OUT OF MY MIND

No Touching Please! On Social Distancing

Mindfulness in Difficult Times

It has been quite some time since I wrote a post, but given what is going on in the world at the moment, it seems like a good time for a comeback. So, Hello dear readers near and far, this is perhaps the first time that many of us will be homebound: doing our work, minding children, caring for partners and elders. In different parts of the world, the response to Covid-19 is starting to be the same: uncertainty, fear, panic buying, and a need to know as much as we can about what this virus is like, what we can and must do about it, how to help ourselves, our families and our communities. All of us are experiencing the impact of this pandemic. We are, all of us, in the proverbial same boat – afloat an uncertain ocean. And furthermore we are, each of us, captain’s of our own ship – we are in charge of taking responsibility. Covid-19 has united us in the way that major calamities and catastrophes do – reminding us that we are one human race, with the same basic needs and wants , and that it is only by coming together, mindfully, that we can survive.

I want to share some thoughts from the book: Consolations – The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words by poet David Whyte. This particular essay looks at the crisis all of us face when our internal worlds collide with the outside world.

Crisis is unavoidable . Every human life seems to be drawn, eventually, as if by some unspoken parallel, some tidal flow or underground magnetic field, toward the raw, dynamic essentials of its existence, as if everything up to that point had been a preparation for a meeting, for a confrontation in an elemental form with our essential flaw, and with what an individual could until then, only receive stepped down, interpreted or diluted.

This experience of absolute contact with an essential hidden dynamic, now understood to be essential to our lives, often ignored but now making itself felt, where the touchable rawness of life becomes part of the fabric of the everyday, and a robust luminous vulnerability, becomes shot through with the necessary, imminent and inevitable prospect of loss, has been described for centuries as the dark night of the soul: La note oscura del alma. But perhaps this dark night could be more accurately described as the meeting of two immense storm fronts, the squally vulnerable edge between what overwhelms human beings from the inside and what overpowers them from the outside.

The waveform that overwhelms a maturing human being from the inside is the inescapable nature of their own flaws and weaknesses, their self deceptions and their attempts to create false names and stories to place themselves in the world; the felt need to control the narrative of the story around them with no regard to outside revelation. The immense wave on the outside is the invitation to give that self up, to be borne off by the wave and renamed, revealed and re-ordered by the powerful flow.

Walking the pilgrim edge between the two, holding them together, is the hardest place to stay, to breathe of both and make a world of both and to be active in their exchange: aware of our need to be needed, our wish to be seen, our constant need for help and succor, but inhabiting a world of luminosity and intensity, subject to the wind and the weather, surrounded by the music of existence, able to be found by the living world and with a wild self-forgetful ability to respond to its call when needed; a rehearsal in fact for the act of dying, a place where inside and outside can reverse and flow with no fixed form.

*

Be well. Be mindful. And pay attention to the details they have always mattered.

The Tale  by Jennifer Fox

 

The Tale – Film by Jennifer Fox

In The Tale, Jennifer Fox captures all of the above and goes further. Here we have her personal story: a story she wrote about when she was 13 years old for her English class essay, and then dissociated and rewrote in her memory. What was in effect a betrayal of both the woman she loved as a glamorous version of a mother, Mrs. G, and her running coach Bill, who sexually abuses her, turns into a story of Bill as an older boyfriend, whom she does not talk about in order not to freak people out. Memory provides a translation of lived experience that allows Jennifer to move on, not as anyone’s victim but as the hero of her own story.And a hero she is.

It is Jenny that tells both Mrs. G and Bill she will no longer continue a relationship with either of them, after finding out that they have been planning a foursome involving her and another young woman.

It is Jenny who writes her story as an essay and turns it in to her English teacher.

It is Jennifer who dialogues with her young self (Jenny) in order to find out the truth and reconnect with her memories and her experience.

It is Jennifer who confronts Bill when she is an adult.

