The Taproot Podcast - 💔Healing the Modern Soul: Finding Meaning in a World of Broken Images

Episode Date: April 23, 2024

Healing the Modern Soul is a series about how clinical psychology will haave to change and confront its past if it is to remain relevant in the future. Part 1    Part 2    Part 3     Part 4 ��    Healing the Modern Soul Appendix  #nietzsche #jung #philosophy #adorno #walterbenjamin #frankfurtschool #simulacra #simulacrum  #eikonosphere #psychology #anthropology Read the Longform Article on the Blog: https://gettherapybirmingham.com/4777-2/   Navigating Uncertainty, and Finding Meaning in a Fractured World Our era is characterized by the dominance of hyper-rationality and the relentless pursuit of objective truth, production, accomplishment and consumption.  The human psyche finds itself adrift in a sea of fragmented images and disconnected meanings as the previous myths that used to give us purpose are exposed as hollow or erroneous. I see patients everyday that describe this phenomenon but not in these words. It is as if they are saying that they do not know who they are anymore. Not because they have changed but because all of the nodes and references points that used to contextualize their identity are stripped away or have been made foreign and incomprehensible. However the world still looks the same to them, despite its alienating effect. It is not the aesthetics of the world that are different, but the effect that it has on us. Because the world looks the same we feel crazy. Really it is our feelings telling us that the world is crazy even though it looks the same. Effective therapy in the modern world needs to get over its insecurities of feeling or looking crazy. If we don’t let ourselves as therapists admit to patients that we also feel in pain, that we also feel crazy from these same forces, then how can therapy do anything but gaslight our patients more. When I see the news I feel like I am on drugs, even though I am stone cold sober. I know that the people on tv do not believe the things they say and are not acting for the reasons that they tell me as a spectator that they are. I am not a politician or a god, I am a therapist. I am as paralyzed against these forces as my patients are and yet I must help them recon with them. I must help them reckon with them even though I do not know how to reckon with them myself. I didn’t understand it at first but have come around to the line of W.H. Auden that the Jungian analyst James Hillman liked to quote at the end of his life. “We are lived by forces that we pretend to understand.” -W. H. Auden Auden’s line highlights how the frameworks and philosophies we resort to for certainty and order are often little more than self-delusion. The grand meaning-making systems of religion, science, politics, etc. that have risen to such cultural dominance are but feeble attempts to exert control over the ineffable complexities of being. Yet we cling tenaciously to these conceptual constructs, these hyper-real simulations, because the alternative – admitting the primacy of ambiguity, contradiction, and the unfathomable depths propelling our thoughts and actions – is simply too destabilizing. The simulacrum proliferates these hyper-rational facades and simulated realities precisely because they defend against having to confront the “forces we pretend to understand.” The philosopher Jean Baudrillard’s concept of the simulacra, or a copy without an original – a realm where simulations and representations have become more “real” than reality itself – aptly captures the sense of alienation and dislocation that pervades contemporary culture. In this world of surfaces and appearances, the depth of human experience is often lost, and the quest for authentic meaning becomes increasingly elusive. Appearance of the Unreal The simulacrum is a conceptual framework proposed by the philosopher and cultural theorist Jean Baudrillard in his book “The Intelligence of Evil or the Lucidity Pact” (2005). It refers to the realm of images and representations that have become detached from reality and taken on a life of their own in contemporary culture. According to Baudrillard, in the postmodern era, images and simulations have become more real than reality itself. Images circulate and multiply, creating a hyper reality that replaces the real world. In this realm, images no longer represent or refer to an external reality but instead become self-referential and self-generating. Some key characteristics of the simulacra as described by Baudrillard: It is a realm of simulacra, where copies and simulations have replaced the original and the authentic. It is a world of appearances and surfaces, where depth and meaning have been lost. It is a realm of fascination and seduction, where images captivate and manipulate the viewer. It is a world of illusion and virtuality, where the boundaries between the real and the imaginary have collapsed. The simulacra describes a semiotic vertigo, a self-referential hall of mirrors in which signifiers endlessly circulate and proliferate, unmoored from any ultimate signified or referent in material reality. It is a world that has become untethered from the symbolic order, that transcendent horizon of meaning and metaphysical grounding which allows a culture to orient human experience within a coherent frame. For Baudrillard, the implications of this unraveling of the symbolic order are profoundly disorienting and alienating. The perpetual bombardment of images and spectacle produces a crisis of meaning and a loss of critical distance. Signs and representations become unhinged from the tangible contexts and embodied human narratives that could imbue them with authenticity and significance. Gilbert Durand’s Imaginary Gilbert Durand’s concept of the imaginary, as described in his book “The Anthropological Structures of the Imaginary” (1960), can provide valuable insights into the crisis of meaning in the postmodern world. Durand argues that the human imagination is structured by fundamental archetypal patterns that shape our understanding of the world. For Durand, the realm of images, symbols, and myths constitutes the collective imaginary of a culture, providing a symbolic framework through which individuals can navigate the complexities of existence. However, in the postmodern era, the traditional symbols and myths that once anchored the imaginary have been eroded by the forces of secularization, rationalization, and technological change. The result is a fragmentation of the imaginary, a loss of symbolic coherence that leaves individuals adrift in a sea of disconnected images and meanings. Durand suggests that the crisis of meaning in contemporary culture is not merely a matter of intellectual or philosophical confusion, but a profound disruption of the archetypal structures that underpin human experience. The challenge, then, is to reconnect with new symbols and myths that can restore a sense of coherence and purpose. Michel Serres and the Proliferation of Images Michel Serres, in his work, explores the growing influence of images and visual media in contemporary society. He argues that the proliferation of images has created a new kind of environment that shapes our perception, knowledge, and behavior. Serres’s perspective highlights the way in which images and simulations have come to dominate contemporary culture. The endless circulation of images creates a sense of information overload and semiotic confusion, making it difficult for individuals to discern what is real and what is illusory. In this context, the task of therapy becomes one of helping patients navigate the world of images, to find ways of grounding their experience in authentic human relationships and chosen, not preprogrammed, narratives. This may involve a critical interrogation of the images and representations that shape our understanding of the world, as well as a renewed emphasis on the importance of symbolic meaning and archetypal structures. The simulacrum is not merely a philosophical or semiotic problem, but a profound existential challenge. It undermines the very foundations of human subjectivity, calling into question the assumptions and beliefs that have traditionally provided a sense of order and purpose to human experience. In this context, the role of therapy becomes one of helping patients to confront the radical uncertainty and ambiguity of the postmodern condition. This may involve a willingness to embrace the inherent contradictions and paradoxes of existence, to find meaning in the midst of chaos and confusion. A Heap of Broken Images in the Waste Land of the Modern The crisis of meaning that haunts the modern age is poignantly evoked in T.S. Eliot’s  “The Waste Land.” The poem’s fragmented structure and kaleidoscopic imagery reflect the shattered psyche of a post-war generation, struggling to find coherence and purpose in a world that has lost its moral and spiritual bearings. The “heap of broken images” that Eliot describes is a powerful metaphor for the breakdown of the shared cultural narratives and value systems that once provided a sense of unity and direction to human life. This theme is echoed in the work of the Jungian analyst Edward Edinger, who argues that the loss of these collective “containers” of meaning has left individuals increasingly vulnerable to the direct impact of archetypal forces. Cut off from the mediating influence of cultural traditions and communal myths, the modern psyche is exposed to the raw power of the unconscious, leading to a range of psychological disturbances, from neurosis and obsession to psychosis and despair. At the core of the human experience lie archetypal energies, biological drives, unconscious impulses that defy rationalization. The Jungian analyst Edward Edinger highlighted how the breakdown of cultural narratives and societal containers in modernity has left the individual psyche exposed to these primordial currents without adequate symbolic mediation. We are “lived” more by these depths than by the ideological scripts we rehearse on the surface. The totalizing ideological systems and regimes of image-commodification so pervasive in late capitalism can be viewed as anxious attempts to reinstall order and stuff the denied “forces” back into an old and broken symbolic container. But as Auden intuited, and as the desolation of “The Waste Land” gives voice to, such efforts are doomed to fail in reinstating an authentic sense of meaning and rootedness. What is required is a re-enchantment of the world, a resacrilization of existence that can hold the tensions of the rational and irrational, the structured and the chaotic, in productive paradox. Rather than defensive pretense, the goal becomes to live into the mysteries with humility and openness. Only by greeting “the forces we pretend to understand” with vulnerability and courage can we hope to restore the symbolic depths modernity has paved over with hyper-rational simulations and spectacles. The Jungian idea of the tension of the opposites can help us make sense of the dichotomy between the real we we are seeing and the unreal that we are feeling. By trying to pick between these forces we have to pick between either feeling crazy and acting sane or feeling sane and acting crazy. If we are able to feel the truth of both the real an unreal, subjective and objective tension that the cognitive dissonance of the modern era is causing it will become a powerful intuition. This powerful intuition was something harnessed by the theorists and writers mentioned in this essay. It is why their work feels so true even where it might seem on the surface like madness. Such an approach does not abandon logic, analysis and differentiated understanding. Rather, it balances these with an embrace of ambiguity, a readiness to engage the symbolic potencies of the unconscious, myth and the mysteries that exceed rational categorization. The Buddhist notion of the “still point” that so haunts “The Waste Land” evokes this posture of dwelling in the creative spaciousness between conceptual fixities. For Jung, it is only through metabolizing psychic opposition that true depth and wholeness can arise. The reconciliation of conflicts within honors psyche’s inexhaustible fertility, rather than defensively walling meaning off within cardboard ideological constructs. Real and Unreal Time Henri Bergson wrote that lived time (durée) is fundamentally different from the spatialized, quantified conception of time in science. He saw duration as a heterogeneous, interpenetrating flow irreducible to discrete instants. Intuition, rather than intellect, is the faculty by which we can grasp this dynamic continuity of consciousness. In Creative Evolution, Bergson proposed that evolution is driven by an élan vital – an immanent, indivisible current of life that flows through all living beings, giving rise to novelty and creative emergence rather than just gradual, continuous adaptation. Totalizing ideologies and the “regimes of image-commodification” in late capitalism are anxious attempts to reinstate a sense of order, but are doomed to fail at providing authentic meaning. What is needed is a re-enchantment and resacralization of the world that can hold the paradoxical tensions between rational and irrational, structured and chaotic. The Jungian notion of the tension of opposites illuminates the dichotomy between the “real” we see and the “unreal” we feel in the modern world. By feeling the truth of both and inhabiting that cognitive dissonance, it can become a powerful intuition – something you argue animates the work of the thinkers and writers you mention. The goal is to dwell in the “creative spaciousness” between conceptual fixities, balancing differentiated understanding with an openness to ambiguity, unconscious symbolism, and mystery. Metabolizing psychic opposition in this way allows for true wholeness to emerge, honoring the psyche’s deep generativity. Bergson sits with the same Phenomenon as Eddinger. The modern mind, unmoored from traditional cultural and spiritual structures that once provided symbolic mediation and containment of archetypal energies, is more vulnerable to being overwhelmed by unconscious forces in the wake of traumatic rupture. Rebuilding an authentic relationship to meaning after trauma thus requires recovering a sense of anchoring in the living weave of the world’s mystery and hidden coherence beneath the fragmenting onslaught of a hyper-rationalized, dispirited culture. Magic as Real and Unreal Intuition Bergson distinguishes between two forms of religious belief and practice: the “static religion” of closed societies, characterized by conformity to established norms and rituals, and the “dynamic religion” of open societies, driven by the creative impetus of mystical intuition. Within this framework, Bergson sees magic as a primitive form of static religion. He argues that magic arises from an extension of the “logic of solids” – our practical intelligence attuned to manipulating the material world – into the realm of human affairs. Just as we can cause changes in physical objects through our actions, magical thinking assumes that we can influence others and control events through symbolic gestures and incantations. Fabulation, on the other hand, is the human faculty of myth-making and storytelling. For Bergson, fabulation serves a vital social function by creating shared narratives and beliefs that bind communities