Complete free association with self-expression WOULD BE
a strange and mind cataclysmic event should that ever happen.
What is being suggested is you build up a skill level beyond where it is
at present. It is probable that if you already have an interest in your own mental life, you have better self-analytical abilities to start with than many. It My come as a surprise that when it comes to really personal content that you will not do as well as you expected. This does not mean the method is wrong or not for you, it is that that you have encountered resistance which move just ahead confusing and misdirection you with not only with disguised primary process language as we learned from Freud’s method of dream analysis. If you are truly achieving free association, of a dept kind, your content output is indeed closer to the dream and fantasy worlds than the one of your everyday mind usage. Depth level free association is not exactly a waking dream, because much of one normal personality shapes where and to what extent it may provide or block insight. Everyone can be assumed to have resistances, which as vague as the term is, implies a force of a ‘anti-insight’ nature is there and that basic human drive recur from in and happiness or unhappiness results in how one handles their recurrence.
In this view, self-analysis is interminable and always present. However it can (should be improved as best one can thus as paced mental hygiene procedure advancing at a comfortable pace, yet systematic. Some will turn to forms of neurotic sabotage, such a perverse pleasure in reducing the promise of help to absurdity or claiming disillusionment, hopelessness and despair. The effect of which is temporally losing all gains in the insight effects. This kind of resistance becomes clear when episodically alcohol and drugs are used as if chemical hammers to make them feel better. One should note that the term ‘backsliding’ applies not only to alcoholics, but all the rest of us in respect to out desires for a better, happier self.
At some point an interrupted self analysis can recommence, often needed is a kind of warm up, that is less than depth level self-analysis, just to get the feel of this process again.
for the moment. thus better directed and keeping one from the fates, unwanted, self destructive, neurotic, symptomatic, etc.
come comse to making a person a healthier and happier one.
much dreams when it comes to your own problems you oity
bis achieved by means of free
association. It was Freud’s ingenious discovery that free
association, hitherto used only for psychological experi-
ments, could be utilized in therapy. To associate freely
means an endeavor on the part of the patient to ex-
press without reserve, and in the sequence in which it
emerges, everything that comes into his mind, regardless
of whether it is or appears trivial, off the point, incoher-
cnt, irrational, indiscreet, tactless, embarrassing, humili-
ating. It may not be unnecessary to add that "everything"
is meant literally. It includes not only fleeting and diffuse
thoughts but also specific ideas and `memories-——·inci-
dents that have occurred since the last interview, mem-
ories of experiences at any period of life, thoughts about
self and others, reactions to the analyst or the analytical
situation, beliefs in regard to religion, morals, politics,
art, wishes and plans for the future, fantasies past and
present, and, of course, dreams. It is particularly impor-
tant that the patient express every feeling that emerges,
such as fondness, hope, triumph, discouragement, re-
lief, suspicion, anger, as well as every diffuse or spe-
cific thought. Of course the patient will have objections
to voicing certain things, for one reason or another, but
he should express these objections instead of using them
to withhold the particular thought or feeling.
Free association differs from our customary way of
thinking or talking not only in its frankness and unre-
servedness, but also in its apparent lack of direction. In
discussing a problem, talking about our plans for the
week end, explaining the value of merchandise to a cus-
tomer, we are accustomed to stick fairly closely to the
point. From the diverse currents that pass through our
minds we tend to select those elements for expression
94
which are pertinent to the situation. Even when talk-
ing with our closest friends we select what to express and
what to omit, even though we are not aware of it. In
free association, however, there is an effort to express
everything that passes through the mind, regardless of
where it may lead. _
Like many other human endeavors, free association
can be used for constructive or for obstructive purposes.
If the patient has an unambiguous determination to re-
veal himself to the analyst his associations will be mean-
ingful and suggestive. If he has stringent interests not to
face certain unconscious factors his associations will be
unproductive. These interests may be so prevailing that
the good sense of free association is turned into non-
sense. What results then is a flight of meaningless ideas
having merely a mock resemblance to their true purpose.