And it is Jennifer Fox who brings us this moving and difficult tale of survival, disturbingly shot with sexual scenes (we are advised that all sexual scenes were filmed using an adult stand in). Incredibly difficult to watch and upsetting in its sexual and emotional exploits – it is Jennifer Fox’s courage to film it in this way which finally communicates the truth about sexual abuse in all of its painful, unnerving, ominous and alarming detail.

One of the hallmarks of sexual abuse is that speaking of it disturbs everyone and that many not only do not want to hear about it, and want it not to be true, even when confronted with evidence of its truth, people also often “forget” about it. It is as if a cultural dissociation descends over many, working its powerful mix of narcotic anesthesia over the horror and reality of sexual abuse.

Fox begins her Tale by telling us that it is “true as far as I know”, and so, we are immediately brought into the land of memory, that personal area of our brain that records everything that happens to us- sometimes revealing it to us with clarity, other times through a haze, sometimes hiding it from our conscious knowing, sometimes ushering in unexpected flashbacks brought on by a song, a smell, a summer day. Memory is the repository of all of our experience and yet, it changes with the coloratura of emotions, feelings, sensations, and time. Memory is also subject to dissociative waves that isolate knowledge because of its traumatic impact on the psyche. Memory is individual, and not based solely on language but on our experience of events and of the impact of those events on our psyche. In this sense, memory shapes our nervous system and the neurons in our brain, thus the power of physical memories – the body never forgets, it remembers everything. It is the mind that alters experience and blurs memory in an effort to survive.

“Funny how you live with people in your mind” a young Jennifer tells us. Indeed, what we do with people and things is turn them into our personal, internal individuals imbued with the attributes we want or need them to have. Thus, Mrs. G, Jenny’s British horseback riding teacher, appears to her beautiful and dazzling, disciplined to a fault and a person to emulate, to be like. For Jenny, Mrs. G becomes the model for femaleness and provides the focused attention her own overburdened mother is unable to give. Jenny falls in love with Mrs. G the way a young girl falls in love with an ideal self. She wants to please Mrs. G by becoming a version of her, a version that Mrs. G can love and approve of. And it is Mrs. G that introduces Jenny to Bill, the running coach who is also Mrs. G’s lover. Together, Mrs. G and Bill begin to groom Jenny for their sexual exploits, under the cover of being the only ones who understand and love her, “we will form our own family” they tell her. Young Jennifer might think it is “funny” how she lived with this duo in her mind, but in telling us her story we understand immediately that it is Mrs. G and Bill that purposefully shape how Jenny lives with them in her mind. The adult Ms. Fox depicts these grooming behaviors with precision, young Jenny is only aware of her idealization of Mrs. G and Bill retrospectively, as is always the case.

Pedophiles and their child victims are involved in what psychoanalyst Sandor Ferenczi termed a “confusion of tongues”: where the adult seeks sex and the child seeks affection. These two remain intertwined for the survivor of abuse, who must then do difficult psychic work in order to untangle sex as the means of gaining affection. Jenny the child was seeking attention, affection and to be special to Mrs. G. Since Mrs. G loved Bill, Jenny began to trust and depend on him too. The attention and specialness was the key, and Jenny thrived on it. Yet, sex is a different story. And Jennifer (the child and the adult) know this. The physicality of sex involves bodies that are tangled up in a transgressive act, no matter how consensual and pleasurable it is for the adults involved. The child seeks affection: cuddling, hugging, playing, and most importantly, a safe space to experiment with coming of age and adult attention. Sex, and the physical demands it entails push through a boundary that moves affection and even love, into something else, something not entirely known or safe, a mixture of aggression, lust, passion and even surprise. Children cannot manage the ‘something’ that sex entails, either physically or emotionally, because they are unprepared for it. It constitutes an assault on their body as well as their psyche. There is a whole lot of flirtation, play, dating and experimentation with peers that must come beforehand. Thus, young Jenny’s body revolts, it makes her physically sick and helps her step away from Mrs. G and Bill forever. “My body told me what my mind refused to accept,” she tells us, as she saves herself.