together. It is a defensive reaction of nature against the dissolving power of intelligence, which, left unchecked, could undermine social cohesion by questioning established norms and practices. While Bergson sees both magic and fabulation as grounded in a kind of “fiction,” he does not dismiss them as mere illusions. Rather, he acknowledges their pragmatic value in structuring human life and experience. However, he also recognizes their limitations and potential dangers, especially when they harden into closed, dogmatic systems that stifle individual creativity and moral progress. In contrast to static religion, Bergson celebrates the dynamic, mystical élan of open religion, which he sees as the highest expression of the creative impulse of life. Mystics, through their intuitive coincidence with the generative source of reality, are able to break through the closed shells of tradition and breathe new vitality into ossified institutions and beliefs.Bergson’s perspective on the creative, evolutionary impulse of life (élan vital) and the role of intuition in connecting with this generative force can provide a compelling lens for understanding the impact of trauma on the human psyche. In Bergson’s view, intuition is the key to tapping into the dynamic, flowing nature of reality and aligning ourselves with the creative unfolding of life. It allows us to break through the rigid, spatialized categories of the intellect and coincide with the inner durational flux of consciousness and the world. Trauma, however, can be seen as a profound disruption of this intuitive attunement. The overwhelming, often unspeakable nature of traumatic experience can shatter our sense of coherence and continuity, leaving us feeling disconnected from ourselves, others, and the vital currents of life. In this state of fragmentation and dissociation, we may turn to various coping mechanisms and defenses that, while serving a protective function, can also further distract us from the healing power of intuition. For example, we may become rigidly fixated on controlling our environment, engaging in compulsive behaviors, or retreating into numbing addictions – all attempts to manage the chaos and terror of unintegrated traumatic memories. These trauma responses can be seen as a kind of “static religion” writ small – closed, repetitive patterns that provide a sense of familiarity and safety, but at the cost of flexibility, growth, and open engagement with the dynamism of life. They fulfill some of the same functions as the collective myths and rituals Bergson associated with fabulation, but in a constricted, individual way that ultimately keeps us stuck rather than propelling us forward. Moreover, the energy consumed by these trauma adaptations can leave us depleted and less able to access the vitalizing power of intuition. Instead of flowing with the creative impulse of the élan vital, we become caught in stagnant eddies of reactivity and defense. However, just as Bergson saw the potential for dynamic, open religion to renew and transform static, closed systems, healing from trauma involves a return to intuitive attunement and a reintegration with the generative flux of life. This may involve working through and releasing the residual charge of traumatic activation, re-establishing a sense of safety and embodied presence, and cultivating practices that reconnect us with the creative wellsprings of our being. In Jungian psychology, intuition is seen as a function that mediates between the conscious and unconscious realms of the psyche. Conscious intuition involves a deliberate, reflective engagement with the insights and promptings that emerge from our deeper layers of being. It requires an attitude of openness, curiosity, and discernment, as we seek to integrate the wisdom of the unconscious into our conscious understanding and decision-making. Unconscious intuition, on the other hand, operates below the threshold of awareness, influencing our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors in ways that we may not fully comprehend. When we are cut off from a conscious relationship with our intuitive function – as is often the case in the wake of trauma – our unconscious intuitions can become distorted, projected, and misused. This might manifest as projections, where we unconsciously attribute our own disowned qualities or experiences onto others, leading to interpersonal conflicts and misunderstandings. It could also take the form of acting out, where unintegrated traumatic experiences drive us to engage in compulsive, self-destructive behaviors. Or it might express itself through somatization, where the body carries the unresolved trauma that the conscious mind cannot bear. As we develop this more conscious relationship with our unconscious intuition, we can begin to discern the difference between reactive, trauma-based projections and genuine intuitive insights. We can learn to trust and follow the deeper wisdom of our psyche, while also maintaining the boundaries and discernment necessary for healthy functioning. Nietzsche saw logic as a form of insecurity In his writing Friedrich Nietzsche saw clearly that the philosophical  and scientific works  of ultra logical men were not dispassionate, rational examinations of truth, but rather deeply personal confessions that reveal the innermost fears, anxieties, and desires of their authors. He saw the most logical minds greatest works as opportunities to psychoanalyze men who could not see the “forces” that lived through them or the ones they had repressed. Science and philosophy for Nietzsche were merely unconsciously projected psychological struggles onto the world, creating elaborate metaphysical systems and grand narratives that serve to assuage their deepest existential terrors. There is much truth in this. When I have a radically existential patient that tells that “hell is other people” I know that that person is really telling me that they, themselves, feel like they are in hell.Nietzsche viewed science and philosophy as unconscious projections of psychological struggles onto the world. Nietzsche argues that the more a philosophical work presents itself as a purely logical, objective analysis, the more it betrays the underlying psychological desperation and spiritual repression of its creator. The grandiose claims to absolute truth and certainty that characterize much of Western philosophy are, for Nietzsche, simply a manifestation of the philosopher’s inability to confront the fundamental chaos, uncertainty, and meaninglessness of existence. By constructing abstract, rationalistic systems that promise to explain and control reality, philosophers seek to impose order and stability on a world that is ultimately beyond their comprehension. In this sense, Nietzsche sees the history of philosophy as a series of  opportunities to eavesdrop while thinkers inadvertently disclose their most intimate fears and longings while claiming to have discovered universal truths. The more a philosopher insists on the logical necessity and objective validity of their system, the more they reveal the intensity of their own psychological needs and the depths of their existential anguish. The quest for absolute knowable truth and certainty is fundamentally misguided. The fragmentation and uncertainty that characterize the modern world are not problems to be solved through the application of reason, but rather the inevitable consequence of the collapse of the illusions and defenses that have sustained human beings throughout history. Nietzsche the Therapist Rather than seeking to impose a pre-existing framework of meaning onto the patient’s experience, the therapist must work to help the individual confront and embrace the fundamental groundlessness of knowable and quantifiable existence. By learning to let go of the need for certainty and control, and by cultivating a sense of openness and creativity in the face of the unknown, the patient can begin to discover a more authentic and empowering way of being in the world. Just as philosophers have often unconsciously projected their own fears and desires onto the world, so too may therapists be tempted to impose their own beliefs and values onto their patients. When a patient comes in and says, “hell is other people,” they are really telling the therapist that they, themselves, feel like they are in hell. Ultimately, the task of healing the modern soul requires a willingness to embrace the full complexity and ambiguity of the human condition, to grapple with the shadows and uncertainties that haunt the edges of our awareness. It requires a stance of openness, curiosity, and compassion towards the multiplicity of human experience, and a recognition that our deepest truths often lie beyond the reach of any single theory or perspective. “The aim of therapy is to help the patient come to a point where he can live with uncertainty, without props, without the feeling that he must conform in order to belong. He must learn to live by his own resources, to stand on his own two feet.” -Fritz Perls Walter Benjamin is Shocking Walter Benjamin wrote in his essay “On Some Motifs in Baudelaire,” “The shock experience which the passer-by has in the crowd corresponds to what the worker ‘experiences’ at his machine.”  In a world where the constant barrage of stimuli, the ceaseless flow of images and information, and the relentless pace of change have become the norm, the human sensorium is subjected to a perpetual onslaught of “shocks” that threaten to overwhelm our capacity for conscious reflection and meaningful engagement with the world. This ubiquitous experience of shock, for Benjamin, is intimately connected to the phenomenon of trauma. In a world where the protective barriers of tradition, ritual, and collective meaning have been eroded, the psyche is left increasingly vulnerable to the impact of events that exceed its capacity for understanding and assimilation. The result is a profound sense of alienation, disorientation, and fragmentation – a kind of pervasive traumatization of the modern soul. Benjamin’s insights into the relationship between shock, trauma, and the technologization of experience have  potential implications for the practice of psychotherapy. They suggest that the task of healing in the modern world must involve more than simply addressing the symptoms of individual psychopathology, but must also grapple with the broader cultural and societal forces that shape the context of psychological suffering. In a world where the protective barriers of tradition, ritual, and collective meaning have been eroded, the psyche is left increasingly vulnerable to the impact of events that exceed its capacity for understanding and assimilation. This results in a profound sense of alienation, disorientation, and fragmentation – a kind of pervasive traumatization of the modern soul. It is all too easy for the psychotherapeutic encounter to reproduce the very conditions that contribute to the traumatization of the self. By creating a space of safety, containment, and reflection, the therapist can help the patient to develop the capacity for what Benjamin calls “contemplative immersion” – a mode of engagement with the world that resists the fragmenting and alienating effects of shock that highly logical psychoeducational or cognitive therapy might cause. For Benjamin, this loss of aura is symptomatic of a broader crisis of experience in modernity. In a world where everything is mediated through the filter of technology and mass media, our capacity for direct, unmediated experience is increasingly eroded. We become passive consumers of a never-ending stream of images and sensations, unable to anchor ourselves in the concrete realities of embodied existence. From this perspective everyone becomes a potential producer and distributor of images. We can become mindful of the images and sensations of our inner world and understand what we have internalized. This allows us to reject the empty images and symbols we still have allegiance to and to choose what we absorb from culture and what images we can create internally for ourselves. For Benjamin, the suffering and trauma of individuals cannot be understood in isolation from the broader social, economic, and political forces that we internalize as inner images that effect our experience of an outer world. Therapists who are informed by Benjamin’s ideas may seek to help individuals not only heal from their own traumatic experiences but also to develop a critical consciousness and a sense of agency in the face of collective struggles. This agency in the patient can start with simply acknowledging these realities in therapy as forces that still do effect us. All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace In an era where the dominant paradigm asserts that everything can and should be understood through the lens of rigid science and radical logic, we find ourselves grappling with a profound sense of meaninglessness. The emergence of conspiracy theories like Q Anon can be seen as a manifestation of our unconscious collective yearning for a coherent narrative that explains the invisible forces that shape our lives. In a world where the true levers of power often remain hidden from view, these folk mythologies provide a sense of order and purpose, even if they are ultimately illusory. One way to avoid not only destructive conspiracy theories, but also being manipulated by cults and advertisements, is to bring these hidden needs and pains to the surface of the psyche in therapy. If we make them know to ourselves they will not be able to hijack our emotional systems and manipulate our behavior. Viewing ourselves as purely rational and intellectual beings is what leaves these drives for comprehension, stability, inclusion, importance and purpose ripe for exploitation. Overly cognitive or intellectual therapy can leave these forces dormant as well or worse repress them further beneath the surface of the psyche. As Adam Curtis critiqued in the documentary  “All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace,” the notion that humans are merely computers that can be programmed and optimized is a seductive but ultimately flawed worldview. If we think that we are computers then will be driven mad by the dreams within us that cannot find expression through a binary choice. In the face of this existential uncertainty, psychotherapy must evolve to help patients cultivate a different kind of knowledge—one that is rooted in intuition and inner wisdom rather than intellectual mastery. This is not to say that we should abandon empiricism altogether, but rather that we must recognize its limitations and embrace a more humble, open-ended approach to understanding ourselves and the world around us. The poem “All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace” by Richard Brautigan, which inspired Curtis’s documentary, envisions a future where humans and nature are harmoniously integrated with technology. While the poem’s utopian vision may seem naive in retrospect, it speaks to a deep longing for a world in which we are not alienated from ourselves, each other, and the natural world. In the context of psychotherapy, this means helping patients to cultivate a sense of connection and meaning that transcends the narrow confines of intellectual understanding. All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace I like to think (and the sooner the