interviews
Cliff Bostock
on "Soulwork"
Cliff Bostock, MA, is a doctoral student in
depth psychology at Pacifica Graduate Institute and a practitioner
of soulwork, a post-Jungian modality of personal growth which is
based on the archetypal psychology of James Hillman. His work has
been featured in Common Boundary Magazine. He lives in Atlanta where
he also authors a weekly dining column and a psychology column. For
more information about him consult his website, Soulwork.
Tammie:
"How do you describe "Soulwork?"
Cliff:
It's a facilitated process of learning to live from a place of deep
imagination, in a fully embodied way. It is an aesthetic psychology
in which images are treated as autonomous expressions of soul. To
follow the image, to use the phrase employed by James Hillman, is to
discover the "telos," direction of the soul's path, its
destiny. This telos is also clearly illuminated in the body, which
is also a metaphorical field.
Tammie:
What led you to soulwork?
Cliff: My
destiny, basically. As a kid, I couldn't decide whether to be a
writer or a doctor. I chose to be a writer, an artist. Then, during
my recovery from addictions, I became very interested in
transpersonal psychology. I went back to school and got an MA in
psychology and trained at the nation's only residential center for
transpersonal treatment. Thus, I began to move toward the
coalescence of my two childhood impulses --as writer and healer.
After a few years of supervised practice as a psychotherapist, I
began to feel completely disenchanted with transpersonal and
humanistic psychology. They either spiritualized all issues or
reduced them to family systems outcomes. I then discovered the
soul-based archetypal psychology of James Hillman. My effort, since
then, has been to develop a praxis based on his work but one that
includes more attention to body and spirit.
Tammie:
You maintain that inhibitions and blocks to personal growth are more
than personal symptoms but are symptoms of the world in which we
live. Will you elaborate on that?
Cliff: I
mean that what we call pathology is a global or community disorder
borne by the individual. Hillman uses the example of eating
disorders, I think. They are really "food" disorders. We
live in a world in which food is distributed inequitably, in which
people are needlessly starving. So-called "eating
disorders" to my mind are expressions of that. If you send a
compulsive overeater as part of his treatment to do volunteer work
in a soup kitchen, the person makes a radical transformation.
The apparent increase of violence among
children is, I think, an expression of the way children are hated in
this culture. Isn't it bizarre that members of the middle class fill
therapy offices to work on the "inner child" while child
abuse rages? If you want to work on your "inner child," go
do some work with real children. The idealization of the inner child
is a kind of reaction formation to anger about the reality of
childhood -- which is NOT a state of innocence, which is NOT a time
when we usually get what we need. Another example: ADD is an
expression of the mania culture requires to sustain capitalism.
Also: Borderline disorder, where the self is completely projected
outward, is a symptom of the profound relatavizing of postmodern
culture.
Tammie:
What is deep imagination?
Cliff:
This is really an expression of depth psychology -- penetration of
the psyche's depths to the archetypal field. In the depths of the
psyche, images live autonomously, awaiting personification. When
they remain unconscious, they tend to make themselves known as
symptoms. The gods are archetypal processes of the imagination in
its depths. When they were banished, as Jung said, they became
diseases, or symptoms, what we call pathology.
Tammie:
You've bravely shared (and received a great deal of angry protests
from therapists) that you're disenchanted with psychotherapy. Why is
that?
Cliff:
This would take a book. Modern psychotherapy -- the praxis developed
100 years ago -- contained two conflicting impulses. One was
scientific and the other was aesthetic. Freud was a scientist (as
was Jung) but he regarded the narratives of his patients as
"healing fictions". Freud recognized the symbolizing and
metaphorizing character of the psyche and Jung extended this even
further as his career proceeded.
In the time since then, psychology as a
healing practice, has fallen increasingly under the influence of
science, medicine. Thus, what was recognized by Freud and Jung as
metaphorical -- such as unlikely tales of satanic cult abuse, etc.
-- has become increasingly literalized in modern practice. "The
reality of the psyche is lived in the death of the literal,"
said Gaston Bachelard. Conversely, the more symptoms are treated as
literal, the more soul, psyche, is driven into materialism and
compulsion (and the more it has to be medicated). The tragedy of
modern psychological praxis is this loss of imagination, the
understanding that the psyche by its nature fictionalizes through
the exercise of the fantasy we call memory.
My experience with clients, and as a client,
has been that psychotherapy reduces symptoms to predictable causes.
This is in the "air," so to speak, no matter how much you
try to avoid it. Clients come in with their own diagnoses -- from
ADD to PTSD and "low self esteem" to "sexual
addiction." I am sure that these diagnoses and their prescribed
treatment have some merit, but quite honestly I just haven't seen
people who tell themselves the narratives of these disorders making
much progress.