In The Tale we live through Jennifer’s experience: as a child and as an adult. We see her struggle with her partner. We hear of her promiscuity. She tells us of her shame at her excitement, physical and emotional. What is it like to get turned on when you do not want to? Well, it divides the psyche from the body. So that physical experience remains dissociated from what it feels like emotionally. The mind then has to work hard to narrate a different  “tale”: “he loved me” Jennifer tells herself, “so did Mrs. G”, “she was probably abused herself”. All of this so she can survive on her own.

“I failed you” Jennifer’s mother tells her adult daughter while she is in search of her memories. “I failed to do the one thing that a parent should do: protect you.” None of us want to KNOW about sexual abuse. Jennifer Fox has given us The Taleso that none of us can ever doubt its continued existence. She is in fact not a victim, she is a survivor, and she is also a Hero, and her film a courageous narrative.

 

* Tune in and watch THE TALE on HBO May 26th and host your own discussion circle with free materials by signing up here: bit.ly/TheTaleDiscussionCircle. The film will also be available on HBO GO and NOW and other HBO channels following the premiere. Follow the conversation online by using #TheTale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A meditation on peace

Unknown

Many of you who follow my blog know that I believe that although words can be powerful and magical, they often cannot capture the complexity of our experience. Today, on September 11, 2015 I urge you to listen to this music by the contemporary composer Karl Jenkins, entitled: The Armed Man, A Mass for Peace – Benedictus, and spend a few minutes with its message. It “speaks” to so much….

 

 

 

 

 

On taking time off – and packing light

vacation by m.maruccia

This is vacation time, the summer months calling forth warm breezes and the desire to step back, to take it easy, to take time off. For many in my profession of psychoanalysis, August is the month to leave our work and our patients and to take time to rest and play. So this post is about vacations and the fact that all of us need them, and further, that we could all use to pack light and leave some of our baggage behind.

The etymology of the word vacation comes from the latin vacare– meaning to be unoccupied or to vacate.  Over time, vacations became a time for physical, mental and spiritual self improvement. The virtue of leisure as a time to reconstitute and replenish was slowly introduced into our culture via medicine and religion. The former establishing the need for rest from work and the latter providing opportunities to take time off that were aimed at spiritual well being without the use of substances and other potential “detractors”. The notion that holidays help us become better versions of ourselves because of their restorative capabilities is now a well established fact, and one that most of us include in our lives.

All of us need time off.

Vacations give us a chance to forget our worries, albeit for a specific period of time. They offer us the opportunity to turn our minds away from the busyness of every day life and restore our mental and physical energy. In so doing, we are often able to come back to work and the demands in our lives, with a renewed sense of possibility and the ability to think outside the box- approaching issues with fresh eyes and minds. Think of holidays as necessary pauses to the ongoing rhythm we have established in our lives, and as opportunities to reset and reconsider who we are and what we are doing and want to do. This may require thinking about what we bring with us and what we pack in our suitcases. Do we overstuff even when we go on vacation? Or leave important things behind? What is in those suitcases anyway? What can you let go of? What do you take with you?

Pack light say I.

Yes, try to leave some of the baggage that you usually carry  behind -you know, the one that makes your shoulders hurt because of its weight- and leave room for new experiences to surprise you. Leaving space for rest and play creates more space for work to happen in. I once had a patient tell me that the more she slowed down in her life the more time she seemed to have to do everything she needed to do. She was right. And so it is with holidays. Taking time off and packing light gives us the opportunity to encounter parts of ourselves that we might not pay attention to in our daily life, parts that are essential to our sense of well being. When we have space we can reconsider what we fill it with.

Whether your vacation is a staycation or your holiday takes you to an exotic place, consider the value of interrupting your life with spaces that make room to pause, breathe and just be. Vacating from the known, the overcrowded, the box that we create for ourselves and the stuff we carry along with us can lead to much needed areas of personal expansion. Holidays and vacations turn out to be real lifesavers.