better!) of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together in mutually programming harmony like pure water touching clear sky. I like to think (right now, please!) of a cybernetic forest filled with pines and electronics where deer stroll peacefully past computers as if they were flowers with spinning blossoms. I like to think (it has to be!) of a cybernetic ecology where we are free of our labors and joined back to nature, returned to our mammal brothers and sisters, and all watched over by machines of loving grace. -Richard Brautigan Re-visioning Psychology James Hillman, a prominent post-Jungian thinker, presented a radical re-envisioning of psychology in his seminal work, “Re-Visioning Psychology” (1975). His main arguments challenged the prevailing assumptions of modern psychology and proposed a new approach rooted in the imagination, mythology, and the archetypal dimensions of the psyche. The “Soul” as Central: Hillman argues for a psychology centered on the “soul,” which he understands not as a religious or metaphysical entity, but as a perspective that deepens and “pathologizes” our engagement with life. He critiques modern psychology for reducing the psyche to the ego and neglecting the imaginative, poetic, and mythic dimensions of experience. Archetypal Psychology: Drawing on Jung’s concept of archetypes, Hillman proposes an “archetypal psychology” that sees the psyche as inherently plural and polytheistic. He argues that psychological experiences and symptoms are best understood as expressions of archetypal patterns and images, rather than as personal pathologies to be cured. The Primacy of Image: For Hillman, the image is the primary mode of psychic reality. He emphasizes the need to attend to the autonomous, living images of the psyche – as expressed in dreams, fantasies, and symptoms – rather than reducing them to concepts or interpreting them in literal, personalistic terms. Pathologizing: Hillman challenges the medical model of psychology, which sees psychological distress as a disorder to be eliminated. Instead, he advocates for a “pathologizing” approach that honors the soul’s need for depth, complexity, and engagement with the full range of human experience, including suffering and shadow aspects. Psyche as Story: Hillman sees the psyche as inherently narrative and mythic. He argues that we need to engage with the archetypal stories and patterns that shape our lives, rather than trying to “cure” or “solve” them. This involves cultivating a poetic, imaginative sensibility that can embrace paradox, ambiguity, and the unknown. Ecological Sensibility: Hillman’s psychology is deeply ecological, recognizing the interdependence of psyche and world. He argues that psychological healing must involve a reconnection with the anima mundi, the soul of the world, and a re-ensouling of our relationship with nature, culture, and the cosmos. Critique of Individualism: Hillman challenges the modern ideal of the autonomous, self-contained individual. He sees the psyche as inherently relational and context-dependent, shaped by the archetypes, myths, and collective patterns of the culture and the wider world. Throughout “Re-Visioning Psychology,” Hillman argues for a psychology that is poetic, imaginative, and soulful, one that can embrace the full complexity and mystery of the human experience. His work has been influential in the fields of depth psychology, ecopsychology, and the humanities, offering a rich and provocative alternative to the dominant paradigms of modern psychology. The days of psychoanalysis, which sought to dissect every aspect of the psyche in an attempt to achieve total comprehension, are indeed over. Instead, mental health professionals must focus on helping patients to be at peace with uncertainty and to develop the resilience and adaptability needed to navigate an ever-changing world. This requires a shift away from the pursuit of mastery and control and towards a more fluid, dynamic understanding of the self and the world. The Post Secular Sacred: In his book “The Spirituality Revolution: The Emergence of Contemporary Spirituality” (2004), David Tacey, an Australian scholar in the fields of spirituality, religion, and depth psychology, presents a compelling argument about the emergence of a “post-secular sacred” in contemporary culture. Tacey observes that while traditional religious institutions and beliefs have declined in the modern West, there has been a simultaneous resurgence of interest in spirituality, particularly among younger generations. He argues that this “spirituality revolution” represents a shift towards a new, post-secular understanding of the sacred that transcends the dichotomy between religious and secular worldviews. Critique of Secular Materialism: Tacey argues that the dominant paradigm of secular materialism, which reduces reality to the objectively measurable and dismisses the spiritual dimension of life, is inadequate for meeting the deep human need for meaning, purpose, and connection. He sees the rise of contemporary spirituality as a response to the existential emptiness and ecological crisis engendered by a purely materialistic worldview. Re-enchantment of the World: Drawing on the work of thinkers such as Carl Jung, Mircea Eliade, and Thomas Berry, Tacey argues for a re-enchantment of our understanding of the world, one that recognizes the presence of the sacred in nature, the cosmos, and the depths of the psyche. He sees this as a necessary corrective to the modern disenchantment of the world, which has led to a sense of alienation, meaninglessness, and ecological destruction. The Sacredness of the Ordinary: Tacey emphasizes the importance of discovering the sacred in the midst of everyday life, rather than solely in the context of religious institutions or transcendent experiences. He argues for a democratization of the sacred, where individuals can cultivate a sense of the numinous in their relationships, work, creativity, and engagement with the natural world. Spirituality as a Developmental Process: Drawing on the work of psychologists such as Jean Piaget and James Fowler, Tacey presents spirituality as a developmental process, one that unfolds in stages from childhood to adulthood. He argues that the emergence of post-secular spirituality represents a new stage in this process, characterized by a more integrative, pluralistic, and ecologically conscious understanding of the sacred. Engaging with the Shadow: Tacey emphasizes the importance of engaging with the shadow aspects of spirituality, such as the potential for spiritual narcissism, escapism, or the abuse of power. He argues for a grounded, embodied spirituality that integrates the light and dark aspects of the psyche and is committed to ethical action in the world. Ongoing Dialogue between Spirituality and Religion: While affirming the value of post-secular spirituality, Tacey also recognizes the ongoing importance of traditional religious traditions as sources of wisdom, community, and ethical guidance. He advocates for a dialogue between contemporary spirituality and religion, one that can lead to a mutual enrichment and transformation. Post-Jungian thinkers who  have advocated for a “post-secular sacred” have argued for a kind of scientific empiricism that is infused with a sense of humility, wonder, and openness to the unknown. This perspective recognizes that there are limits to what we can know and understand, but it also affirms the value of subjective experience and the power of intuition and imagination. In practice, this could lead to new forms of psychoeducation and therapy that emphasize the cultivation of inner wisdom, self-compassion, and a sense of connection to something larger than oneself. Rather than striving to achieve perfect understanding or control, patients would be encouraged to embrace the inherent uncertainty of life and to find meaning and purpose in the present moment. This is no easy task for therapists. To be truly helpful guides on this path, we must have the honesty to admit that we too are adrift in a sea of uncertainty and fragmented narratives. The solid ground of empirical certitudes and secular meaning systems has receded, leaving us to navigate by situational awareness and intuition. Instead, we must develop a new kind of post-secular faith – not in final truths, but in the intuitive process of sense-making itself. We, as therapists,  must be honest with patients, but in doing so we run the risk of seeming stupid, unqualified or crazy. We don’t know how to do this as therapists either. We don’t have to know how but we have to develop the, perhaps post secular, faith that we can and the intuition to know in which directions to go. We must do all of this in a culture that gives us nothing but uncertainty and heaps of broken images. New Goals for Therapy The goals of psychoanalysis are now waiting and new goals must be determined for psychotherapy. The cognitive revolution has done so much damage putting all emphasis on changing external behavior and putting no emphasis on internal inside or capacity for reflection and the ability to “hold the energy” of being human. One thing that I try and prepare patients for as a psychotherapist is that when they get what they want out of therapy, when their behavior changes are they accomplished some goal, they won’t be happy. People don’t believe me they tell me how if they could just do this or just do that everything would be better. I have patients that want to get a job, want to move out from living with their parents, want to learn how to be in a relationship, want to attain friendships, a higher salary, any number of things. When they actually do accomplish these goals they realize that the emotions and the hurt and frustration that made these things seem so unattainable are still there even after those things have been attained. My point is that psychotherapy is a process of growth and that when you get what you want you don’t feel better because you’ve grown and you now have a new goal.  We need to deal with the way that we feel and the restlessness that not having the goal creates. These are the tensions that make us human and the real reason that wee are in therapy. Viewing psychotherapy as a means to accomplish something is not going to get us anywhere good. We do  accomplishing things in therapy, quite a few things, but we have forgotten that was not the point. For the postmodern self is indeed “lived by forces we pretend to understand.” The archaic currents of archetypal life perpetually destabilize our rational narratives and identities. Yet these are not obstacles to be mastered, but the very raw material and creative thermals we must learn to surf upon. Therapy becomes an art of presencing the interplay of potencies – metabolizing their inexorable unfoldings with radical lucidity and compassion. Ultimately, the goal of psychotherapy in a post-secular, post-empirical world is not to eliminate suffering or to achieve some kind of final, absolute truth. Rather, it is to help patients develop the capacity to face the unknown with courage, curiosity, and compassion. By embracing a more humble, intuitive approach to mental health, we can help individuals to find meaning and purpose in a world that is always in flux, and to cultivate the resilience and adaptability needed to thrive in an uncertain future. If you are scratching your head that is fine. I don’t know how either but I still know that we can. I have a faith that I feel is more real than what my intellect allows. The future has always been a copy without an original. The past is built on copies of the inner images that others have externalized consciously or not. All we can learn is to recognize the images inside and outside ourselves to discard the unreal and find the more than real. Our lives are an interplay of forces and we cannot prevent or defeat that. We can only learn to build behavior and cultural machinery to handle the dynamics of their flow. We are lived by forces that we pretend to understand. At times these forces seem unbearable or impossible to live with, but we must remember also that these forces exist through us and bring that tension into awareness. When I spent time as a patient in psychotherapy I encountered a lot of drowning and swimming metaphors from my therapists. Perhaps the seas are too rough now to teach patients to swim. Perhaps we need to teach patients to sail a boat. Together we can build a culture than can sail ships again. Freud thought he was a mechanic fixing the boat engine in the patients head but it is time to forget all that reductive scientific positivism. We need to remember to breath and remember how to use the wind. The watchers’ eyes now give out light. The light’s receiver- flower coiled up behind their nosebones changes place. It crawls out through their pupils. The bundled nervy flowers make a circuit be- tween each other. Bolts the color of limes boil forking through the busy air. Their brains are still inside them. But the sundown’s made to simmer with a brain that none of them quite have alone. Each one has something like it. Facets of the brain’s shelled diamond. The cage-strumming man strings out his carousel of shapes while catgut thrums out slippery chords. And the people watching him are in the circuit of an ancient battery that sleeps behind their eyes. None of them will know how to tell what’s happened. But every one will know that it can happen again. They’ll variously say: I was a tree. I was a vine that sucked the brasswork. I was an ivy knot that lived on milk of stones. – Michael S Judge, Lyrics of the Crossing References and Further Reading: Baudrillard, J. (2005). The Intelligence of Evil or the Lucidity Pact. Berg Publishers. Benjamin, W. (1969). The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. In H. Arendt (Ed.), Illuminations. Schocken Books. Brautigan, R. (1967). All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace. In All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace. The Communication Company. Curtis, A. (2011). All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace [Documentary series]. BBC. Edinger, E. F. (1984). The Creation of Consciousness: Jung’s Myth for Modern Man. Inner City Books. Eliot, T. S. (1922). The Waste Land. Horace Liveright. #eikonosphere #eikon Frankl, V. E. (1959). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press. Jung, C. G. (1968). The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious (2nd ed.). Princeton University Press. Judge, M. S. (2014). Lyrics of the Crossing. Black Ocean. Nietzsche, F. (1974). The Gay Science (W. Kaufmann, Trans.). Vintage Books. Nietzsche, F. (1989). On the Genealogy of Morals and Ecce Homo (W. Kaufmann & R. J. Hollingdale, Trans.). Vintage Books. Romanyshyn, R. D. (2007). The Wounded Researcher: Research with Soul in Mind. Spring Journal Books. Tacey, D. (2004). The Spirituality Revolution: The Emergence of Contemporary Spirituality. Routledge. Taylor, C. (2007). A Secular Age. Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Yalom, I. D. (1980). Existential Psychotherapy. Basic Books.   Website: https://gettherapybirmingham.com/ Check out the youtube: https://youtube.com/@GetTherapyBirmingham Podcast Website: https://gettherapybirmingham.podbean.com/ Podcast Feed: https://feed.podbean.com/GetTherapyBirmingham/feed.xml Taproot Therapy Collective 2025 Shady Crest Drive | Hoover, Alabama 35216 Phone: [phone] Fax: [phone] Email: [e-mail]

