Evening mountains veiled in somber mist,

One path entering the wooded hill:

The monk has gone off, securing his pine door.

From a bamboo pipe a lonely trickle of water flows.

 -Ishikawa Jozan (1583-1672)

Grief is no longer considered a psychological disorder. Grief is a natural part of life. It embodies difficult feelings and unique challenges for everyone who faces this life-changing experience. We gather in times of loss, holding each other against the lonely path we will walk at some point in our lives. The complications that arise in this experience are brought into my office. My clients struggle with a sense of being lost or unable to move on from their deep sadness. We walk together in the somber mist and find refuge in the evening mountains. This space enables us to realize the profound changes that are unfolding and the beginning of a new life. The difficult thoughts and feelings become guides that reveal a new path. To relinquish old attachments and readjust to life without a loved one are the tasks of mourning. We carry the one we lost in our hearts where they remain in a perfect loving embrace. The complications of that relationship resolve into a meaningful presence that connects us to the infinite circle of life.   

 A solitary winter lantern

Casts a feeble shadow

Wind blows through

My flimsy hut and

Covers me with snow

I remember sitting

Cross legged on Wutai;

A makeshift door amid

The thousand year old ice.

-Han-shan Te-ch’ing

Mt. Wutai is one of four sacred mountains in China. It is home to 53 monasteries and a destination for pilgrimages. When my clients enter my office, we sit together and consider the storms of sadness and worry that dominate their thoughts and feelings. The connection between us becomes a lantern that clarifies the shadows of basic assumptions about themselves. We transcend the blowing wind as we discover new ideas and insights into the struggles that bind them to feelings of helplessness and hopelessness. This shared space becomes a refuge for us to work through the anger and fear that covers their thousand year old enlightened mind and allow the true self to emerge from the storm.

 That which was fixed, moves;

the hard becomes soft.

The earth is like waves,

my house like a boat.

A time of dread,

but also of charm:

Wind bells chime without rest,

though there’s no wind

-Kokan shiren

Strong feelings color the world in singular shades. Our thoughts tend to be more encompassing, and we are left with the assumption of a world that is good or bad. To hold all the different feelings in mind is the work of mindful reflection. Our capacity to know the hard and soft and manage the waves of day-to-day life requires practice. My clients take their place on the couch or chair, and we consider all the parts of their lives with careful consideration of the dread and the charms that rise and fall without rest. We work together in the analytic space to deepen our understanding and appreciation of their rich and nuanced life that offers endless possibilities so that what appears to be fixed moves and evolves in the dynamic context of our continual growth and development.

 

 The mind seeking for truth

Begins, like a stream, shallow

At first, but then

Adds more and more depth

While gaining greater clarity.

 -Saigyo 

People come to psychotherapy or psychoanalysis because they are seeking a better way to manage the stressors in their lives. It has been my experience that when I offer some strategies that have been proven to be effective, the unanswered question of why things are difficult can undermine the strategies and even compound the difficulties. The shallow stream of symptoms provides an opportunity for someone to deepen their understanding of themselves and gain greater clarity of who they are. We explore the depths of their singular truths with an open mind. The journey becomes an essential part of their identity where they can utilize new strategies with self-confidence and greater resilience to the difficulties that life brings.

 At the moment of awakening,

The Buddha exclaimed:

“Wonder of wonders!

All living beings are

truly enlightened and

shine with wisdom and virtue.

But because their minds

have become deluded and

become attached to a self,

they fail to understand this.”

 --Kegon Sutra

 

One of the exciting developments of psychoanalysis is the identification of attachment styles. We all come into this world with essential attachments to our parents and caretakers. Infants cannot survive on their own so the relationship with the one who feeds and cares for us is necessary for our ability to develop the means to care for ourselves. This leaves a powerful impression and becomes a frame of reference for our experiences in the world. At the heart of these changes is our true self, that part of our mind that is aware of the thoughts and feelings linked to the experiences that can define who we are. To understand this and allow our truly enlightened mind to shine we can consider all of our thoughts and feelings with a genuine curiosity that is not driven by guilt, shame, or anger.

 The mind is all sky,

The heart utterly empty,

And the perfect moon

Is completely transparent

Entering western mountains.

--Saigyo

 

The Zen concept of emptiness can be misleading. To be utterly empty is to be utterly open to life's moment-to-moment experience. I have been listening to many people this past week. They come into their sessions afraid and angry about the election. We sit together and step into their fears with boundless minds to deepen their understanding of the strong feelings they are experiencing. We focus on self-care and self-advocacy while acknowledging the uncertainties we all face in this time of transition. By opening that space for the transparent and perfect moon of our self-awareness we can enter this uncertain time with loving-kindness and compassion for ourselves and others.

 The teaching of the one vehicle that reveals the true nature holds that all sentient beings without exception have the intrinsically enlightened true mind.

From time without beginning it is permanently abiding and immaculate.

It is shining, unobscured, clear and bright ever-present awareness.

It is also called Buddha-nature, and it is also called “tathagata-garbha."

 From time without beginning deluded thoughts cover it, and sentient beings by themselves are not aware of it.

 

Tsung-mi

 

I think about Emily Dickinson and how hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul. When someone sits in my office or lies down on the analyst couch, I believe that their intrinsically enlightened mind will be realized as they tell me about their life and their struggles to cope with the demands of this world. Our conversation follows the links that bind their assumptions to the meanings they hold about themselves. We create our inner world from the beginning of our life. As infants, we learn but do not have the capacity to understand how we learn. Our strategies for survival emerge as our needs are met or frustrated by those who care for us. Over time those strategies reside as a basic assumption about ourselves and others. Critical life events become mileposts in our life’s journey. They initiate points of change that can distance us from our true mind.  When someone embarks on the journey of psychotherapy or psychoanalysis. I sit with them, and we travel through those basic assumptions that cloud their enlightened true mind. Thoughts about themselves become points of interest, and I help them to sit with their anger, fear, and shame with a curious and unencumbered mind. Possibilities emerge where certainties are held firm, and their unobscured and ever-present awareness allows for a more integrated and balanced identity.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

 

 

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.