From the Introduction

This book contains chapters that were edited from lectures presented at the 1989 annual meeting of the Inter-Regional Society of Jungian Analysts, hosted by the Institute for the Humanities at Salado, Texas. The conference, which was dedicated to Joseph L. Henderson, the dean of American Jungian analysts, grew out of my offer to organize a meeting on the subject of closeness. For the book, I invited other authors to contribute chapters that I believed were necessary to round out the subject.

Since the conference was in Texas, I had originally thought of calling it "Cactuses, Porcupines, and Other Prickly Things." Then I realized that people might think it was a convention for naturalists, so I opted for "Closeness." Yet the porcupines brought to mind these words of Arthur Schopenhauer:

One cold winter's day, a number of porcupines huddled together quite closely in order through their mutual warmth to prevent themselves from being frozen. But they soon felt the effect of their quills on one another, which made them again move apart. Now when the need for warmth once more brought them together, the drawback of the quills was repeated so that they were tossed between two evils, until they had discovered the proper distance from which they could best tolerate one another. Thus the need for society which springs from the emptiness and monotony of men's lives, drives them together; but their many unpleasant and repulsive qualities and insufferable drawbacks once more drive them apart. The mean distance which they finally discover, and which enables them to endure being together, is politeness and good manners.

Closeness, then, is about intimacy and distance, decency and ethics. It is about attachment and loss, domination and dependency, transference and countertransference, touching and sex. Closeness is at the very heart of human relationships.

This theme seems to me to be one of the central issues of our times, in personal life to be sure, but especially in professional relations. Just how "close" can or should be the relationship between therapist and client, doctor and patient, teacher and student, supervisor and candidate? The message of this book focuses on relationships characterized by power imbalance and hierarchical order. It speaks not only to people in the fields of psychology and analysis, but to all individuals in the helping professions; to anyone interested in organizational psychology; to people in business, education, the ministry, and the military; to lovers and families.

Part One, "Therapist and Client," begins with June Singer's fascinating review of the subject of androgyny, contrasting Freudian and Jungian points of view. The anima and animus archetypes and the Jungian concept of the contrasexual unconscious are explained and illustrated by case material showing the tensions and understanding of both the analyst and the analysand and the healing power of the rituals of control.

Thomas Kirsch's sensitive and candid chapter, "The Analytic Relationship," relates discoveries he has made about the nature of the relationships of his patients to others and to himself. Differentiating between closeness within the analytic relationship and the phenomenon of transference, Kirsch addresses the issue of the analyst's self-disclosure to the patient. He describes his own personality and typology and shows how these affect his experiences of intimacy, connectedness, and love with his patients and how this is viewed within the real parameters of analysis.

The commentary by Kendra Crossen on "Closeness and the Patient" brings to the book the feeling reaction of a patient who sought the help of a Jungian analyst without the complication of being a candidate. She offers a literary, reflective observation of the anticipation and fantasy of the woman and man in analysis and reality. By drawing attention to the presence of love and silence, she reveals both space and relationship in the closeness of healing.

I have contributed a chapter on relationship and dreams of a psychologist patient who developed AIDS while in training analysis with me. I continued his treatment until his death, recording all of his dreams, the feeling tone of the analytic relationship, and its change as dictated by the reality of his physical illness and certain death. His role in the in-depth teaching video tape on AIDS made with professional caregivers was to him his legacy. Closeness was healing even to death.

The compelling poem by Carol Mouché is an expression of the pathos of a hidden inner dialogue when she was a psychotherapy patient. The inner dialogue of the patient may be inferred by the therapist, but it is far better to see the patient's own recollection of inner dialogue. It is equally useful for the therapist to become conscious of his or her own inner dialogue.

Peter Rutter, the author of Sex in the Forbidden Zone, writes on relationships of closeness and trust using the mythology of Hermes, Mercurius, Loki, and Coyote—the trickster, guardian of the boundary, and boundarymaker—to give a practical and theoretical Jungian perspective. The differentiation between sexual fantasy and overt sexual behavior distinguishes the boundaries of relationship in analysis. The real dangers of breaking through such boundaries by insensitive, hurtful actions, gestures, or comments are told in a straightforward manner by an analyst who knows the healing power in relationship.

"Confidentiality and Betrayal in the Therapy of Anne Sexton: A Dialogue with Diane Wood Middlebrook" presents a vivid and thoughtful discussion of the relationship of Sexton with two of her psychiatrists. The 1991 publication of Professor Middlebrook's biography of the well-known poet provoked a debate over the release of audio tapes of Sexton's therapy sessions to her biographer by one of the therapists, as well as the revelation of Sexton's affair with the other therapist. My essay is uncomplimentary to the first therapist and condemns the grossly unethical behavior of the second. The intriguing part of this chapter is the way "things" are hidden and how they are revealed. Incidentally, my dialogue with Professor Middlebrook in this chapter was drawn from an informal seminar at the Salado Institute that took place before the controversial biography was available to me; hence it is a candid discussion, unaffected by the furor in the press that occurred later.