Hey guys, it's Joel with the Tabaret Therapy Collective podcast. And I haven't done like a big article, essay, podcast in a minute. We've done a lot of interviews and things. And I also get some feedback from people because I get really excited about an idea. I'm kind of obsessive. Like I get on a thing and then I try and like learn a ton about it. And then I want to talk to somebody else who's like really smart about that thing. And I try and line up guests that have, uh, you know, something to do with, uh, you know, something that I hope is relevant to you and psychotherapy

and culture and politics and all that, but also, um, something that I'm obsessing over and, um, have been learning a lot about. And then when I get on the interview with the guests, a lot of the feedback that I've gotten, it's like, hey, shut up, you're interrupting the guest. And maybe one way that I can be better about having more of a conversation and not, you know, interrupting, you know, I'm interrupting too much. That's not a good thing, is to sit with some of these ideas. And in sitting with some of those ideas in an essay thing with just me, you know, you just got to listen to me, it's easier to go into an interview. So anyway, something I'm trying out. And recently, this has to do with the topic today.

I was reading Michael S. Judge's book, which is Lyrics of the Crossing. It's a really good novel. And the thing in the beginning of it, there's a section in the beginning that I think is relevant to what we're talking about today. So I'm going to read that. The watcher's eyes now give out light. The light's receiver flower, coiled up behind their nose bones, changes place. It crawls out through their pupils, the bundled nervy flowers making a circuit between each other. Bolts the color of limes Boil forking through the busy air Their brains are still inside them

But the sundown is made to simmer With a brain that none of them quite have alone And each one has something like it Facets of the brain's shelled diamond The cage-strumming man Str strings out his carousel of shapes, while catgut thrums out slippery chords, and the people watching him are in the circuit of an ancient battery that sleeps behind their eyes, and none of them will know how to tell what has happened,

but everyone will know that it can happen again. And they'll say, I was a tree. I was a vine that sucked the brass work. I was an ivy knot that lived on the milk of stones. So that's from Michael S. Judge's Lyrics of the Crossing, which I'm not very far into. And it's a description which has a whole lot going on, you know, probably talk about that for an hour. But also it's a description that is of a bard, you know, like a performer singing a song, doing some kind of performance. And in the section before that, he talks about the catgut cage because, you know, the strings of old tennis rackets the strings of old instruments were made with cat gut but he describes the lyre or whatever this guy is playing like it is a cage he calls it a cage stringed with cat gut but it's an instrument

and if you think about um you know classical mythology who plays the lyre? It's Orpheus, right? And the lyre makes such beautiful music that he can call a soul out of the underworld, except for the one he wants. He has this beautiful lyre. But here, Judge is calling it a cage that is trapping something. And there's something going on there about the music basically pulling these people's brains outside of their eye holes because the sunset, like the setting that they're in, or the time that they're in maybe, we don't know if it's a sunset on a beach or the sunset that

he's describing of an epoch changing of culture, connects all of their brains, right? Like what a wild description. The lights receiver flower coiled up behind their nose bones. That's your brain. It's the receiver flower coiled up behind your nose bone that receives the light, right? The cage, the instrument, the culture, the music pulls these people's brains either because of the time that they're in or the place that they're in something about this setting and he calls the brain he says faucets of the brain shall dime and they're only like a piece of a whole thing when they're pulled out and connected that connection and there's a battery language there's a circuit language it's an electricity becomes something that is bigger than them and also alive, right? So it's this connection that makes something bigger than all of these people alive in a way that they're a part of it and they know it, but they also don't know it. And there's just

so much there. Um, and I, I, if that doesn't make sense, that's fine. I think a lot of those themes are going to be relevant to what we're getting into. You know, the sundown has made the sundowns made to simmer with a brain that none of them quite have alone. You know, we are building a circuit by connecting people with a culture that is also a cage. And it is making them something that is not them by connecting them, right? And this is, this book is like 900 pages. Like, I don't know how I'm ever going to read it. This is on page 14, okay? The whole novel is written like this.

