Wounded healer. An archetypal dynamic that
may be constellated
in an analytic relationship.
This term derives
from the legend of
Asclepius, a Greek doctor who in recognition of his
own wounds established
a sanctuary at Epidaurus where others could be healed
of theirs.
Those
seeking to be cured went through a process called
incubation. First they
had a cleansing bath, thought to have a purifying
effect on the soul as
well as the body. Uncontaminated by the body, the soul
was free to commune
with the gods. After preliminary sacrificial
offerings, the incubants lay
on a couch and went to sleep. If they were lucky, they
had a healing
dream; if they were luckier, a snake came in the night
and bit
them.
The wounded healer archetype can be
schematized by a
variation of the diagram used by Jung to illustrate
the lines of
communication in a relationship.[See "The
Psychology of the
Transference," The Practice of
Psychother-apy,CW16, par. 422.
The drawing shows six double-headed arrows,
indicating that
communication can move in either direction-twelve ways
in which
information can pass between analyst and
analysand.
According to this
paradigm, the analyst's wounds, although presumed to
be relatively
conscious after a lengthy personal analysis, live a
shadowy existence.
They can always be reconstellated in particular
situations, and especially
when working with someone whose wounds are similar.
(They are the basis
for countertransference reactions in
analysis.)
Meanwhile, the
wounded analysand's inner healer is in the shadow but
potentially
available. The analysand's wounds activate those of
the analyst. The
analyst reacts, identifies what is happening and in
one way or another,
consciously or unconsciously, passes this awareness
back to the
analysand.
In this model, the unconscious
relationship between analyst
and analysand is quite as important, in terms of the
healing process, as
what is consciously communicated. There are two other
significant
implications:
1) Healing can take place only if
the analyst has an
ongoing relationship with the unconscious. Otherwise,
he or she may
identify with the healer archetype, a common form of
inflation.
2)
Depth psychology is a dangerous profession, since the
analyst is forever
prone to being infected by the other's wounds-or
having his or her wounds
reopened.
No analysis is capable of banishing all unconsciousness for ever. The analyst must go on learning endlessly, and never forget that each new case brings new problems to light and thus gives rise to unconscious assumptions that have never before been constellated. We could say, without too much exaggeration, that a good half of every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor's examining himself, for only what he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in the patient. It is no loss, either, if he feels that the patient is hitting him, or even scoring off him: it is his own hurt that gives the measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician. ["Fundamental Questions of Psychotherapy," Ibid para. 239.]