

As the holiday season approaches, we examine the tidal pull of the ancient, archetypal power of the solstice season. Because of this underpinning, together with the power of family narratives, roles, and complexes, the holidays can be fraught with intense feeling, from hope to regression to disappointment. We discuss ways to manage feelings, intention, and behavior.     The Dream: "I am in a bathhouse (Turkish bath) and sitting immersed in the pool of warm water to my waist. I am sitting with my back to a rectangle column made out of black granite. I have my arms are stretched like a crucifix and my hands are holding onto the column that is behind me. The pool is made out of green granite. To my left there is an altar made out of cubic-shaped granite and on which sits a woman who is a sage, a seer, a fortune-teller, or a magician. She is wearing a long dress and is sitting crossed legged.  My back is hot and dries the film of water on the column and as the column dries my back leaves marks on the column. The marks are magical symbols.  They resemble the Japanese Zen art that is done by a water-wet brush on a black rock and it fades as water dries. The woman comes and looks at them and she is flabbergasted. She has never seen magical marks such as these.  In the bottom of the pool and in front of me there is a piece of green granite with a circular metal inlay and a ring attached to the circular metal. It resembles the remains of a counterweight that would have been used in opening the gates to castles. I look at it and with the power of my mere stare the rock floats up to the surface of the water and glides on the surface. Then the rock starts skipping on the surface of water 3 times and lands on the skirt of the woman who is back on the altar."     

This podcast dissects the myth of Narcissus and the spectrum of narcissism, from healthy developmental narcissism to toxic psychopathy. They explore the lack of empathy common in all forms of narcissism, and offer insights on identifying and dealing with narcissists in relationships. The Dream segment reveals a scenario where an ex-wife moves back in, triggering assertiveness and boundaries.