Shamans and Analysts

New Insights on the Wounded Healer

John Merchant

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2012
• eBook ISBN: 9781136619168
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: Mental Health in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

Shamans and Analysts provides a model by which to understand the wounded healer phenomenon. It provides evidence as to how this dynamic arises and gives a theoretical model by which to understand it, as well as practical implications for the way analysts' wounds can be transformed and used in their clinical work.

By examining shamanism through the lens of contemporary approaches to archetype theory, this book breaks new ground through specifying the developmental foreground to the shaman archetype, which not only underpins the wounded healer but constitutes those regarded as 'true Jungians'.

Further areas of discussion include:

• Siberian shamanism
• contemporary archetype theory
• countertransference phenomena in psychotherapy
• socio-cultural applications of psychoanalytic theory.

These original and thought-provoking ideas offer a revolutionary way to understand wounded healers, how they operate and how they should be trained, ultimately challenging traditional analyst / analysand stereotypes. As such this book will be of great interest to all Jungians, both in training and practice, as well as psychoanalysts, psychotherapists and counsellors with an interest in the concept of the wounded healer.

Chapter 1

The ‘good analyst’ and the ‘true
Jungians’

At the Fourteenth International Congress for Analytical Psychology's symposium on training, for which the theme was ‘What makes a good analyst?’, Guggenbuhl-Craig (1999) alluded to a ‘shaman archetype’ as one which is likely to be present in an analyst regarded as ‘good’. In so doing he placed shamanism as conceptually central to analytic work. He began by saying, ‘To be a good Jungian analyst, I have concluded, is a talent with which, if you are lucky, you are born’ (ibid., p. 408). He saw training as being about refining that talent, which he later described as an ‘inner drive’. In his view, the talent arises from the activation of certain archetypes, three of which are dominant within analysts and which would need to be present for an analyst to be regarded as ‘good’. These are the ‘healer archetype’ (which he sees as essential although some reject it), the ‘shaman archetype’ and the ‘alchemist archetype’ (exhibited in the ability to symbolize).

Guggenbuhl-Craig defined shamans as those who can leave their bodies and make contact with ‘demons, with gods, with other dimensions of human existence’ (ibid., p. 409) which could be broadly conceived as the transpersonal realm. He went on to draw a parallel between this and analysis by saying that ‘We analysts show the patients these other dimensions. For instance we put them in touch with the unconscious’ (ibid., p. 411) and this is especially seen through work with dreams which, in his view, is specifically based on the shaman archetype. Guggenbuhl-Craig concluded that ‘the selection of future analysts is more important than the precise compulsory organization of the training. We must receive with open arms the ones who have talent and refuse the ones who have no talent’ (ibid., p. 411).

Given the overall significance suggested by Guggenbuhl-Craig's comments and the connection to being a ‘good analyst’, his assertions are highly significant because they not only place shamanism as conceptually central to analytic work but also have implications for the selection and training of analysts.

Shamanism has always occupied a place of considerable importance in Jungian discourse. Jung (1918/1991, 1930/1991, 1931/1991b) seemed to see it in two main ways – first, as an archaic archetype important in earlier human prehistory but which has emerged in recent times to compensate for the West's over development of rationalistic consciousness; and second, as reflective of the individuation process and especially the place of suffering entailed therein. Whilst the views of post-Jungians on shamanism span a broad range from its connection with the countertransference (Stein 1984) to its deliberate evocation in psychotherapeutic work (C. M. Smith 1997), all writers seem to hold a classical view of it, namely, that it is one archetype of the collective unconscious which will be in existence prior to any experience an individual may have of the world. Given the presence of shamanic practices within native American culture, a significant position within the USA has emerged which not only sees the shaman archetype as part of humankind's ‘sacred heritage’ but also as one which it would be in our best interests to access (see Sandner and Wong 1997). This perspective reflects a fundamental belief within the classical Jungian position that archetypes of the collective unconscious are unaffected by personal experience and if activated can be potential wellsprings of healing and meaning.