Thus the value of free association depends entirely on
the spirit in which it is done. If the spirit is one of ut-
most frankness and sincerity, of determination to face
one’s own problems, and of willingness to open oneself
to another human being, then the process can serve the
purpose for which it is intended.
In general terms this purpose is to enable both analyst
and patient to understand how the latter’s mind works
and thereby to understand eventually the structure of
his personality. There are also specific issues, however,
which can be cleared up by free associations-—the mean-
ing of an attack of anxiety, of a sudden fatigue, of a fan-
tasy or a dream, why the patient’s mind goes blank at
a certain point, why he has a sudden wave of resentment
toward the analyst, why he was nauseated in the res-
zaurant last night, was impotent with his wife, or was
tongue-tied in a discussion. The patient will then try to
95
see what occurs to him when he thinks about the spe- i
ciiic issue. °
To illustrate, a woman patient had a dream in which
one element was a distress about something precious
being stolen. I asked her what occurred to her in con-
nection with this particular fragment of the dream. The
first association that appeared was a memory of a maid
who had stolen household goods over a period of two
years; the patient had dimly suspected the maid, and
she remembered the deep feeling of uneasiness she had
had before the final discovery. The second association
was a memory of childhood fears of gypsies stealing chil-
dren. The next was a mystery story in which jewels had
been stolen from the crown of a saint. Then she remem- _
bered a remark she had overheard, to the effect that
analysts are racketeers. Finally it occurred to her that
something in the dream reminded her of the ana1yst’s
ofiice.
The associations indicated beyond doubt that the
dream was related to the analytical situation. The re-
mark about analysts being racketeers suggested a con-
cern about the fees, but this tack proved to be mislead-
ing; she had always regarded the fees as reasonable and
worth while. Was the dream a response to the preceding
analytical hour? She did not believe that it could be, be-
cause she had left the office with a pronounced feeling
of relief and gratitude. The substance of the previous
analytical session was that she had recognized her periods
of listlessness and inertia as a kind of subversive depres-
sion; that these periods had not appeared to her or others
in this light because she had had no feelings of despond-
ency; that actually she suffered more and was more vul-
nerable than she admitted to herself; that she had often
96
repressed hurt feelings because she felt compelled to
jaw the role of an ideally strong character who could
;;tpe with everything. Her relief·had been similar to
zhat of a person who at great expense to himself has
L;·· ed above his means all his life and now understands
E Jr the first time that such a bluff is not necessary. This
relief, however, had not lasted. At any rate, it now struck
Iier suddenly that after that session she had been quite
;rritable, that she had had a slight stomach upset and
had been unable to fall asleep.
I shall not go over the associations in detail. The most
important clue proved to be the association of the mys-
tery story: I had stolen a jewel out of her crown. The
striving to give to herself and others the impression of
outstanding strength had been a burden, to be sure, but
it had also served several important functions: it gave
her a feeling of pride, which she badly needed as long
as her real self-confidence was shaken; and it was her
most powerful defense against recognizing her existing
vulnerability and the irrational trends accounting for
it. Thus the role she was playing was actually precious
to her, and our uncovering the fact that it was merely a
role constituted a threat to which she had reacted with
indignation.
Free association would be entirely unfit as a method
for making an astronomical calculation or for gaining
clarity as to the meaning of a political situation. These
tasks require sharp and concise reasoning. But free asso-
ciation constitutes a thoroughly appropriate method—
according to our present knowledge, the only method
——for understanding the existence, importance, and
meaning of unconscious feelings and strivings.