It's not a book of poetry. I can't really tell you. I mean, I would already recommend it, but I can't really say much more about how to recommend it to you because I haven't gotten beyond, you know, I think I'm on page 50 or something of this giant book. So I'm going to get into what I'm talking about today, which is the era that we're in is characterized by this hyper-rationality that if you can't see it, taste it, touch it, it's not real. And a lot of that comes from science and this pursuit of objective truth, production, accomplishment, consumption. And the human psyche that you see culturally, it finds itself just adrift in all of these pieces of culture and images that aren't really functioning like

culture and image used to mean. I mean, they're disconnected from these previous myths that used to give us purpose. Like they're the same symbol that's reminding them of something, but it's something that we don't quite believe anymore. And there's a lot of things that are traditional or hierarchical that seem hollow or erroneous. I see that coming up all the time in therapy now. And I see patients every day that describe this phenomenon, and they don't use those words, but it's as if they are saying, I don't know who I am anymore, but I don't know who i am anymore but i don't know who i am anymore not because i changed because all these nodes and reference points that i used to have in a culture to contextualize my identity have been stripped away and they've been made foreign

and they've been incomprehensible i can't grab onto it anymore. But the world looks the same. I remember it. It didn't change, but it looks the same, despite the fact that it is making me feel alienated and terrified and upset. And so it's not the aesthetics of the world that are different. The aesthetics are the same, but the effect that it has on me is different. But I can't see that. I can only feel that. So what the hell is it? Why? I must be crazy, right? Because I'm looking at a world that looks the same, but none of these symbolic images are working in the way that they're supposed to work. And so because the world looks the same, we feel crazy. When really it's our feelings that are telling us that the world is crazy,

even though it looks the same. And, you know, like, what do we do as therapists or patients just looking to find a therapist that kind of gets this somewhat? You know, effective therapy in this modern world, it needs to go over, it needs to get over its insecurities of the therapist feeling or looking crazy, okay? You know, if we don't let ourselves as therapists admit to patients that we also feel this pain and that we also feel crazy from these same forces, then how can, if you can't acknowledge these, then how can therapy,

or if you're not even aware of it as a therapist, because you are feeling it, then how can therapy do anything but gaslight us more? You know, we see the news, and like I see the news when I'm in a dentist's office or i have i've been recently have been sick like six times which is why i'm been gone for so long but like i feel when i look at the news like i'm on drugs even though i'm sober it's just like what is happening on tv like and i and i don't mean that I disagree with what's happening. I mean, I largely do. I mean, like, it doesn't seem real. Okay. It's a bigger issue than I don't like it. It's that it

makes me feel like I don't understand what's happening. Like this is, it's surreal. And, you know, I know that the people on the TV don't believe what they're saying and they're kind of, but they, even they look like they're going through the motions of something that isn't real anymore you know all angles of this you know and i'm not a politician i'm not a god i'm a therapist and so i'm paralyzed against these forces too you know as my patients are i can't do anything about them all i can do is reckon with them and in reckoning with them um you know like i can tell the patient i don't know how to do that you know i don't know how to reckon with these things but they are real what you are feeling looks true you know i'm turning on the news and people are trying to get me to fight about these

culture war things and it's like i can't really afford american cheese as somebody who makes like a pretty good salary for my kids when they want to have a sandwich in the park like can we talk about that can we talk about roads can we talk about health care and we're so far beyond that where the things that we're talking about are so many levels of like pretending to be things that other people pretended in the 80s that even they didn't believe and it seems so alienating and confusing. So, you know, I didn't understand the line that James Hillman was really, he was a Jungian analyst I've talked about before, but Hillman was really fond of quoting Auden, W.H. Auden, the poet. And I never really understood his fondness for this line until recently. And I've come around to it, but it's, we are lived by forces that we pretend

to understand. You know, the real stuff of our lives is coming through us. And by the time we think we know why we did it, that's gone, right? It's, you know, this kind of rope of life is just being pulled through you, um, in this way that's kind of depersonalizing there. Um, there's a line that I wish I could remember from, Prophet, that book. I should have grabbed that book. I always try and grab a bunch of things I might need to get into when I start to freestyle and then I don't always remember everything that might pop into my head over the course of an hour. But, you know, Auden's line, that highlights like how the frameworks and philosophies that we resort to for certainty, when we want certainty,

when we want order, when we want to feel stabilizing, they're kind of delusional. Sometimes it's a helpful delusion or a necessary one, but they're not real. And this grand meaning-making system of religion and science and politics and all this stuff that we feel like is supposed to give us some kind of certainty is failing to and so this cultural dominance when we put these forces of empirical science and all these things on this pedestal and expect them to do this for us but they're not doing it anymore you know we are feeling all of this anxiety and we cling you know tenaciously to these conceptual concepts and these hyper-real simulations because the alternative would be admitting that there's ambiguity, there's contradiction, there's unfathomable doubt that we all are having. And that seems like it would be too destabilizing. So the iconosphere is an idea by a philosopher, Baudrillard.

And one of my friends did an art... Actually, I don't know if he finished it. He might listen to this. But anyway, he did a... I'm remembering the first time he told me about it, which is a story I'm not going to tell. But he told me about this idea when he was reading a lot of this philosophical school called the simulacra, which is something that is a copy, but it doesn't have an original.

It's sort of a copy that replaced the original, but the original also was never real. So you get this paradox there because a copy is supposed to be a copy. And so when you say, okay, it's a copy copy but then there isn't a thing that it copied you have all of this you know philosophical stuff you can dig into if you want to drink some um bordeaux and uh make undergraduates miserable in france and so like the the econosphere is this conceptual idea um that jean beaugard talks about which you know i'm not you know know, I'm not, you know, a philosopher, I'm not an expert in any of these things, but there's this idea that, um, the iconosphere is this place, this sphere where there's these images that circulate and they multiply and they create

this hyper reality that creates the real world. And that we're in this place where we're seeing all this stuff that is like real vivid, more than real. But at the same time, those were the images. They don't really represent anything anymore. Um, they're referring to this external reality that is outside of reality, but then the hyper reality of reality is telling you that this is all there is. And so there's this sort of gaslighting effect of that, um, where we feel like, you know, the world that we're in is self-referential, it's self-generating, and there's something outside of it, but also the world is telling you that there's nothing outside of the world you're in. And so some key ideas here, you know, the realm with the simulacra, those copies and those simulations have replaced the original

and the authentic thing. A lot of correlations with something like LI, uh, AI or LLMs, the large language models that's going on now where, you know, you can look at it and you may, your brain may think it's real for a second, but another part of your brain says, no, like, I don't, I feel something bad with some of these images or some of this writing where you're halfway through an article and then all of a sudden it doesn't work. Um, but you don't know why it didn't work, you know, because of the grammar's right. It's real, but something knows it's not real. Um, and so this world of appearances and surfaces, all depth and meaning are lost. You're cut off from a source that these things used to point to, but it's no longer there. And in this realm of fascination and seduction where these images, they captivate you and they manipulate you, but also they're not real.

But then you are real and their effect on you becomes reality, which is sort of what I think he's getting at. You know, again, not a philosopher, not into a lot of these schools. I understand their influence and their ideas. And when they're relevant to something, I don't, you know, I can't teach a class on this, but, you know, in this world of illusion and virtualness, you know, it's virtual reality, right? A lot of these people I think are anticipating and describing virtual reality before virtual reality exists through intuition. They're in touch with these ideas. And it doesn't mean that you can see the future, but you can sort of see what society is doing, like this direction that it's going in.

That even after you're dead or 100 years after you're dead, it's not going to stop because you see these balls rolling and you know where that leads. And that's how they come to these ideas i think um so the implications of this like iconosphere unraveling is there's the symbolic order and it's profoundly disorienting like it's upsetting and you're always bombarded by these images or you know spectacles you know i'm hearing a voice of another person I went to school with a long, long time ago. But it produces this crisis of meaning and this sort of like impenetrable distance from you and the thing that is close to you, that you're right next to. So all these paradoxes and tensions here. And so these signs and reputations, they become unhinged from anything that they used to be hinged to.

They used to point to something, but what they point to is something we don't remember anymore. Reality becomes a dead language where we can see the script and we can say, well, I think this comes from, you know, an early Semitic language. I think that this is, you know, maybe like a proto runic script because it looks sort of like modern, but we don't even know what it's trying to say. But it's all that we have to hold on to and you know when i so sitting with that remember in high school when you had to read t.s elliott's the wasteland you know and one of the first line is that you know only a heap of broken images right so you know this crisis of meaning um that is is so that a french philosopher is talking about well here's a British guy at the end of World War one who everybody did the thing that they thought that you had to do because it made life good you put on the uniform

you marched out you went and you did it glory and country and all of a sudden it's not working anymore the machine gun doesn't care how brave you are you know the trenches have destroyed this country. And so, so much of the wasteland, which I really like, I could talk about the wasteland for an hour. I do like the wasteland. Um, like I do like Elliot a lot there, there are all these things that you are like witnessing an image and then you're almost starting to have an emotional connection to it. A lot of times those images are upsetting. Like you don't like it, like the conversation about getting new teeth. And, you know, this person cheating on their husband, like you're, you're affected by it, but you're it's not good.

But then before you can even react to the badness of it, you're ripped away from it. The whole wasteland is like this shifting kaleidoscope. It's it's kind of an upsetting poem to read, but in a way that is really interesting because it is giving voice to this thing that I think we all feel, not through philosophy and kind of, you know, deconstructive, you know, postmodernism, but through poetry. And this heap of broken images that he's talking about in the very beginning, I think that's what he's telling you. He's like, I'm not going to even tell you this story. I'm just going to let you feel a little bit of what it's like and where we're going here.