 

 

ON GUILT- and getting down with our bad selves.

maruccia/conzoGuilt is one of those emotions that has been shortchanged in psychology, except to be understood as a sign that an individual has internalized societal and cultural norms and developed a sense of empathy for others. Freud saw guilt as one of the hallmarks of civilized humanity, an important emotion which signaled an internal conflict between our ego (our observing self) and our superego (our conscience). Often such conflict came about due to a clash between our wishes and desires and societal norms and rules. When seen in these terms, guilt and our ability to feel it, reflects an internalization of cultural and societal attitudes and the awareness that we live in community and must moderate our personal gratification for the good of all. Melanie Klein, a British psychoanalyst and Freud’s contemporary, viewed guilt as central to emotional development and to the infants’ realization of feelings of love and hate for its parents, which when internalized, led to a desire for reparation and the ability to see the other (mom and dad) as  separate people. As such, guilt is  a sign of emotional maturity and a feeling that signals awareness that one’s actions have an impact on others. Guilt is also associated with moral development, and has long been the emotion that many religions capitalize on. Yet the experience of guilt has many potential dynamic meanings. This post is about our experience of guilt, and the many things that it is about.

Many of my patients talk about their guilt regarding one thing or another – a lie, an affair, a meanness, an aggressive or hostile act- and while they all report feeling badly, even terrible about it, many of them do not really want to discuss it or have me position their guilt response within the context of their particular situation or history. My patients seem to feel that in attempting to do so, I am trying to rationalize their guilt away, or somehow relieve them of responsibility for their actions. Not so say I.

Responsibility is often associated with guilt. In fact it is inherent in the experience of guilt. When one takes responsibility for one’s actions, particularly if those actions have impacted negatively on another, one experiences guilt: The kind of feeling that starts in the pit of your stomach and gnaws away at you. Then perhaps an internal voice begins to say “that was not right” or “that was wrong” or “why did I do that?” Guilt has an audible voice that reverberates and is heard only by the guilty party. That voice is very likely an internalized chorus of parental and other authority voices, along with ours and the particular way that  we manage and talk to ourselves. While this is not a pleasant sensation, most of us can deal with it, particularly if it leads us to do something that allows us to acknowledge our actions and do something to right them. In fact, guilt often involves a desire to make amends and undo the offense.

The situation is quite different when the possibility for reparation does not exist. Then guilt becomes persecutory, haunting the person at every turn. This is because without the possibility of doing something that allows us to amend or atone for  the situation that was caused by our behavior we have to manage our feeling about it on our own, and come to terms with parts of ourselves that are not necessarily likeable but are nonetheless ours. When reparation is not possible we must deal with the part of ourselves that acts out of its own need, the self that wants, as well as the part of ourselves that can destroy another. Where reparation is not possible we are faced with our own destructive potential and must deal with it on our  own. This can be very difficult and often, very painful, particularly if it activates early, internalized interactions that remain laden with shame (which is often the case). At such times guilt partners up with shame in a deadly combination.

While guilt mobilizes us toward a reparative action, when that possibility is closed to us we are face to face with those behaviors or parts of ourselves that we most loathe, self states that have been banished over and over precisely because they could not be acknowledged and processed in our early relationships with our parents, leaving a residue of shame which is activated in other relationships. Because shame is implicitly a relational experience, it brings about a self-in-the eyes-of-the-other awareness, which becomes the focus for scorn and self-hate. A powerful one-two punch erupts from the shame/guilt combo, which calls forth experiences of deep shame around feelings of being bad/terrible/unlovable/despicable, etc., and makes it impossible to connect to other parts of the self which could help negotiate those feelings. In those moments of self-in-the-eyes-of-the-other awareness there is only badness and self-loathing, nothing positive can come of these feelings. In fact, they shut us down and isolate us from others.

So how do we get down with our bad selves?

How indeed.

Those of you that are readers of my post already know the answer. We need an other. Or many others. We need the potential emotional regulation that relationships to others offer us to help mediate the “badness” and remind us that we are much more than that.

Much more.

ON RECOGNITION – And the feeling of being known.

photo by T. coburnWhat does it mean to be known by another? To be recognized for who one is, warts and all?  The good with the bad and everything in between? I think we might be talking about the precondition for love, and about what it means to love another person, about the way we negotiate and make meaning with another, possibly forging a connection that can be deeply stabilizing to our sense of self.