One more word about the value of free association for
97
selfrecognition: it does not work magic. It would be
wrong to expect that as soon as rational control is re-
leased all that we are afraid of or despise in ourselves
will be revealed. We may be fairly sure that no more
will appear this way than we are able to stand. Only de-
rivatives of the repressed feelings or drives will emerge,
and as in dreams they will emerge in distorted form or
in symbolic expressions. Thus in the chain of associa-
tions mentioned above the saint was an expression of
the patient’s unconscious aspirations. Of course, unex-
pected factors will sometimes appear in a dramatic fash-
ion, but this will happen only after considerable previ-
ous work on the same subject has brought them close
to the surface. Repressed feelings may appear in the
form of a seemingly remote memory, as in the chain of
associations already described. There the patient’s anger
at me for having injured her inflated notions about her-
self did not appear as such; only indirectly she told me
that I was like a low criminal who violated holy tabus
and robbed values precious to others.
Free associations do not work miracles, but if carried
out in the right spirit they do show the way the mind
operates, as X-rays show the otherwise invisible move-
ments of lungs or intestines. And they do this in a more
or less cryptic language.
To associate freely is diflicult for everyone. Not only
does it contrast with our habits of communication and
with conventional etiquette, but it entails further difh-
culties which differ with each patient. These may be
classified under various headings though they are in-
evitably overlapping.
In the first place, there are patients in whom the whole
process of association arouses fears or inhibitions, be-
98
cause if they should permit free passage to every feeling
and thought they would trespass on territory that is tabu.
The particular fears that will be touched off depend ulti-
mately on the existing neurotic trends. A few examples
may illustrate.
An apprehensive person, overwhelmed since his early
years by the threat of the unpredictable dangers of life,
is unconsciously set upon avoiding risks. He clings to
the fictitious belief that by straining his foresight to the
utmost he can control life. Consequently he avoids tak-
ing any step of which he cannot visualize the effects in
advance: his uppermost law is never to be caught off
guard. For such a person free association means the ut-
most recklessness, since it is the very meaning of the
process to allow everything to emerge without knowing
in advance what will appear and whither it will lead.
The difficulty is of another kind for a highly detached
person who feels safe only when wearing a mask and who
automatically wards off any intrusion into the precincts
of his private life. Such a one lives in an ivory tower and
feels threatened by any attempt to trespass into its vicin-
ity. For him free association means an unbearable in-
trusion and a threat to his isolation.
And there is the person who lacks moral autonomy
and does not dare to form his own judgments. He is not
accustomed to think and feel and act on his own initi-
ative but, like an insect extending its feelers to test out
the situation, he automatically examines the environ-
ment for what is expected of him. His thoughts are good
or right when approved by others, and bad or wrong
when disapproved. He, too, feels threatened by the idea
of expressing everything that comes into his mind, but
in quite a different way from the others: knowing only
99
how to respond, not how to express himself spontane-
ously, he feels at a loss. What does the analyst expect
of Him? Should he merely talk incessantly? Is the analyst
int rested in his dreams? Or in his sexual life? Is he ex-
expected to fall in love with the analyst? And what does
latter approve or disapprove of?
For this person the
use, of frank and spontaneous self-expression conjures
up these disquieting uncertainties, and also threatens
an exposure to possible disapproval.
And, finally, a person caught within the traps of his
own conflicts has become inert and has lost the capacity
to feel himself as a moving force. He can proceed with
an endeavor only when the initiative comes from the
outside. He is quite willing to answer questions but feels
lost when left to his own resources. Thus he is unable
to associate freely because his capacity for spontaneous
activity is inhibited. And this inability to associate may
provoke in him a kind of panic if he is one to whom suc-
cess in all things is a driving necessity, for he is likely
then to regard his inhibition as a "failure."
These examples illustrate how for some persons the
whole process of free association arouses fears or inhi-
bitions. But even those who are capable of the process
in general have in them one or another area that gives
rise to anxiety if it is touched upon. Thus in the example
of Clare, who on the whole was able to associate freely,
anything approaching her repressed demands on life
aroused anxiety at the beginning of her analysis.