It was Jung (1954/1990c) who also saw a connection between shamanism and the concept of the wounded healer for he says in ‘On the psychology of the trickster figure’ that

the shamanistic techniques in themselves often cause the medicine-man a good deal of discomfort, if not actual pain. At all events, the ‘making of a medicine-man’ involves, in many parts of the world, so much agony of body and soul that permanent psychic injuries may result. His ‘approximation to the saviour’ is an obvious consequence of this, in confirmation of the mythological truth that the wounded is the agent of healing, and that the sufferer takes away suffering.

(p. 256)

Jung is alluding here to one of the common cross-cultural features of shamanic initiation, what Eliade (1964) called a ‘pre-initiatory illness’ in which candidates experience unsolicited states of derangement entailing dismemberment imagery and extreme distress. But it is not until the initiates can demonstrate mastery over these derangements that they are recognized by their sociocultural others as functioning shamans. The eventual mastery underpins the shaman's capacity to act as healer within their tribe and it is in this way that Groesbeck (1989, p. 267) understands the shaman to be ‘the wounded healer, par excellence.’ It is quite plausible then to view both shamanism and the wounded healer as aspects of one and the same archetype although Groesbeck (1975) and Guggenbuhl-Craig (1989) speak of a wounded healer archetype in its own right.

Whilst the general concept of the wounded healer has become quite popular across a range of other psychotherapeutic schools of thought, the central Jungian perspective in seeing both shamanism and its wounded healer component as reflective of underlying archetypal configurations is an important theoretical position because of its relevance to the selection, training and actual work of analysts. As Guggenbuhl-Craig (1999) suggests, the detection of those who have the shaman archetype is crucial at the time of trainee selection. Analyst training would then need to involve activation of the archetype and a progressive refinement of its application in ongoing work. Consequently, von Franz sees a ‘shamanic initiation’ (as cited in Kirsch 1982) as central to the vocation of being an analyst and Kirsch (1982), when considering the place of personal analysis in the training of analysts, summarizes her position as follows:

Von Franz has discussed the vocation of the analyst in the context of shamanic initiation. In primitive tribes, the shamanic initiate is the one who experiences a breakthrough of the collective unconscious and is able to master the experience, a feat many sick persons cannot achieve. Von Franz emphasizes that such an experience must occur in the analysis of a candidate as part of the training of an effective analyst.

(p. 391)

In relation to actual analytic work, Groesbeck (1989, p. 274) goes so far as to say that it is only those who ‘function as shamans in the therapeutic process dealing directly with the patient's illness in order to produce a transformational healing experience’ who can be considered the ‘true Jungians’. Given that the functioning of these ‘true Jungians’ is understood in the classical view to be dependent on the activation of an actual shaman archetype, it becomes crucial to have a clear understanding of ethnographic shamanism and its pre-initiatory illness component on the one hand and Jung's classic theory of archetype on the other. This is especially so given the more recent contemporary views of archetype based on neuroscience research unavailable to Jung when he wrote. These approaches to archetypes suggest they are not innate a priori psychic structures but are better understood as emergent and developmentally produced mind/brain structures forged out of the intense affective experiences of infancy and which once in existence, have the capacity to directly influence psychological life.

Consequently, this book addresses a significant gap in the literature by assessing shamanism and its wounded healer component in light of these new developments in archetype theory. Indeed, there have been very few systematic attempts to evidence both shamanism and the wounded healer as archetypes, it so often being assumed since Jung's time that they simply are so.

Furthermore, Sedgwick's (1994) previous overview of countertransference from a Jungian perspective aligned it with the wounded healer concept but the connection to shamanism was not really developed. For those others who also speak to the wounded healer tradition, no particular wounds or zone of wounding ever seem specified apart from the self-evident aspect of general human vulnerability and suffering. The new emergent/developmental models of archetype when applied to shamanism and its wounded healer component have the capacity not only to specify the zone of wounding relevant to analytic work but also to identify the particular psychological construction emerging from the wounding. This provides the means for explaining the somatic and embodied countertransferential experiences of the ‘psychic infection’ kind which Samuels (1985a) has specified.

‘Psychic infection’ was a term Jung coined in 1937, for from his clinical experience he was aware that there can develop between analyst and patient a zone of ‘mutual unconsciousness’ leading to ‘inductive’ effects on the analyst which are usually felt in the analyst's body (see Jung 1937/1993). He came to see these unconscious influences as highly important pieces of communication and further argued that ‘their nature can best be conveyed by the old idea of the demon of sickness. According to this, a sufferer can transmit his disease to a healthy person whose powers then subdue the demon – but not without impairing the well-being of the subduer’ (Jung 1946/1993, p. 72). The connection between the ‘psychic infection’ way of working and shamanism could not be more succinctly stated.