And, you know, that theme is very similar to, you know, and if you want to jump back and listen to me talk about it, that mysticism versus objective, or not objectivism, the objective versus the mystical, that episode, I cover this, but Edward Edinger, you know, the post-Jungian, he's a Jungian analyst, and he says basically that there's an objective part of our brain that what we can taste, touch, and feel, which I'm going to say with more neurological, you know, science available to me than Edinger, that is the prefrontal cortex. That's a lot of these event-related potentials that are using the front of my brain and then there's a mystical base of the brain um mysticism that is yes trauma is stored there so a lot of those reactions are

like unpleasant and upsetting but also like my intuition you know maybe my soul if you want to get really mystical these things that don't fit into language, they don't fit into knowledge, but they're still real. How do I know that they're real? Because the person is back being like an enlightened atheist or a scientist being like, oh, you think your emotions are real? I know they're real because I can see every single person acting on all of this archetypal energy and I can read history and I can see that that never ended and that that probably never will. So yeah, they're real. Okay. Um, and these two parts

of the brain, the subjective, which is the emotional, um, uh, and the, um, you know, maybe it's sort of childish from one perspective, but it's also, if it's overindulged, but it also is like our intuition, which tells us like what our purpose is. And like, if we're happy and if something is just good, you know, like when I look at the direction culture is going with these large language models and these different things, I just know that it's bad. Like I know it's cutting,

not because I'm afraid of it, but because I feel like it's moving in the direction where we're putting more and more resources away from the things that make us human, like education and community and psychology and not connection with nature and a take your shoes off and go to a Dave Matthews concert, you know, the hippie way, but like connection with nature in a way that like we need it to live. And if we don't have a planet, we die, you know, big things like that. I can, yeah, make a logical argument for that, but I'm realizing, you know, the logical argument that I'm making is because I feel this intuitively first and that isn't coming from this logical place.

So Edinger says, you know, like these two things, the subjective and the objective, there are two parts of the brain. You know, one is glommed on as a newer addition, basically, through evolution. And they don't want to be in the same head. And so they tend to kind of fight and repress each other and you know a lot of what freud is trying to describe with the unconscious and imperfect language that i don't like and a lot of freud's biases built into that you know jung refines in a way that i think makes it a lot more universal and explains a lot more like history and mythology and culture and like early latent psychology a lot better than Freud's model does, you know, like, you want to go back to the Venus of Willendorf and talk about like the id, like,

it just doesn't work in the way that Jung's model describes that. And so same thing here, right? You know, I don't want to lose the thread too much by qualifying Edinger, but you have the idea of the iconosphere you have the idea of the wasteland you know and there are you know from a jungian perspective at the core of our human experience there are these archetypal energies that are biological unconscious drives they defy reason but they are still part of us and that you so you know edinger is is going through that and he has a picture that he draws where he's like you know thank god for the catholic church or something well i mean he doesn't say this in the picture but he like he shows like here's a religious or political system that is functioning well and here's yourself and it has all these archetypes

that it's projecting out that they don't have to directly encounter the divine they don't have to directly um be in touch with this archetypal source because that community is telling you oh you want to be a helper go be a social worker your your church is saying you want to do something with the messianic energy here's jesus here's the messiah oh here's the good mother you know the virgin mary you know, the Virgin Mary, you know, like, you know, our culture and our democracy does that too. You don't have to be religious, you don't have to be Catholic, but you're being told, like, you don't have to go out and figure out what to do with these from the beginning of reality. Like, you're a caveman, there's a whole cultural construct that teaches you to hold these archetypes so when you have and it can be a secular deity but you know he even says on his diagram i think um i'll try and look up where i

took a picture of the book a long time ago because the book has long been lost but um that's one of those books i think i've bought like five times that and dominion of the dead is another one that robert poke Harrison like there's some books that i i think i i would i probably spent more than like three hundred dollars buying paperback copies of some books. But like the secular deity could be capitalism, like it could be communism. And when it breaks down, and he quotes in this diagram, he quotes Eliot. He doesn't say that, but I guess he thinks that you would be familiar with it. But he says there's this heap of broken images where all of a sudden there's nothing containing these forces.

Like I'm just going out and I'm feeling something and I'm having to figure out what to do with it. Even if I figure out a couple of them, I'm not going to figure out all of them right. And if society and our religious and political systems are in crisis, all of that energy just hits you and you can't figure out what to do with it. And you start acting on intuition in a way that is unconscious and that is bad. And what that looks like is neurosis and psychosis um it can look a lot like schizophrenia you look at some of the conspiracy theories here and i'm not telling you which one to believe or not to believe but if you look at them you can look at the same people and it's like the next day they're like well the 5g is going through the aliens and whatever and you're like wait a minute i thought you said that there was a secret pedophile cabal and that like this person did

yeah yeah that too but no no there's a new it's like no but that isn't consistent like you're saying a different thing every day and these things don't fit together well it's because it's archetypal it's not logical you know right like there the system has broken to where we're feeling all of this stuff we're looking at this world where it is failing to contain um reason essentially like it's not making We're looking at it, and the people who are saying these things don't even look like they believe it anymore. They don't even look like they're trying to. And that creates this dissonance of like, well, this world must not be real, so what is real is this thing that I can feel. And there is a danger to that. And again, this isn't a new thing. You know, like I talked in our cults and conspiracy theories a lot series about how like when these systems break down

historically, people do start to say they believe in magic. They start to, because you know, when people are in crisis, they gravitate towards a magical system. They gravitate towards making meaning that way. And, you know, so Edinger is another, and what I'm trying to do is throw a bunch of people at you that are saying the same thing, I think, from a different perspective, intuitively, with very different language. Because I think that when you go into these places intuitively and you confront these things honestly, and you don't discard science and just call yourself a wizard, it's fine to do that. But if you don't do that and you try and understand the role that science can play, but you don't limit yourself by the role science can play, you also are in touch with this kind of archetypal and inherently subjective part of the brain that you just can't objectify it. You can't

turn it into a screener, you know? Like we can't turn everything that we're going to work with in therapy into something that we can assess with a number. We just can't. Um, when you, when you sit with both of them, you end up saying this, something like the iconosphere, like the wasteland, like ego and archetype, the Edward Nettinger book, you say something kind of like the lens that Nietzsche uses. You know, Nietzsche sees logic as a form of insecurity, which is really interesting to me, because it's true. Like, when he's writing, what he's saying is he's looking for these people who are very logical empirical either philosophers or scientists that are looking for these like very rational examinations of truth they think there's an

absolute truth that they can find if they can just spin their intellectual gears you know wheels enough and and that he sees that as this confession that those people are terrified and anxious and looking for a certainty that is not real it was like um that you would build this monument to your intellect and your ego only when you are so afraid that you're gonna die and not matter and be unimportant and that no one would do that if they don't think that way right like if you have a whole society build you a pyramid a giant pyramid you're kind of afraid of dying, right? Because that pyramid is telling on you, hey, the Pharaoh thinks that they're going to not live. And so they've made this whole thing of if I make this insane tomb with all these traps

and my body stays there, the Ba and the Ka will come out and it'll go visit my relatives. Basically, everything that I want to do, you know, I have to make it hard and that makes it real. Right. And then I have to involve the culture in it and that's going to make it real. You know, that's the Pharaoh doesn't want to die. Okay. You know, the pyramids are a great example of something that serves like no practical strategic military, even political purpose. Like everyone resented the pyramids. They were a big point of contention it's only a psychological thing for the leadership you know to have that and so there there's like so much truth in what nietzsche's doing when he he says that you know science and philosophy um obsession with science and philosophy

with the logical nature of those things the empirical nature of those things he's not against them but when there's this obsession with the empirical and objective parts of them taken to an extreme, it's an unconsciously projected psychological struggle. And that you can use that to analyze, psychoanalyze, you know, the author of these works. And there's so much truth in that. Like when I had a patient come in one time, I've actually had a couple of people come in, um, cause they see existential, there's a joke. Okay. There's a joke that like we make it consultation groups sometimes that like when a patient sees existential therapy on your bio and they come in because they want to talk to an existentialist, the last thing that they actually need is existentialism. Um, I've had multiple patients that have come in and

have quoted that, um, Oh, what's his name? I don't remember that have come in and have quoted that um oh what's his name I don't remember that anyway they've quoted the French play where they say you know that hell is other people and when they say that I know this that isn't relevant like what other people do or what you're how other people like the point what you're telling me is that I feel like I'm in hell and so that's where I start, you know, as a therapist. And so, you know, Nietzsche's arguing that these more philosophical work, they present, you know, the people that present this stuff as just pure logical analysis, that's going to get to this truth. That's kind of this grandiose insane claim that lets you know

that they're crazy. Um, or, you know, crazy. That's, I don't, I don't mean to be, um, too hard on some of the people that Nietzsche talks about, but like they're cut off from this other part of themselves that they don't want to be real in a way. Right. He's saying the same thing that Edinger says. I don't think if you got these guys at a table that they would all agree and be like, Oh yeah, we all figured out the same thing. I don't think that at all. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that they're responding to solving the same tension and in a way that is unique to them, which is really what we as therapists and patients, as we move into this modern realm, like that's kind of what we all should be doing and teaching our patients to do. Like if there's a future for therapy,

if you want to find a point to this article or this essay, it's well, this list of notes that I'm reading, then I'll probably, um, you know, try to get, you know, an LLM to transcribe what I'm done talking is and put it on the blog is like that. We have to make patients with these tensions and figure out their own language and their own way to do this. If there's a future for therapy, it's that, you know, amidst all of this broken images, it's not more logic. Um, it isn't more of the things that are failing and it isn't pretending that those things aren't failing. That's the worst thing that we can do. Um, it's in the same way that you can feel right? You can find your model for therapy. You

can find your model for being a person in life, you know, to heal yourself through Nietzsche, Edinger, you know, the idea of the iconosphere, a poem like The Wasteland, a million other examples if I had, you know, another day, you know, to think about the stuff I would come up with, or kind of reconciling the same tension. And you can see that these people don't agree. They're not doing it the same way, but they kind of are, right? And that's the paradox, if you want to look for a point of this. So, I mean, instead of trying to, like, impose these pre-existing frameworks of meaning onto a patient's existence, they come to me meaningless, and then I give them a framework for making

meaning. I think we have to make them make their own meaning, which is harder therapy to do. It's hard to teach because the therapist has to sit with their uncertainty too, to teach the patient to do it. That's why I'm not telling you how to do this. I'm not saying how I do it. You know, I'm saying, I'm trying to get you to feel it, you know, when I, when I write something like this. So like, you know, by learning to let go of this need for certainty and control and cultivate the sense of openness and creativity in the face of the unknown, you know, the patient can begin to discover themselves in a more authentic and empowering way. But there's long dark nights of the soul here.