Another difficulty lies in the fact that an unreserved
expression of all feelings and thoughts is bound to lay
bare traits that the person is ashamed of and that he is
humiliated to report. As mentioned in the chapter on
neurotic trends, the traits that are regarded as humiliat-
IOO
ing vary considerably. A person who is proud of his cyn-
ical pursuit; of material interests will be bewildered and
ashamed if he betrays idealistic propensities. A person
who is proud of his angelic facade will be ashamed to
betray signs of selfishness and inconsiderateness. And
the same humiliation will occur when any, pretense is
uncovered.
Many of the patient’s difficulties in expressing his
thoughts and feelings are related to the analyst. Thus
the person who is unable to associate freely-—whether
because it would threaten his defenses or because he has
lost too much of his own initiative—is likely to transfer
to the analyst his aversion to the process or his chagrin
at failure, and react with an unconscious defiant obstruc-
tion. That his own development, his happiness, is at
stake is practically forgotten. And even if the process
does not give rise to hostility toward the analyst there
is the further fact that fears concerning the analyst’s at-
titude are always present to some degree. Will he under-
stand? Will he condemn? Will he look down upon me
or turn against me? Is he really concerned with my own
best development, or does he want to mold me into his
pattern? Will he feel hurt if I make personal remarks
about him? Will he lose patience if I do not accept his
suggestions?
It is this infinite variety of concerns and obstacles that
makes unreserved frankness such an extremely difficult
task. As a result, evasive tactics will inevitably occur. The
patient will deliberately omit certain incidents. Certain
factors will never occur to him in the analytical hour.
Feelings will not be expressed because they are too fleet-
ing. Details will be omitted because he considers them
trivial. "Figuring out" will take the place of a free flow
I OI
of thoughts. He will stick to a long-winded account of
daily occurrences. There is almost no end to the ways in
which he may consciously or unconsciously try to evade
this requirement.
Thus, while it may sound like a simple task to say
everything that comes to one’s mind, its difficulties in
reality are so great that it can be only approximately
fulfilled. The bigger the obstacles in the way, the more
unproductive will the person become. But the more he
approximates it, the more transparent will he be to him-
self and to the analyst.
The second task confronting the patient in analysis
is to face his problems squarely—to gain an insight into
them by recognizing factors that were hitherto uncon-
scious. This is not only an intellectual process, however,
as the word "recognize" might suggest; as emphasized in
analytical literature since Ferenczi and Rank, it is both
an intellectual and an emotional experience. If I may
use a slang expression, it means gaining information
about ourselves which we feel in our "guts."
The insight may be a recognition of an entirely re-
pressed factor, such as the discovery made by a compul-
sively modest or benevolent person that actually he has
a diffuse contempt for people. It may be a recognition
that a drive which is at the level of awareness has an
intensity, and quality that were never dreamed
Of -- a pcrson "‘*¤ay know that he is ambitious, for instance,
but ncvcr have Suspected before that his ambition is an
audcvouring Pflssmn K determining his life and contain-
ing the destructive clam ient of wanting a vindictive tri-
umph over others. Or the 1.. Aim may be 8 Ending that
certain seemingly unconnected a. Ctors are Closely inter-
I O2
related. A person may have known that he has certain
grandiose expectations as to his significance and his
achievements in life, and have been aware also that he
has a melancholy outlook and a general foreboding that
he will succumb to some pending disaster within a brief
span, but never have suspected that either attitude rep-
resents a problem or that the two have any connection.
In this case his insight might reveal to him that his urge
to be admired for his unique value is so rigid that he
feels a deep indignation at its non-fulfillment and there-
fore devalues life itself: like an inveterate aristocrat who
is faced with the necessity of stooping to a lower stand-
ard of living, he would rather stop living than be satis-
fied with less than he feels entitled to expect. Thus his
preoccupation with impending disaster would actually
represent an underlying wish to die, partly as a spiteful
gesture toward life for not having measured up to his
expectations.