Since the psychotherapeutic use of such countertransferential ‘psychic infections’ many see as the quintessential Jungian way of working which, when mastered, leads to the ‘good analyst’, what is also highlighted is that this style of working reflects the ‘true Jungians’. Alarming to some will be the evidence presented in the following chapters to do with the relevant psychological construction of the ‘good analyst’ for it is suggestive of something ‘proto-borderline’. But I believe that it is this psychological construction, derived from woundings in the earliest stages of infancy, together with their sufficient self-cure, which underpins the wounded healer of the ‘true Jungian’ kind and which ultimately makes for the ‘good analyst’.

And so to the wounded healer.

Chapter 2

The wounded healer

Introduction

Within the helping professions the concept of the ‘wounded healer’ has become a particularly popular notion so that its use occurs across a range of strikingly diverse modalities including nursing (Conti-O'Hare 2002, C. Jackson 2004), psychodynamic psychotherapy (Holmes 1991, 1998), trans-cultural psychiatry (Kirmayer 2003), humanist psychology (Stone 2008), palliative care (Laskowski and Pellicore 2002), psychotherapy training selection (Barnett 2007, Mander 2004), the clinical use of the countertransference (Sedgwick 1994) and the history of medicine (S. W. Jackson 2000).

Such use would indicate the concept is understood to be of some central importance. This is probably because it acknowledges that all persons working in the helping professions are vulnerable human beings who carry their own individual wounds and that these can be brought to bear on their healing work in a positive way. Jung (1951/1993) puts it this way:

We could say, without too much exaggeration, that a good half of every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor's examining himself, for only what he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in the patient. It is no loss, either, if he feels that the patient is hitting him, or even scoffing at him: it is his own hurt that gives the measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician.

(p. 116)

Later, in his autobiography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Jung (1963/1990) amplifies these points on two occasions:

Only if the doctor knows how to cope with himself and his own problems will he be able to teach the patient to do the same.

(p. 154)

And later:

What does he mean to me? If he [the patient] means nothing, I have no point of attack. The doctor is effective only when he himself is affected. ‘Only the wounded physician heals’.

(p. 155)

According then to Jung, analysts cannot facilitate their patients’ growth to a point where they themselves have not been. Nor should they be fearful of their own wounds for they can be the measure of one's healing power. Later research has confirmed this view by consistently showing that the character of the therapist and the therapeutic relationship are directly related to therapeutic effectiveness (see Wolgien and Coady 1997).

In The Nurse as Wounded Healer: From Trauma to Transcendence, ContiO'Hare (2002) stresses that central to the notion of the wounded healer is the need to accept the mutual vulnerability of both practitioner and patient, and further, that the concept entails the idea of the potential transformation of suffering. As such, wounds are seen as an avenue to transcendence and a conduit to healing knowledge because they derive from some crisis that precipitates transformation and spiritual awakening. It is with acknowledgement by practitioners of their vulnerability that wounded healer dynamics can be turned into practical therapeutic action because awareness of one's own wounds hones empathy. In this perspective, the idea of the wounded healer underlies the use of empathy, which is one of the key ingredients discovered by Carl Rogers (1961) and others at the Center for the Study of the Human Person that leads to positive change for clients.

On this issue, Hayes (2002) coins the term ‘empathic duplication’, that is, making therapeutic use of one's own experiences which in some way parallel those of the client. He maintains this can lead to ‘deep empathic understanding’ and that the therapist achieves this through ‘intentionally calling to mind – or at least intentionally being open to – a personal experience’ (p. 96). Similarly Miller and Baldwin (1987) see the therapist's conscious attention to their own wounds as leading to healing. They conclude that ‘the therapist's acceptance of his own wounds through conscious awareness of his vulnerability contributes to a sense of wholeness, which in turn enables the patient to do the same and, thus, empower his own healer’ (p. 150).

