Chicken Little: The Inside Story (A Jungian ... - Inner City Books

40 Chicken Little: The Inside Story
“But why did you stop?” pressed Arnold.
“My dear fellow, there is a time for everything. I was not born to
be a sounding-board for others. I was not a psychologist by training
or inclination. I became an analyst purely by chance, or so it
seemed at the time. As we know, there is very little in one’s life
that happens fortuitously.”
“Would it be presumptuous,” said Arnold, uncorking yet another
Auberge de Jeunesse (1982), “to ask if you went to Zürich on your
knees?”
“Dear sir! Indeed I did. I went there to save myself. When I left,
re-membered, as it were, I was somewhat better equipped than before
to weather what Shakespeare euphemistically called the ‘slings
and arrows of outrageous fortune.’ I was certainly not whole, of
course, but who is?”
The old adage came to mind and I threw it out.
“In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”
“Quite so,” nodded Brillig.
He accepted Rachel’s offer of another helping of crumble.
“I practiced for many years. To those who came, I gave my best.
Executives, housewives, taxi-drivers, teachers, actors, politicians—
truly a cross-section of the human soul. I believe they got their
money’s worth. You understand I was not interested in people en
masse, only in individuals. There were many worthy causes for
which others marched in the street—as once I did myself—but I no
longer had energy for that. Analytic work was endlessly fascinating—who
has ever seen the same dream twice?—but of course I
didn’t do it only for them, it was important to me too.”
He fell silent.
“And then?” prompted Rachel.
“Ah yes, and then,” said Brillig.
I must say here that this was one of the things I liked most about
this engaging old man. He had no glib answers. He was not afraid
to keep silent when there was nothing to say, nor to reflect at length
before speaking. In this report of the evening, I would not like to
give the impression that he just ran on to a captive audience, as it
were; there were long periods when he seemed more than content
to listen to someone else.