When I began working with people in my Greeting
the Muse workshops for blocked writers and artists, I saw them
making rapid progress through the active engagement of the
imagination. In these, pathology is viewed as the natural expression
of the soul -- the way into the soul. There is no
"healing" in the traditional sense, just deepening of
awareness, experience, appreciation. The best metaphor is probably
alchemy -- where a "conjunction" of opposites is sought,
not a displacement of the symptom with something. Jung spoke of the
transcendent function, where two opposites are held and transcended.
There is no sacrifice of the original quality of the
"wound," but its transcendence holds it differently.
I made a personal decision to stop calling
myself a psychotherapist because of this experience. On the other
hand, I have learned that my work is NOT for everyone. People with
dissociative disorders, for example, do not do well in work that
uses a lot of active imagination. Nor do I mean to suggest, in the
least, that medications aren't of value for many people. But I do MY
best work outside the paradigm of medical science. I even regard
medication as alchemy.
Tammie:
What does "growing down" into life mean to you?
Cliff: It
means the rooting of soul in the "underworld." We live in
an over-spiritualized culture. Although I value the spiritual, our
problem is learning the way our symptoms and our pathology, our
shadow motivations, reveal our destiny. The spiritual has become one
of our time's greatest means of repression.
Tammie:
How does the spiritual repress?
Cliff: Of
course, I don't mean that the spiritual inherently represses. It's
just my experience that in many forms of religiosity, especially
so-called New Age spirituality, problems become spiritualized and
not dealt with. The classic example, of course, is the way anger is
demonized as everything from sin to "toxicity" when in
practice, as you know, its expression is a necessary step toward
forgiveness, resolution of grief and any other problem in which the
client feels disempowered. Another problem is the way people develop
a "things are as they should be" kind of thinking which
sabotages activism. Fundamentalism, which has become a political
movement the world over, is another example of subsuming
authoritarian, controlling agendas in religious dogma.
I hasten to say that, in my view, this is a
misdirection of the religious impulse -- a repression, not a
bonafide expression of it. Were the spiritual allowed authentic
expression in all areas of life, the world would certainly be very
different.
Tammie:
What would your definition of wholeness be?
Cliff: It
would probably be pretty consistent with Jung's idea of
individuation -- the shadow brought into consciousness. In all
honesty, though, "wholeness" is one of those words that
suggests something false to me. My whole point here is that our
soul, our nature, is revealed in our wound. I think this is why the
"freak" has held such fascination and created such awe in
every culture throughout time. I asked a client once who she wanted
to be marooned with on a dessert island -- Doris Day or Bergman. The
tormented" personality is the one who offers us the most
richness and stimulation ---opportunity for soulmaking -- in life.
Tammie: Do
you believe that pain is a valuable teacher and if so, what has your
own pain taught you?
Cliff: I
have done Buddhist meditation practices for years, and I think I
mainly follow Buddhism's lead. I do not think there is any INHERENT
value in suffering. On the other hand, as the Buddha said, life IS
suffering. So one is left wanting to avoid needless suffering but
knowing that a lot of suffering is inevitable. So, you have the
choice of how you imagine your suffering. You can call it a teacher
but you don't have to call it inherently a good thing. I am thinking
of Viktor Frankl. He might say his experience in the death camps
taught him something but he'd never say the Holocaust was of
inherent value. I think this distinction is really important.
Something of value can be (but isn't always) constellated in your
relationship to suffering, but it doesn't make suffering a good
thing.
And yet, ultimately and crazily, you can end
up in the curious place of thanking the gods for your suffering. --
if you transcend it (and I REALLY want to make the point that some
suffering simply cannot be transcended). This idea was unimaginable
to me even five years ago. My childhood was very unhappy and lonely.
I dealt with it by retreating into my imagination and this fed the
part of me that later became a successful writer. I would NEVER tell
a parent that to encourage his child's artistic talent he reject and
isolate the kid. But I do know this fed my own creativity. It could
have severely damaged someone else -- and perhaps had I not had the
opportunities I did, it might have damaged me more.
I think it's dangerous, to say nothing of
hubris-filled, to ever tell anyone they should appreciate their
suffering. One can only hold the space for that possibility. It is
not everyone's fate.
Tammie: If
your life is your message, then what message do you see your life
being?
Cliff: I
spent a great deal of my life's energies worried about being an
outsider, being unconventional. If my life illuminates anything for
people, I hope it's that -- as I said earlier -- these wounds and
symptoms, these things we call pathologies that make us different,
really are the marks of our character and our soul's path."
top | next
| interviews index
home | birthquake
| about me | sageplace
vision | words of wisdom
chief seattle | life
letters | psychotherapy | essays
| thoughts | interviews
where have the frogs
gone | chat schedule | books
| send
page | email me
|