As can be seen it is a consistent emphasis among many of these writers that the health professional's own vulnerabilities and/or wounds can hone their clinical use of empathy as well as their therapeutic insight. As such, they provide strong recommendation that therapists actively and consciously engage with their own wounds and vulnerabilities. Remen et al. (1985) put it this way:

There is no essential difference between the two people engaged in a healing relationship. Indeed, both are wounded and both are healers. It is the woundedness of the healer which enables him or her to understand the patient and which informs the wise and healing action.

(p. 85)

Michael Whan (1987), on the other hand, in his ‘Chiron's wound: Some reflections on the wounded-healer’, somewhat reverses things. He certainly sees empathy as the capacity to ‘feel into’ the patient's inner life but notes it is this which can lead to woundedness (what he calls ‘empathic wounding’). He says, ‘To be open empathically is to be open to the other's shadow and disturbance’ (p. 202) and it is this which raises an important question for him – do therapists respond this way because of their own wounds or are they just taking upon themselves the wounds of the patient?

From a Jungian perspective it is quite understandable for Whan to conclude that this ‘empathic wounding’ is an experience taking place ‘in the context of the unconscious’. What he is really highlighting, however, is Jung's concepts of ‘psychic infection’ and the ‘inductive effect’ of the patient's unconscious on the unconscious of the analyst. This is a notable shift in perspective, for whilst the conscious use of one's own wounds in psychotherapeutic work as advocated by so many commentators is commendable, Whan's view that the patient can in some way ‘wound’ the analyst, and the questions which this then poses for him, are important.

The concept of ‘psychic infection’

‘Psychic infection’ was a concept Jung (1937/1993) introduced into his discussion of psychotherapeutic work when he said:

If . . . he [the analyst] is neurotic, a fateful, unconscious identity with the patient will inevitably supervene – a ‘counter-transference’ of a positive or negative character. Even if the analyst has no neurosis, but only a rather more extensive area of unconsciousness than usual, this is sufficient to produce a sphere of mutual unconsciousness, i.e. a counter-transference. This phenomenon is one of the chief occupational hazards of psychotherapy. It causes psychic infections in both analyst and patient and brings the therapeutic process to a standstill.

(pp. 329–30)

Jung is describing here in a particular way, the emotional responses activated in the analyst as a result of their engagement with the patient. The early psychoanalysts formulated their discussion of such emotional responses through the term ‘countertransference’. The problems Jung particularly highlights here in relation to the countertransference are unconscious identification; the analyst's possible neurosis and an occupational hazard with the main problem being a ‘sphere of mutual unconsciousness’ leading to psychic infections. A noteworthy list. When considering erotic countertransferential reactions, the ‘occupational hazard’ issue is certainly very real given the occurrence of sexual actings out by therapists, which makes this an issue of critical importance to psychotherapy.¹

At the time, Jung's statement above accorded with Freud's (1910/2001, 1912/2001) view that countertransferential responses were an interference to psychoanalytic technique because they introduced the analyst's personal material into the process which interfered with the ‘evenly suspended attention’ he recommended.

A case example of ‘psychic infection’

In his paper ‘Symbolic dimensions of eros in transference-countertransference: Some clinical uses of Jung's alchemical metaphor’ Samuels (1985b) describes an arresting consulting room occurrence four years into the work with a patient from a difficult family background which succinctly illustrates the unconscious psychic infection kind of experience:

I had the very strong impression of being in an enormous desert, at the bottom of a wadi. Looking over my shoulder I could see my footsteps stretching into the distance. I felt a thirst so intense I thought I should have to excuse myself and leave the room to get a drink. Instead, s...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Shamans and Analysts
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Tables
• Acknowledgements
• 1 The ‘good analyst’ and the ‘true Jungians’
• 2 The wounded healer
• 3 What is shamanism?
• 4 Shamanism and the wounded healer as an archetype
• 5 Contemporary archetype theory
• 6 A re-evaluation of Jung’s classic theory of archetype
• 7 The developmental side to the shamanic wounded healer
• 8 Case study: The Siberian Sakha (Yakut) tribe
• 9 The Siberian shaman’s wound: A ‘borderline type of case’
• 10 Evidence that the Siberian shaman is proto-borderline
• 11 Conclusions
• Appendix A: The implications of Knox's emergent/developmental model of archetype
• Appendix B: Borderline personality disorder
• Notes
• References
• Index