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Individuation And The Spiritual Aspects Of Healing Trauma

I am reading Murray Stein's wonderful book, Minding the Self: Jungian Meditations on Contemporary Spirituality, after spending the weekend assisting a sensorimotor psychotherapy training.

 

On first glance, spirituality and neurobiologically-informed psychotherapy might seem to have little in common. However, one of the topics in the sensorimotor psychotherapy training was the model of structural dissociation — how the psyche organizes around defense responses and attachment needs following trauma, especially when traumatization has been chronic.

 

I believe the model of structural dissociation resonates with distinctions between good and evil that CG Jung saw as a central challenge to individuation, the lifelong process of actualizing all aspects of self.

 

Structural dissociation describes how reminders of past traumatic conditions trigger habitual reactions and beliefs, which become organized around animal defense responses such as fight or flight, along with the need for safe attachments. Of course, we all act differently when we feel threatened from how we act when we feel safe to love. Yet for those who struggle with the aftereffects of trauma, often there are conflicts among "parts," less control over them, and more reactivity.

 

For the person experiencing deep rifts within, it is easy to perceive some parts as "evil," and needing to be pushed away or destroyed, and other parts as "good," and needing to be protected. Nevertheless, all are parts of the self that at one point contributed to survival, even if they have outgrown their usefulness or have become destructive and a threat.

 

Similarly, Stein shows that parts of the self, especially those perceived as "warring," are the focus of both Jungian individuation and a spiritually focused life — at least in modern religions such as Christianity. And like structural dissociation, the goal of individuation (and Christian incarnation) is to become aware of, and reconcile, the splits within:

 

“Jung recasts the notion of incarnation in a psychological mode as a developmental process in which the unconscious becomes assimilated into consciousness over the period of an individual’s lifetime. He calls this process individuation. For modern men and women, incarnation means entering actively and consciously into the individuation process, which requires enduring the battle of the opposites as they come into play and submitting to the extreme suffering of this conflict as Jesus Christ suffered the cross, a symbol of hanging between the opposites. This suffering for the sake of individuation is for Jung the genuine imitatio Christi, which no longer means becoming Christ-like in the traditional sense of trying to become perfect as Christ was perfect or following his example. Rather, it means enduring the agony of the inner warring opposites until a unifying symbol is born in the individual soul. In other words, each person is required to incarnate the full complexity of the psyche, conscious and unconscious. This is what it means to ‘mind the self’."

 

For me, combining spirituality with scientific models is the most humanistic way to approach healing from trauma. Suffering is part of all lives, and our greatest suffering happens when we have been victimized by others. Often this is the first introduction to the distinction between good and evil.

 

On the one hand, we need methods like psychotherapy (or really, the support of anyone compassionate and knowledgeable about healing the psyche) to find the way back to wholeness, and this is a very practical part of the process of healing. On the other hand, the transformation that happens in the course of integration/individuation often defies words — even as it creates a sense of being deeply connected to humankind, nature, or for some, what Jung identifies as the God-image, which Stein describes as follows:

 

"A God-image is a numinous symbol derived from the archetypal level of the psyche, which captures and conveys an intuition or feeling of awe-inspiring, absolute, cosmic, eternal Being. Such symbols can lead us directly to an experience of the archetypal world. As symbols, these images communicate and mediate a dimension of Being that lies beyond the ego’s limitations, beyond the confines of humanly-perceivable boundaries of time and space."

 

Especially when trauma has been severe or chronic enough to cause deep rifts in the psyche, the survivor must go on a quest of sorts — the so-called journey of the wounded healer — to become whole again. This journey is archetypal. No matter how good our theories and interventions become, or how much we learn about the biological and social underpinnings of trauma, 'healing' involves a sense of touching into something grander than oneself, which becomes the model for wholeness.

 

Perhaps it's not the flashbacks, the insomnia, the addictions, or the emotional dysregulation that draws us to heal traumatic wounds (although they would be enough!), but rather the deeper, if not archetypal urge to become fully alive.

 

References

Stein, Murray. 2014. Minding the Self: Jungian Meditations on Contemporary Spirituality. NY, NY: Routledge.

 

Hart, Onno van der, Ellert R. S. Nijenhuis, and Kathy Steele. 2006. The Haunted Self: Structural Dissociation and the Treatment of Chronic Traumatization. New York: WW Norton & Company.

 

© 2015 Laura K Kerr, PhD. All rights reserved.

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Comments (8)

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I know what you mean. All the effort has been worth it for me because of the peace I now consistently experience.

 

And welcome to ACEs Connection! It's a great community and resource.

Laura,

Isn't it great to get to a place where there are gems and joys to the healing? At least for me - when that happens - I'm so grateful. It's not all arduous and uphill feeling as it was when I was younger. Not that it's all 'been there - done that' but it doesn't have the same shame and beating me up feel as it used to.

What a great community there is here. I'm still new but it's great.

Cissy

Cissy, 

 

I so resonate with what you write so beautifully. Like you, my ability to acknowledge the absence of connection is as much a sign of how far I have come as the sense of wholeness I have gained through my healing journey. And you are so right -- we all have something that disconnects us.

 

I haven't read Muller's book, but I have heard snippets of the title — that someone had written a book about the spiritual advantages of childhood abuse. Thank you for the full title, so I can finally find it and read it!

I loved reading this. And that idea of wholeness, as available, and there for me is why I love yoga and guided imagery. While I can't say I don't lose my connection to wholeness, because I do, I also know - when I do - that the connection is lost - not that wholeness itself is gone.

For me, that has made the journey of healing radically better.

Plus, at least for me, realizing that we ALL have something we're journeying with and through. For me, trauma may be my "cross" and PTSD symptoms the things that disconnect me from spirit, source, wholeness, flow (or whatever language works) - other people have things that disconnect them. Health or money or circumstances or things I can't even imagine. So we're not all in the same boat but we're all managing waters in the same ocean. For me, this has also been a comfort and has made me feel more joined with other humans in a way I just didn't feel as a child or young adult.

Have you ever read The Spiritual Advantages of a Painful Childhood by Wayne Muller? I think it's Legacy of the Heart before the subtitle. 

I hated the title when I first discovered it but over the years I return to it with greater appreciation and understanding. 

Thanks for sharing!
cissy

Hi Laura,

     My mother was a WASP pilot during WW II, but she didn't become a "veteran" until 1977, and my father was a Seabee during WW II. My mother's father, a WW I veteran with infantry duty in France, had taught her to swim as a 3 year old, by the old Bavarian style (tossing her from a low bridge into a bay, absent a swift moving Alpine mountain stream...)-which I suspect he learned from his German parents, and before becoming a pilot, my mother had learned swimming/lifesaving by the Red Cross method, and taught it at a girls summer camp, long before I was born. I'm sure the Trans-generational or intergenerational transmission of Trauma research has some amazing dimensions. Lois Merry's 2009 book on the (Allied and Axis) Women pilots of WW II has quite good historical references.

Hi Carlene,

 

In my research on the intergenerational transmission of trauma, especially war-related traumas, I learned that it is not uncommon for 30 years or more to pass between the traumatizing event, or conditions, and feeling fully recovered. And I wonder if a need for distance — if for no other reason than to gain a sense of safety — contributes to the distinction between the first and second half of life that Rohr and Jung both identified.

This reminds me of the work of Richard Rohr, who talks about "first half of life work" and "second half of life work" and the tasks associated with each. I appreciate what you've done here to make a complex topic accessible, at least to those with an interest in and grasp on spirituality.

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