Recognition is one of those ideas that captures something simple about what all of us need, yet much more difficult to find and experience. I am referring to a feeling that is universally sought by all, that feeling that another has seen you, really seen you, and understood the most basic parts of who you are. That person gets you, and you are left with a feeling of being known, a feeling so powerful that it translates into a sense that all is right with the world, and further, that all will be all right. Yes –recognition is what its all about, and we are all in search of it, sometimes, without knowing that we are. It may even trump love or be the actual definition and/or pre-condition for true love.

Really?

Uh huh. I think so.

In psychoanalysis, the notion of recognition came about during the feminist movement of the 1960’s and was coined as a term and elaborated by the psychoanalyst Jessica Benjamin. Recognition involves a particular kind of identification with the other; I say a particular kind, because it is an identification that is based on one’s ability to identify with another while retaining our individuality and subjectivity and allowing them theirs. And this is not an easy thing to do when one is in a relationship of any kind. Most of us relate to others based on our particular needs and desires- the other(s) appeals to us because we think alike, like the same things, agree on important issues, look the way we like to look, etc. We identify with others narcissistically and this then becomes the basis for our relationship to them. But with recognition, something quite different is going on, something that many are unable to arrive at or sustain because it involves using their aggression to destroy the very thing that is wanted.  This is an idea that the great British psychoanalyst and pediatrician Donald Winnicott articulated as a necessary process in our psychological development. He spoke about our ability to destroy the other in fantasy, ruthlessly and based on our own needs, wants and aggression, as a necessary developmental skill that led us to the ability to form intimate relationships in mature life.   If the other actually survives our destruction of them- meaning that they continue to be who they have always been with us- it leads us to understand and recognize that the other is not subject to our (mental) control, but rather, a person in their own right. Benjamin takes up this idea and articulates it further: our destruction of the other establishes their subjectivity and helps to manifest ours. In this way destruction leads to a deeper connection because the other now becomes known as a subject with his or her own desires and autonomy, rather than our object. Thus recognition of the other brings us closer to knowing them for who they truly are, allowing us the possibility of being who we are on the way to intimacy.

Benjamin –who studied philosophy prior to training as a psychoanalyst- offers a solution to Hegel’s paradox by reformulating the relationship between destruction and survival,wherein destruction is a necessary part of becoming an autonomous being and leads to being seen and recognized as such. In the struggle for recognition all of us must take the risk of obliterating the other, of  being alone with our destructiveness, and of denying that the other is a subject with all our might, so that we can experience the realness of the others’ subjectivity and difference as well as our own. There is no hope for recognition without such destruction and survival. This dyadic tension between destruction and survival is at the heart of being known by another, and I would say, is at the heart of “true” love.

There is something about the feeling of being known that changes everything experientially. This is because recognition has a regulating effect: the fact that we feel understood and seen by another helps us to feel secure, safe, and emotionally balanced. All is well with us and all is well with the world. Recognition goes beyond verbal speech and actions and begins with early (think mother infant), non-verbal experiences in which something is shared with another person – some understanding of a feeling, a sense, a movement. Such implicit knowing that the mind of another is in sync with ours while remaining other constitutes the very magic of the connection that intersubectivity relies on. It is also the reason that we continue to search for it in our lives, and immediately respond and connect with it when we experience it with another.

So is it the basis for true love?

To the degree that recognition involves our ability to deal with our aggression and destructiveness in a way that allows the other, outside and  different to come into being as a subject instead of a preconceived other that we might require, perhaps it is the foundation for true love, in that it demands that we ongoingly negotiate differences and meaning in what Benjamin calls a space of “thirdness”, which necessarily involves mutual recognition. Where this ability is lacking, the space for negotiation  of  otherness collapses, along with the ability to see the other for who she or he is, destroying the possibility for intimate contact. Thus, many relationships are based on an idea of the other and of love, rather than the grounding that can come from the mutual recognition of difference and otherness.
All of us have a need to be recognized and have the capacity to recognize others, uneven as it may be. Such inconsistencies in our ability to recognize others, and the exploration of what keeps us from being able to do so, can be said to be one of the areas that psychoanalytic psychotherapy considers.

