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Words Written From Experience |
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Theory is not the same as experience. The difference confronts me daily. A student complains that she gets a headache from listening to a lecturer who is all theory and doesn't speak from experience. Another student criticizes those disciples who frequently quote their master but don't offer any personal experiences to give credence to the revered theories. Edgar Cayce had a practical focus. Keep only what you can use and works for you, he advised, and forget the rest. I first encountered the tension between theory and experience when at Princeton University I created a course on the psychology of Carl Jung. We began with his autobiography so that students learned how Jung's theory grew out of his personal experiences. At the same time, the students kept dream journals to see if they could find the shadow appearing in their dreams as Dr. Jung had found in his. They certainly could and it was great fun. At the end of the course we took a field trip to New York City to meet with the head of training at the C. G. Jung Institute. The man was mildly curious about our course yet somewhat condescending attitude toward our efforts. He doubted that we could we possibly learn much about the psyche from reading books. The only way to learn about archetypal psychology, he theorized, was in analysis--on the couch--where you could have a direct confrontation with the unconscious. The students appreciated the theory but were disappointed in this man's response to their experience. He ignored their active involvement in dreamwork because it wasn't done on a couch. The students were truer to the spirit of Jung's life than was the person now entrusted to train his followers. One person's original experience becomes the theory blinding the followers. More than twenty years later things Jungian have gained even more widespread familiarity. Jungian work has touched almost every area of life and scholarship, going far beyond the original headwaters of the therapy couch. This growth has spawned the publication of a tremendous number of books elaborating Jungian theory. All that theory becomes irresistably tempting as a substitute for experience. Students of the Cayce readings kncw well how much easier it is to quote Cayce than it is to turn within and come up with their own insight on a subject--something Cayce himself did at least once a day. He would have certainly applauded my students' efforts at keeping a dream journal, believing that, as his son Hugh Lynn put it, the "best book on dreams is the one you write yourself." Would the best book on Jungian psychology be your own autobiography? Maybe so. The real "opus" of ancient alchemical texts, according to Jung, is your own life transformed, not any books you might read about personal transformation. Do books on Jungian theory, therefore, contradict the spirit of Jung's psychology? Inner City Books is a respected publishing house devoted exclusively to Jungian books. One of the most famous titles (80,000 copies sold) is Addiction to Perfection, by Marion Woodman. It's about how the inner feminine in women is often unborn, remaining hidden behind a controlling masculine consciousness. I've loaned my copy to several women clients and they've invariably returned it in a state of shock from having seen themselves mirrored in a new light, their self-image irrevocably changed. Another book with such impact is The Creation of Consciousness by Edward Edinger. I use it as a text in my Atlantic University course on the Inner Life. Students have intense reactions to the ideas, images and dreams the book contains about God, and the relationship of our own individual consciousness to God's evolution. The book, like no other piece of writing I've ever encountered, provokes the students to re-examine their deeply held assumptions about God. By forcing them to confront their own personal responsibility to God, the book changes the way they experience themselves. Clearly, Inner City publishes books that are themselves experiences to read. How is that possible? To find out, I called up the publisher of Inner City Books, Daryl Sharp. He runs the business out of his home in Toronto, Ontario. Before becoming a Jungian analyst he was an editor. Publishing is a natural way for him to express the excitement he feels from helping people with their lives. I asked him for his secret to publishing books with such impact. For one thing, he considers only books written by Jungian analysts, people who have extensive personal experience interacting with the archetypal psyche. Secondly, he publishes only books that have impact on him, ones that help him understand himself better. The manuscript must inspire enough energy in him to help him engage in the hundreds of hours of work to publish the book. When I asked him, "If experience is primary, what is the value of books?" he answered: "Experience is only the starting point. What really matters is what you make of it. I think the value of any psychological writing lies in the ability of the author--and the theoretical model used--to illuminate and explain the experience of the reader." Giving meaning to experience seems to be the key role of the truly significant book. But meaning doesn't just come from expounding theory. Meaning may itself be a gift from deeper sources. Asked about the origin of the name, "Inner City," Sharp said that the city is a common symbol, in dreams and myths, for the psyche. The psyche itself has a lot of experience under its belt. One of the secrets to the impact of Inner City Books, I believe, is that these books allow the psyche to share its experience directly. The authors don't merely recount case histories but share many dreams, fantasies and myths that illuminate a deeply spiritual source of meaning to the reader. Through such powerful imagery the psyche communicates its experiences. Words written from this level of experience obviously create books worth reading.
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Surfing the Book Columns? Buy Addiction to Perfection now! Buy The Creation of Consciousness now!
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This page was last updated 03/19/02 |