It's hard, right? You know, what's the Simone Bay quote about that? When the patient is in the labyrinth, we or not the patient, but the person is in the labyrinth, you're walking on this dark track and you don't even know if you're going in a circle. It feels like that, that knowing that you have to keep walking, even if you may just be walking in a circle until you starve and die is part of the process that you have to face in order to heal. That you have to keep going, even knowing that you going somewhere may mean that you have to face in order to heal. That you have to keep going, even knowing that you going somewhere may mean that you're not going anywhere. That you have to go through that.

You know, and what is it, Fritz Perls? I got my Perls here. So the Gestalt therapy guy said, you know, the aim of therapy was to help the patient come to this point where they could live with uncertainty without props. I think he says without props. Which is a funny word. That almost is perfectly referring back to something like the iconosphere.

That there's this feeling that we have to conform in order to belong. And that we have to get these things that are the symptoms of a healthy life or a happy life but we don't actually have to confront our insecurity and know what that is he says that the person has to learn you know to live by their own resources which means not the therapist resources you can't tell them how to do it and so walter benjamin is another one who, again, I'm not an expert on this, but he's reflecting on a lot of these same ideas. And he's talking about the shock experience, that we live in this culture that is constantly causing us shocks and wearing us down to nothing because this need to have constant consumption for economy under capitalism means that there has to be constant production which means that the things have to age because there has to be a new thing you know and he's writing really at the beginning of the

age of what would turn into a culture driven by mass production. I mean, he sees mass production, definitely, but not its effect on culture. Like now, you know, think of the news cycle as different in 12 hours. Like you sound like you're, if you're like, hey, remember the thing that was a scandal like two months ago? No one even knows what you mean.

You know, something like when I was a kid, the Clinton scandal, like it was like two years of like the same thing. And now like, it was like two years of the same thing. And now you don't even remember what the last thing was. Well, products do that, computer, everything has to be replaced. And that those perpetual shocks, what Benjamin is saying there, is that there's this ubiquitous experience that is kind of traumatic and is always happening.

And so we don't even feel it anymore. Like we become numb to it. And that those protective barriers that used to be ritual and tradition and collective meaning are eroded by you just having to participate in this litany of consumption and production in order to participate in culture at all. And that leaves us incredibly vulnerable. And it also makes it very hard for us to know why we're doing something, because everything that we're doing is something we have to do, not something that we want to do or something that we choose. I was thinking about that today when I wanted to like hang out with my friends and I

took my son for a walk. And it's like one of the first times I haven't been sick for like a month and a half and just the first minute that I had and I called my friend and I was talking to him and I was realizing my neighbor up the hill had said like hey why don't we hang out and I was like in my head I was like look I don't even get to hang out with the people who I know like all I do is like work at Taproot and then see my kids if I have any time off like yeah you seem like a nice person but like I don't even get to hang out with my closest friends like when am I gonna walk up the street and do whatever when then I was kind of repulsed by that internally and was like why can't I have a community and go hang out with my neighbor he seemed like a nice guy but I'm realizing that like

and my patients were saying the same thing about like they were lonely and wanted to do this but everything that we do is something we have to do because everything is tied to this notion of production and consumption in this way that has accelerated culture so much that we really don't have that much free time and we really don't have that much choice you know like i wouldn't run a therapy collective probably if i was a millionaire and didn't have to work I just wouldn't I would do something else I would go hang out with my neighbor up the hill um but I think that that speed of culture is sort of what he's getting at there that there's these you know insights that everything I mean and I get more of like a felt texture from what I've read I'm not not at all an expert on him but it does seem like more of this kind of felt experience of

just being worn ragged by the pace of everything and giving, and that being something that's hard to do. So I'm going to try and wrap this up. Um, but that we're always in the same way that, you know, capitalism is making you produce and consume these things, um, you know, just content to have, to sell, to whatever. That's also kind of applied to culture. Like we have these inner images, we have these outer images and we're constantly like manufacturing and replacing those things. Um, and like we can start to be more aware of our inner world and we can start to understand

what we've internalized. I'm trying to take something from him that I can turn back into a therapy point. And some of these images that were internalized that we have to have, my life has to be this, it has to do that or culture, whatever. I mean, that may be from a value system that's 30 years old now, or, or just not mine. You know, like look at these images that are internalized because we also project and react to those externally, you know, and, um, and make a choice. The things that you have inside of you, that's, that's an option. You know, there's, I'm not want to give like two practical language for this, um, or, or two, like, I'm not trying to make a new model of therapy here. I'm trying to point to how therapy has to change if it's going to be relevant. And some of it is just sitting with like, Hey, what did you absorb from the world? Like, is that a good thing?

Do you want that in you? Are you participating in that thing? You know, externally, just because you have this inward image that you can discard? Or are you letting something that you think is like not real in the world, this thing from, you know, that basically is, you know, a symbol or a reality that used to be something relevant that you don't even care about and form your inner world, maybe you should have more of a filter or a barrier to that, you know, talking about these kinds of cultural forces i think is important um and so uh i know i had talked about adam carter's a couple times but the the movie that i refer to a lot because i don't think that all of his are great um i think

that they work more i won't get into that i think the ones that are kind of metaphorical work more than the ones that are literal but um like the all-watched-over-by-machines-of-loving-grace film that Adam Curtis did that's like a documentary that's kind of deconstructing some of these cultural forces. I really like that one. But the name of it is based on – because I think if you want to pull like a point from that movie, it, cause it, it sort of defies a point. Like none of Adam Curtis's movies are ever like, we set out to prove this, but what we actually found scared us even more.

And what is, there's no thesis. Like it's this very felt sort of art film thing, but if you want to pull a thesis out of all watched over by machines of loving grace, like I think what he's saying is that when we started to make a culture and it got way worse way faster when we uh invented computers because it entered our you know i guess the iconosphere like it entered the way that we thought about the world which changed the way that we thought about ourselves but when we started to conceive of people like

computers that could be programmed that were just machines, that if we made the perfect circumstance to control them, that their behavior would be a hundred percent predictable, that you could design a culture. Like that's when things went south because we're not computers. Like we don't fit into a binary, you know, because like computers don't dream, you know, like computers we we are driven mad when we can't dream because we're humans and computers think in binary like they are machines for processing information um and if you want to say like oh maybe chat gpt5 is going to be sent here or something no it won't because so much of like what i've tried to say with these articles with like our line of thinking and looking at psychology in the weird

way that we look at it on on this podcast is that our humanity kind of comes from the tension between two things that don't want to be in the same head and so much of our anxiety and so much of our vibrancy and our beauty as humans but also like our madness is trying to solve this paradox of these two things that don't go together that are a paradox they are mutually exclusive like they do annihilate yet they can't because they are part of the same thing right a large language model is essentially a just predictive engine it's just saying this word was connected to these words with this probability in this way. How much money do you want me to spend crunching the numbers in the

CPU on a server to predict how likely it is that the word is going to go next to this one? And you can get a really good equivalency of language if you spend a lot of money and your burn rate is really high on your company that's designing this llm ai thing and you can get a very poor approximation of language that is writing in comparative sa you know fifth grader voice if you don't spend very much that's it that can't become sentient because it is a spreadsheet it is a very complicated spreadsheet it is not there is no philosophical tension that makes us human um which is what i would call you know our humanity um so to wrap this up you know that that poem that all watch over by machines of loving grace is named after which is all watch over by machines loving grace a poet richard brodigan is i think an electrical engineer some kind of engineer in the 70s so this is like so

70s i'm not gonna read the whole thing um i'll put it on the blog post of this when i when i get it written probably by an llm um after i transcribe it but it was like about uh you know so yeah okay so i got the point uh here's here's the beginning of it i like to think and the sooner the better of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together and mutuality and programming harmony like pure water touching clear sky i like to think right now please of a cybernetic forest filled with pines and electronics where deers stroll peacefully past computers as if they were flowers spinning with blossoms okay so the poetry sucks it's not a very good poet um but the idea

here that is interesting is this person just thinks that like basically machines and nature you know like computers and nature are inherently the same thing and one day we'll sort of like synthesize into the same thing right the end of mass effect one if you play video games or i guess three spoiler alert um like the that is so nuts that i think curtis takes it and one of the things that this guy did that he goes on about in the um he goes on about in the documentary is that he was trying to make a circuit diagram of all of nature because he thought you could reduce all of nature to these completely empirical objective things and so he was trying to draw like a little thing of like oh you know

the deer eats the grass and so that's like plus five amperage of energy that goes into the battery of the deer's leg but it has to go through the resistor of the deer's uh digestive system and point you know 1.5 of the amps are turned into poop or whatever i don't know like he's trying to play dnd with a meadow and turn everything into you know an, an attribute. And that is wild. That's just real wild. So that kind of thinking, I think, is dangerous. And that's why I mentioned that in here. So, you know, these days of psychoanalysis, which psychoanalysis basically starts the same way. Freud says, like, we can take every single part of the person apart, we can label it, we can teach them what it is. And then when they put it all back together,

um, the, it'll work because they don't know how the engine of their car works. And it's just like, I taught my 15 year old how to, I don't have a 15 year old, but I'm just, and Freud didn't either, but well, I guess he did at one point, but he didn't teach her how to drive it civic. So like, it's like the person being like, yeah, I taught my 15 year old how to drive the civic. She knows how to check the oil. She knows how to do this. She knows how to take it apart if it breaks, whatever. For we thought we could do that with a brain in the same way that Richard Brodigan thought that we could do that with nature in the same way that Adam Curtis is criticizing, you know, that, like, you were just building this engine. But that doesn't work, you know. And if you look at a lot of the post

Jungian writers, especially David Tacey, who I really like, I think he's like one of the most nuanced and honest about dealing with Jung as a person and his like real, you know, um, he doesn't project on Jung at all, um, in a way that a lot of analysts do. Um, but Tacey talks about this idea of the post-secular sacred. That's a really good book that Tacey wrote, if you want to read a David Tacey book. But he has this idea that in the beginning of time, we believed in magic because we had to.