 

ON RESOLUTIONS – and the will to change.

v.ceccoli This is that time of year when everyone thinks about change and about the things in one’s life that need changing. The end of the year provides a time to take inventory of our lives, take stock of what we have done and what we have not. Resolutions abound, ranging from – losing weight, starting an exercise program, saving money, buying a house, reading more, going to church, quitting smoking, being kinder- you name it. Resolutions usually involve change, and change is usually associated with will power and the ability to do something differently.

As a noun, resolution has a number of meanings, and all of them are relevant to the process of change. Resolution as an intention involves resolve, the act of deciding to do something and doing it, as well as an aim, a plan and a commitment that is set forth with purpose and determination. Resolution as a motion involves a proposal or proposition that is then resolved through acceptance and implementation. Resolution as a behavioral attribute such as determination (resoluteness) has to do with firmness of purpose, steadfastness, staunchness, persistence, tenacity, and dedication. And finally, there is resolution as a solution, as an answer, an end, a settlement or a conclusion. Whew! No wonder so many struggle with resolutions at this time of year, they consist of complex interactions between a wish or goal (intention), the ability to make a decision and plan (motion), a stick-to-it-ness (behavior) and a solution (completion). To this complex mix I would add fantasy, and the particular coloration that it lends to what we believe will happen once we instituted our resolution.

And here is where the rub is.

Enveloped in our resolutions lie many of our wishes and fantasies, in the shape of our best selves. So if we read more, or exercise more, or (fill in your own blank here), we will become some much better version of who we are, perhaps an idealized version of who we are, and as such we will finally have what we want (again fill in your own blank here)- a better life, partnership, etc. You can see why resolutions are complicated things and also, why people often fail at them. While willpower is involved, it only gets one so far, and thereafter, it is our knowledge of our internal workings that determines our approach to change. Much of this has to do with self-acceptance, and our ability to get to know those parts of us that we least like and spend much of our time avoiding. After all, those are the ones that require changing right? The ones that resolutions try to reshape or altogether CHANGE so that our better self can live, if not happily ever after, then at least, less encumbered and content.

On this new years eve, full of promise and hope for what can be changed in our lives, I wish all of my readers the resolve to be all of themselves and to live as fully as possible.

Thank you for reading on….

About a Woman: Marilyn Monroe

Lately I have been thinking about women, and the many incarnations we can embody and be in the articulation of our femininity and our way of being the woman we want to be. Such thoughts led me to consider Marilyn Monroe- yes, the Marilyn Monroe, the woman that illuminated that “dark continent called woman” in Hollywood neon. Monroe seems to inhabit the collective unconscious of both men and women: As the “star” everyone knew, some sexualized and objectified, others copied, and still others shunned. Decades after her suicide, her image continues to be imitated and remains a universal symbol of femininity.

Who am I?  What kind of woman? Asked Monroe. This is a question that most women have asked. Along the way, it is other women that have helped answer it, starting with our mothers. Marilyn Monroe had no such help.With a mentally ill mother who could not care for her, and an unknown father, she had to negotiate growing up mostly on her own. She found a way out of poverty and foster homes through her beauty and her body, sex and seduction being the primary means of exchange in a world dominated by men. She used her looks to give men what they wanted in the hopes that they would then give her what she needed– love, respect, safety. Like many women of her generation, she looked to men for recognition, validation and security.

Marilyn Monroe personifies many conflict-ridden parts for women, particularly women of her generation. She was too frail, too funny, too sexual, too much of everything, and it was reflected on the big screen. Marilyn was too much of a reminder of just how much of female sexuality and identity was reliant on men and on male sexuality. Her image ensnared femininity and made it a persecutory ideal for many women. Illusion often leads to idealization, and for women, the image of the ideal woman, or the ideal of femininity is something that can continue to haunt them throughout life. Think of the way Monroe influenced the look and sensibility of an entire generation of women who nonetheless struggled with what she represented. Trapped in a stereotype of woman, Marilyn was objectified, depersonalized and ridiculed. Few women stood up for her, it was too personally threatening. Monroe embodied basic female fears having to do with envy, jealousy and competition; she was a beautiful, sexy rival who was desired by all men because she played to their fantasies, in giving herself totally and asking to be loved she reminded women of their own vulnerability in the socio-symbolic contract.

