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

7
New Dimensions
Adam does love a little drama. If it had been up to me, we’d have
got to this point the first night and be home by now. That’s what I
suggested on our way here. Give it to them straight, I said, no beating
around the bush. Adam tsk-tsked and said the goal wasn’t all
that important, we might never get there; so let’s just relax, he said,
and enjoy the journey.
Well, it wasn’t for me to say, was it? It was his idea, after all,
and it’s been his show from the beginning.
I’m not sure how I got into this. Chicken Little isn’t really my
cup of tea. I don’t mind playing stagehand, though. Adam usually
knows what he’s doing, but even flying blind he’s entertaining. He
says he’s an introvert; so then where does the showman come
from? Persona? Shadow? Anima? Puer? I used to know the jargon.
When I worked with D. he said it was important to give a name to
my different parts—so they stop possessing you, he said. Well, it
worked; at least I found my way. I owe D. a lot; it wasn’t exactly
his doing, of course, but he was there.
D. was so excited when I went off to Zürich. Maybe he was hoping
I’d relive his past. I don’t know; at the time I thought it was my
own idea, but maybe I did go just to please him. Maybe that’s why,
when it didn’t work out, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.
Shopping around for an analyst in Zürich was an interesting experience.
The Institute handed out a list of about a hundred, with
the languages they worked in. You picked a few and called them to
set up interviews. And then you got together with other candidates
and heard the gossip.
“Frau M. is hard of hearing. Speak softly and smile a lot.”
“My analyst hardly says a word. I squirm but it works for me. I
have to think for myself.”
“Dr. N.? Let me tell you about Dr. N. He lives alone with a hungry
Alsation. If she doesn’t like you, forget it.”
Dr. P. was my first choice, but I couldn’t see him right away so I
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