To study Zen you must penetrate
through the barrier of the ancestral teachers.
To learn the Path you must come
to the end of the road of mind.
When the road of mind is cut off,
the whole body appears.
It’s like a person drinking water:
she knows for herself whether it’s cool or warm.
When you reach this stage,
do not ask just anyone about it.
If you can find a real Zen teacher
show them how your mind is working.

 —T’aego (1301-1382)

Psychoanalytic training always begins with Freud.  He was responsible for pointing us in the right direction to understand the subtle and dramatic influences on our thoughts and feelings. My first encounter with his work happened in our beginning year. We held a “reading Freud” session.  Everyone took a turn to read a passage followed by a discussion of his theory and our impressions of his thinking. At the time it felt almost sacred, the passages held a biblical quality that was embodied in our measured reading of each word.  I found myself gazing up at a great wall of knowledge about the mind and the Path before me held many uncertainties. Will I be able to have three patients willing to meet with me four times a week for two years? Can I meet all the writing requirements and meet the expectations of my supervisors? My road of mind threatened to block my experience of the water I was drinking. It was in the moment-to-moment encounters with those who rested on my couch and allowed themselves to dream with me that I stepped off that road and drank the water. The wisdom of the Analytic teachers challenged and resonated with my mind. The Path became illuminated with my experiences in analytic training which allowed me to cut off those uncertainties and walk with gratitude for the great work of Freud and those who refined and expanded his theories as we discovered more about the mind. The whole body of our shared embodied experiences in life appear before me. My steps are sure on this wonderful path.

 

Pure morning, near the old temple

Where early sunlight lights the tree tops,
My path has wound, through a sheltered hollow
Of boughs and flowers.
Here birds are alive with mountain light,
And the mind touches peace in a pool,
A thousand sounds are quieted
By the breathing of a temple bell.

— Ch’ang Chien

Seven years ago I began a journey that has wound through many sheltered hollows. I return to these entries along with the early sunlight as a psychoanalyst. My vow to perceive the boundlessness of reality is strengthened by the deeper understanding of my fears and desires. I sit with those who seek the same thing. As they face away from me on “the couch” and dream aloud of the thousand sounds that dominate their mind we find the temple bell of their true self. Our journey reaches the light and the dark that dwells beyond awareness. We discover links to the past that open new vistas along the tree tops of their basic assumptions about who they are. A new life emerges and they are liberated from the dread that shrouded possibilities and inhibited their curiosity. The journey of psychoanalysis allows the mind to find that pool where peace can be touched and the birds and flowers and boughs of joy and imagination are brought to life.