Monroe was more comfortable with men because they treated her like a woman, while women treated her like the enemy. She looked to a he for definition, and found it lacking and imprisoning. Being treated like a woman does not a woman make, instead it makes a man’s idea of a woman, which can then imprison her. While masculine identifications may serve to reinforce many parts of female identity, validation happens in a totally different way with other women precisely because we are different than men, and concretely because we are built differently. No matter how important the men in our lives are, they cannot replace the role of other women in our lives. It is a biological impossibility. Women need other women to work out who they are and want to be, and in particular, to work out how they process aggression, envy and eroticism. When these aspects of the self are repudiated, they continue to manifest in women’s’ lives through bodily experiences- from not being satisfied with their appearance to not being able to enjoy and own sexuality, and everything in between. In search of validation, women might turn to the male gaze as objects of desire, like Marilyn did. Or they might hold other women up as a mirror that reflects an “ideal” so they become the object of envy, jealousy and competitiveness-precisely what happened to Monroe. What circulated between Marilyn and other women was an unresolved image of woman. An image that many women struggle with. Who am I? What kind of woman?

Marilyn’s public image reflected a masculine desire for an innocent yet sexy woman who did not bring any complexity along with her sexuality. “In fact,” Monroe is quoted as saying toward the end of her career, “my popularity seems almost entirely a masculine phenomenon.” Despite the fact that she played to it, Monroe disliked Hollywood’s promotion of her as a sex symbol, and she was explicit about the sexual exploitation that accompanied her career, as well as the history of sexual abuse that was part of her childhood. She spoke up and made it possible for many women to begin to speak about similar abuses. Yet, like many of her female peers, Marilyn sought to live out her idea of the woman she wanted to be through the men she chose as husbands. First there was the merchant marine James Dougherty, who saved her from yet another foster home when she was only 16. Then came Joe DiMaggio, the homespun jock who softened her image with the promise of the American dream, and finally there was Arthur Miller, the intellectual who provided proof that she was in fact, more than a sex symbol. With Miller, Marilyn attempted to have a child, but becoming a mother was not to be for her. Monroe continued to struggle with her image and the woman that she was and wanted to be throughout her short life. Along the way she was betrayed many times, by the men in her life, by the media and the press, by her psychoanalysts, and, sadly to say, by women who did not want to see themselves in her and disowned her. I like to think that she would have fared better in the post-feminism era.

Marilyn’s story is still relevant today because women continue to struggle with the same issues despite the fact that there are more possibilities to who and what we can be, when and if one can use the space and possibility to become. In search of validation and recognition, women often replicate an either/or situation for themselves that begins in the relationship with their mothers and is later re-enforced by culture. Take the woman-child, or the madonna-whore extremes, they leave little room for the specificities of what a woman might want to be. Marilyn exemplified the struggle to live between the two. Despite the fact that she was repeatedly trapped into the dumb, sexy blonde role, she continued to try and negotiate different film and theater characters for herself, developed her skills as a comedian, insisted on being taken seriously both for her acting and her thoughts, and toward the end of her life, was managing her own small film company. When she was not on a movie set, she would take literature and history classes at UCLA. Monroe loved literature, and her library contained over 400 books, including Joyce, Freud, Milton, Dostoyevsky, Hemingway and Kerouc. Because she took her craft seriously, Monroe began taking acting classes in New York from Lee Strasberg, with the hopes of changing her image and gaining some respect in the theater world. She even  undertook psychoanalytic treatment on 3 different occasions in attempt to tackle her internal demons and understand their impact. In my reading of her life, I see a woman trying to create a life by her own rules rather than those being imposed on her, and trying to understand the impact of her emotional history, yet continuing to get caught up in the longing and idealization of her decade and the image of woman she helped to create. It was the stress of articulating herself as both sexy and intelligent, playful and smart, vulnerable and strong, needy and seductive, child and woman, Norma Jean and Marilyn Monroe – some of the very qualities and alternatives that first and second wave feminism made possible for all women – that did her in.