Psychoanalyst Montague Ullman's chapter, "Image and Metaphor: Dreams in a Small-Group Setting," discusses the role of closeness in dream seminars he conducts in which all participants are on an equal level whether they are sharing their own dreams or helping to interpret someone else's. Ullman's ideas are original, creative, courageous, and free of doctrinal analytic jargon. They are intended to bring dream appreciation to the general public and for use in teaching dynamic psychotherapy. In creating a safe environment for the exploration of dreams, Ullman shows us how the analysis of the unconscious can be examined following the disciplined rules of technique and conduct that define his groups, allowing emotional healing to take place in an interpersonal field.

"Transference/Countertransference" grew out of my seminars with psychiatric residents and psychology trainees at the University of Texas in a required course in analytical psychology. It is a manner of writing and speaking at the same time in free verse to people interested in learning the nuts and bolts of Jungian psychotherapy.

In Part Two, "Family and Society," Joseph L. Henderson's chapter on social attitude addresses the rituals of initiation and cultural attitudes as archetypal phenomena. Through personal reflections and literary and clinical examples, Henderson shows us how the social attitude has three aspects—personal, cultural, and archetypal—and that the true individual is the true social person.

Eleanora M. Woloy draws our attention to the stereotypical roles and myths of man and woman, and particularly to the archetypal feminine principle. From informal interviews and clinical experience, Woloy concludes that the capacity for closeness in relationship proceeds from the central organizing archetype of the psyche, the Self.

Thomas Wilmer, my son, writes a chapter on being the "Son of a Psychiatrist." With sensitivity, affection, sincerity, and courage, he reveals how his analyst father's career and professional demands affected the family, especially my relationship with him. Tom tells of the satisfaction and relief he experienced when I changed from being a Freudian analyst to a Jungian analyst. This is a reflection not only of social attitudes and biases, but of the reality of the particularly orthodox classical Freudian world of San Francisco and how he saw its effect on me.

In "Closeness in Personal Relationship," Mary Ann Mattoon writes on the varieties of modes and models of psychological relations, closeness, intimacy, sexual attraction, and love. She examines the nature of psychological relations, especially the notions of projections and individuation, within the conceptual frame of Jungian thought.

Starting off Part Three, "Among Professionals," Karl E. Weick's chapter on the organizational management of closeness in Jungian training societies brings his genius to bear on the conflicts that learned societies face when they must carry out the functions of both training and of judgment on a person's acceptance or rejection into the society. He comes close to suggesting that this is an impossible task, especially given the nature of the Inter-Regional Society, the largest Jungian society in the United States, with its expanse from coast to coast and from Canada to Nassau. The problematic issues of survival, subordination, and the inherent liaisons are so clearly presented that this chapter should be required reading for all who are concerned with training and learned societies.

In "The Candidate," James Shultz writes tactfully and wisely about role diffusion and trust, fairness and indiscretion. He describes the Inter-Regional Society's practice of conducting candidate interviews in an analyst's hotel room during annual meetings, with five or six analysts asking the one candidate penetrating questions. One cannot help wondering about such group interviews with their clear potential for the misuse of power. Shultz describes his own feeling of being "opened from stem to sternum." I have sat in on such group interviews and can attest to the distressing lack of sensitivity to group dynamics and the blindness to the shadow of power of some analysts.

Unfortunately, the deficiencies of such an analyst will mark the deficiency of the analysis, so that the candidate, like an abused child, when certified and sent out into the world is driven by the compulsion to find similar ways to abuse others in the name of analysis. That this is true of only a small number of analysts does not mitigate its importance. It is the conscious understanding of such phenomena and their correction that motivates this book—it is not an exposé but an attempt at an honest look both within and beyond the confines of an analytic society.

The companion chapter by Joseph Wakefield draws our attention to the power differentials and explains his own painful learning experiences as a supervisor. He draws our attention to his view of the tensions in supervision in regard to openness, self-disclosure, and the complications of playing the dual role of supervisor and judge with the power to fail the candidate. He elaborates on these ideas from the perspective of a variety of psychological schools of thought. In the supervisor's overview of Jungian societies by surveys, it is important to note that these are impressionistic inquiries of rumors, not facts. Although the information is therefore hearsay, it nonetheless should alert the reader to the abuse of power by analysts, including sexual exploitation and seduction of any sort.

The final poem is my reflection on the emotional impact of coming to the end of analysis from the point of view of the analysand. This is often spoken of as "termination," but it is not "terminal" but rather separation and a new beginning.

It is hoped that this book will contribute to the necessary openness in examining ethical issues related to closeness, intimacy, and distance as seen from a variety of experiences. But always there is our conscience and shadow as our necessary, even if unwelcome, teachers. Jung wrote:

Conscience, and particularly bad conscience, can be a gift from heaven, a veritable grace if used in the interests of the higher self-criticism. And self-criticism, in the sense of an introspective, discriminating activity, is indispensable in any attempt to understand your own psychology. If you have done something that puzzles you and you ask yourself what could have prompted you to such an action, you need the sting of a bad conscience and its discriminating faculty in order to discover the real motives of your behaviour. It is only then that you can see what motives are governing your actions. The sting of a bad conscience even spurs you on to discover things that were unconscious before, and in this way you may be able to cross the threshold of the unconscious and take cognizance of those impersonal forces which make you an unconscious instrument of the wholesale murderer in man.

Harry A. Wilmer