We were evolving. We needed to believe that we had control over the sun and the moon, and we just saw these psychic pillars of humanity, and we asked them over the sun and the moon and we just saw these psychic pillars of humanity and we asked them to help us and feed us and like whatever and um we projected our own psychology onto a world that was dead and um and that made it alive like us it made a part of us and that kept us healthy and that was this first kind of epoch of myth and then science comes along and they say like, no, no, no, that's actually irrational and crazy. Like, don't do that. What you can do is just label like every

single thing and then understand what it is. And then you can just become, you can build anything you want through objectivism. You don't have to deal with magic. You don't have to deal with subjectivity. You don't have to deal with uncertainty. Maybe we haven't figured it out yet, but we will figure it out and you'll know everything. And so instead of like begging God to help you, it basically science would, you know, empower us to feel like we are the gods, which is, I would argue, a worldview that is failing. Because I don't know about you, but I don't feel like God. I think younger people feel worse. They feel like they have less certainty, yet we have this hyper real, ultra logical,

ultra production focused, ultra consumption focused, scientific empirical reality that is telling us that we feel good, but we know we don't. And the thing is, that's how I know that these are not logical realities, that Nietzsche is right, is because we don't feel good, right? So you can do the math problem and say it proves that this, I should feel fine. And the culture is saying I should feel fine. And I have all the images and the stuff around me of a healthy life. I have all the symptoms of being happy. But guess what? You don't. Okay. And that voice that says you're not is real. And the first step in getting back in touch with this stuff is admitting that it is real, even though you can't see it and touch it and taste it and

sort of re-achieving balance between these things. So, you know, like what does that kind of therapy look like? Again, I'm not making a new model of therapy um but this could like lead us to understand inner wisdom and and compassion and the stuff that i talk about all the time instead of driving trying to just strive to perfectly understand and control and so you know patients could start to understand like how to embrace the uncertainty of life um and and that being a good thing or an inevitable thing a thing that maybe makes us terrified but also motivates us um i had a cbt therapist which a lot of cbt therapists are great therapists even though i don't like cognitive therapy if you code a lot of cbt therapists they've just done it long enough that they

may say they do cbt they're not really doing CBT anymore. I had a CBT therapist and he said, turn your fear into anxiety. Or no, I'm sorry. He said, turn your like fear and anxiety into motivation and excitement because it's the same energy. It just matters how you interact with that energy and what you're telling yourself about it. It's the same

emotion. I wasn't afraid. I was excited because I wanted to change. And I didn't know how I would, or if I could, but feeling it that way was so much better for my brain. And so because therapists, this is hard because we have to admit that we're adrift in this uncertainty and that these systems are failing that we don't know how to fix. And you're, you don't want to offend the patient's politics or you don't want to make them more depressed. Well, you know, they know this anyway, how much respect do you have for yourself and how much respect do you have for your patients? I mean, who, oh, well, like whenever I hear a therapist be like, oh, they're just not ready to hear the greater. I'm having to listen to her go on about this kind of narrative,

but she's just not ready yet to know. You don't respect this person. I used to see teenagers, and I still treated them with the respect that I would give an adult. Who do you think you are? You're maybe just not ready to have that conversation with them. I just don't get that kind of therapy at all. I'm there with you as a therapist. I think good therapists should be. I'm not like judging you and analyzing you and deciding, you know, when you're mature

enough to whatever, you know, and guess what? I mean, the therapist, you say that when is the patient ready? They aren't the therapist, the relationship falls apart in four years. And then they just say, oh, they weren't ready to go there or whatever. You know, like the therapists who say the patient's not ready, like I never see them get the patient ready. You know, as somebody who has talked to a lot of therapists for a long time and been in that world for a long time, and also talked to a lot of therapists who do kinds of therapy I don't do. So, you know, we have to be honest with patients. But in doing that, we run the risk of seeming stupid. We run the risk of seeing unqualified because, oh, I don't

know what to tell you. So this will end. So I guess I'm not good enough. You know, we run the risk of seeming crazy. If you have those insecurities, deal with them and then go into therapy, right? Like deal with those insecurities if you're a therapist, because you're not stupid, you're not unqualified and you're not crazy, but yeah, somebody may think you are, what does that do to you? You know, we don't know how to do this as therapists either. We can't pretend to, and we don't know how, but we have to develop the, I mean, maybe it's a post-secular faith or something, but we have to develop the, I mean, maybe it's a post-secular faith or something, but we have to develop an intuition to know which direction that we go in, even if we don't really

know how this ends or which direction to go. And we must do like all of this in a culture that has given us nothing but a heap of broken images and a whole mess ton of uncertainty for a long time. That's what it's done. And so for the postmodern self, you know, how does that fit into a world? We just, we can't rewind the clock. You know, the YouTube video where somebody makes an argument and they're like, oh, you know, we have all this woke culture or this corruption and this bad thing. We just need to go back and be the Roman empire. Like how the hell are you going to go back and be the Roman empire? Like I've never heard a single one of those people, other than they just don't like a group of people,

have any kind of idea how you make a world full of billions of people forget that the last thousand years happened. Or 500, or however far you want to go back. And then just say, remember, none of those cultural things are an option anymore. Could you just kind of forget that? That's wild. You can. Like, we are in post post-modernism. Um, that's where we are and we are lived by these forces that we pretend to understand, like Auden says. And, you know, these archaic currents that are coming through us of this archetypal life are perpetually destabilizing any kind of

rational narrative or personal identity that you try and make which can be terrifying or it can be exciting it's the same energy and yet these are not obstacles that should just be mastered you know they're i wouldn't put this on the treatment plant. They're this raw material of their creative thermals of wind that you can fly on. And now maybe you have to surf on sometimes. You know, therapy becomes this art of presencing the interplay of potentiality and metabolizing things. And if you want to go in an alchemical language, a Jungian way, and talk about alchemy,

that language works too. But this goal of psychotherapy in this post-secular, post-empirical world, where we realize the limitations of science, and we realize the limitations of mythology alone, or magic, believing in magic, whatever, we realize the limitations of mythology alone, or magic, believing in magic, you know, whatever, we realize the limitations of that, you know, like, it can't go after this absolute truth. Not just because Nietzsche will make fun of you, but it has to help patients develop this capacity

to face the unknown with courage and curiosity and compassion by embracing a more humble, intuitive approach to mental health. And we have to admit that we don't know. We have to admit uncertainty. We have to sit in uncertainty and we can help individuals find meaning in a world that is always going to be in change. Because if you're waiting for the environment to change, like it doesn't always, especially when that environment is culture, you know, uh, but we can cultivate resilience. Um, and if you're scratching your head and you're like, I don't know what to do that. I don't know how to do that. That's, that's fine. That's good. You're thinking about it. I don't know how to do it either, but I have faith and I feel that faith is more real than what I know.

And the future has always been a simulacra, right? The future has always been a copy without original because the past is built on all these copies of inner images that people were externalizing, sometimes consciously and sometimes not. And all we can learn is to recognize these images inside ourselves and these images outside ourselves and the interplay between those how we're taking them in how we're taking them out and make a choice make it a choice instead of an unconscious process and you know our lives are always this interplay of forces that we cannot we can't prevent or defeat that but what we can do is learn to build behavior and and cultural machinery to handle the dynamics of the flow of those forges forces i don't know if anyone's seen

patriot on amazon it's good but i think the book that like the his engineer boss writes is called like the the dynamics of flow or something um he's it's, it's, he's an engineer. Um, but like we, we are lived by forces that we pretend to understand, but we have to remember too, that they are lived through us. You know, we are lived through them and they are lived through us. There's an interplay that we, and we can have some awareness of that tension. Um, and that is scary because it makes us a little bit less of an individual. It makes us a little bit less of an individual. It makes us a little bit less of a monolith or this monadic thing that is going through life. But that isn't life.

You have archetypes within you. There are archetypes outside of you. We can look at how these things are knocking together. But that means that you have to let go of what you are right now or this thing that's completely in control because you're not you know when i was in psychotherapy i remembered that there were all these drowning and swimming metaphors in school too and like that you know just there's a ton of like well you got to learn to swim sometimes the backstroke whatever and you know you're trying to do the if you're floating on your back and the or you know like yeah that that protective part it was helping you out and it was a stick that kept you float in the river.

But now the stick is about to go over the waterfall. And if you can't let it go and swim to the shore, if you keep holding on to the protective part, you know, all of that stuff, but maybe the sea is just too rough right now to teach patients to swim like that has changed. And we can't do that. And we need to teach patients how to sail both. You know, Freud taking apart the whole engine and trying to teach the patient how to be a speedboat or fix the speedboat, not going to happen. The sea is too rough to swim. But we can teach them to be in conversation with these forces

in a way that is sustainable, like through sailing. And maybe we can build a culture that can learn to, like, sail and cruise ships again. You know, um, maybe we can be in conversation with the storm, um, because it's not going to go away. And if it does, it's not going to go away because of magic, because of anything we did. And it's not going to go away because of science. We are in a storm, and I think that instead of trying to swim, we need to remember to breathe, and we need to remember how to use the wind. Thank you. Продолжение следует...