Marilyn Monroe’s trajectory as a woman mirrors the construction of WOMAN, and its many embodied, psychological and socio-cultural meanings. As women we are always negotiating between daughter and self, child and woman, as we articulate our subjectivity. Despite the glamour and furor that surrounded her, Marilyn Monroe was a woman in search of herself, a woman in process.

On Building a Life – Alongside.

It is thirteen years after.

Almost to the day.

I do not know when you will be reading this post, but I am writing it on the eve of.

The eve of the event that changed everything for many of us.

Strange to look out my window and see the beams of light knowing what they represent, on the eve of.

September 11 is almost here and I feel compelled to write, as I do on the eve of every September 11, since I began my blog.

It is my own, personal meditation.

And on this evening, I share it with you.

As I look out on the city lights, the shiny new Freedom Tower, and the outstretched beams of white light reaching toward the inky blue sky, I am struck by our ability to rebuild and go on while remaining connected to our grief and the memory of that day. Of course, as a psychoanalyst, this is something I know and believe in – the resilience of the human spirit and our ability to survive, and to continue to be, to continue to live our life. Yet, I am always moved when I experience it.

The events of September 11th 2001 changed everything for me, and for many among us. They made survivors of a generation of New Yorkers and Americans, (and also of many in other parts of the world) who had grown up believing that the world was safe, or at least, sort of safe. On that day, our notion of safety, predictability and comfort was forever changed. Many things changed on that day.

This post is about life post trauma, and the possibility of living fully while grieving what will never again be.

Is that even possible? To continue to live when everything in you has exploded, changed, re -morphed into an attempt to understand, to put pieces back together, to …what?

Continue with life?

Yes.

It is possible to re-build a life alongside ones’ pain.

It is.

Slowly at first

One foot in front of the other

And then a rest

Perhaps a sit down

Or even a lie down…

Then, later

and maybe only sometimes,

With words and with people

With loved ones and

With loved things

with objects that help us remember

and also forget

With work

that helps us remember a part of ourselves

and also forget

With music

and books

and movies

With nature

and walks

and dance

and art

and tears

With love

and friendship

With community

and sharing

and people

and people

and people

We are always in need of people

and relationships

and many,

many ways of putting language and words to what we feel and what we experience.

This is how

we build a life – alongside.

Sometimes I am able to  help others begin to do this.  My patients, my friends, my family. Sometimes they are able to help me. At such times I feel honored and blessed, renewed in what I have always believed and known – that we can rebuild our lives alongside.

For me, September 11th has become a reminder of the importance of knowing that it is possible to build a life alongside.

As is often the case, I think that poets capture much of our lived experience best, as artists usually do because of their ability to go beyond words and disrupt meaning, stretching words to include what one has lived. Here is an excerpt from Mark Doty’s Heaven’s Coast: A Memoir, which captures the possibility of living alongside.

“Sorrow feels right, for now. Sorrow seems large and inhabitable, an interior season whose vaulted sky’s a suitable match for the gray and white tumult arched over these headlands. A sorrow is not to be gotten over or moved through in quite the way that sadness is, yet sorrow is also not as frozen and monochromatic as mourning. Sadness exists inside my sorrow, but it’s not as large as sorrow’s realm. This sorrow is capacious; there’s room inside it for the everyday, for going about the workaday stuff of life. And for loveliness, for whatever we’re to be given by the daily walk.” 

I don’t know anything different about death than I ever have, but I feel differently. I inhabit this difference in feeling- or does it live in me?- at the same time as I’m sorrowing. The possibility of consolation, of joy even, does not dispel the sorrow. Sorrow is the cathedral, the immense architecture; in its interior there’s room for almost everything; for desire, for flashes of happiness, for making plans for the future…

Alongside.