It is impossible to say in general terms what it means
to a patient to obtain an insight into his problems, just
as it would be impossible to say what it means to a per-
son to be exposed to sunshine. Sunshine may kill him
or save his life, it may be fatiguing or refreshing, its ef-
fect depending on its intensity and also on his own con-
dition. Similarly, an insight may be extremely painful
or it may bring an immediate relief. Here we are on
much the same ground as was covered above in the dis-
cussion of the therapeutic value of the various steps in
analysis, but it will do no harm to recapitulate those
remarks for this slightly different context.
There are several reasons why an insight may produce
relief. To begin with the least important consideration,
it is often a gatifying intellectual experience merely to
IO3
learn the reasons for some phenomenon not hitherto
understood; in any situation in life it is likely to be a
relief merely to recognize the truth. This consideration
applies not only to elucidation of present peculiarities
but also to memories of hitherto forgotten childhood
experiences, if such memories help one to understand
precisely what factors influenced one’s development at
the start.
More important is the fact that an insight may reveal
to a person his own true feelings by showing him the
speciousness of his former attitude. When he becomes
free to express the anger, irritation, contempt, fear, or
whatever it was that was hitherto repressed, an active
and alive feeling has replaced a paralyzing inhibition
and a step is taken toward finding himself. The inad-
vertent laughter that frequently occurs at such discov-
eries reveals the feeling of liberation. This may hold
[rue even if the finding itself is far from agreeable, even
if the person recognizes, for instance, that all his life he
has merely tried to ‘“get by" or has tried to hurt and
dominate others. In addition to producing this increase
in self-feeling, in aliveness, in activity, the insight may
remove the tensions generated by his former necessity to
check his true feelings: by increasing the forces that
were needed for repression it may increase the amount
of available energies.
Finally, closely related to the liberation of energies,
the lifting of a repression frees the way for action. As
long as a striving or feeling is repressed the person is
caught in a blind alley. As long as he is entirely una-
ware of a hostility to others, for example, and knows
only that he feels awkward with people, he is helpless
to do anything about his hostility; there is no possibility
I O4
of understanding the reasons for it or of discovering
when it is justified or of diminishing or removing it.
But if the repression is lifted and he feels the hostility
as such, then and only then can he take a good look at it
and proceed to discover the vulnerable spots in himself
which produced it and to which he has been as blind as
to the hostility itself. By thus opening up the possibility
of eventually changing something about the disturbing
factors, the insight is likely to produce considerable re—
lief. Even if immediate change is difficult there is the
vision of a future way out of the distress. This holds true
even though the initial reaction may be one of hurt or
fright. Clare’s insight into the fact that she had exces-
sive wishes and demands for herself provoked a panic in
her at first, because it shook the compulsive modesty
which was one of the pillars supporting her feeling of
security. But as soon as the acute anxiety subsided it
gave her relief, for it represented the possibility of a
liberation from the shackles that had tied her hand and
foot.
But the first reaction to an insight may be one of pain
rather than relief. As discussed in a previous chapter,
there are two principal kinds of negative responses to
an insight. One is to feel it only as a threat; the other is
to react in discouragement and hopelessness. Different
though they appear, these two responses are essentially
merely variations in degree. They are both determined
by the fact that the person is not, or not yet, able and
willing to give up certain fundamental claims on life.
Which claims they are depends, of course, on his neu-
rotic trends.
It is because of the compulsive nature of these trends
that the claims are so rigid and so hard to relinquish.
IO5
One who is obsessed by a craving for power, for instance,
can do without comfort, pleasures, women, friends,
everything that usually makes life desirable, but power
he must have. As long as he is determined not to relin-
quish this claim, any questioning of its value can only
irritate or frighten him. Such fright reactions are pro-
duced not only by insights disproving the feasibility of
his particular striving but also by those revealing that
its pursuit prevents him from attaining other objectives
that are also important to him, or from overcoming
painful handicaps and sufferings. Or, to take other ex·
amples, one who suffers from his isolation and his awl<·
wardness in contacts with others, but is still basically
unwilling to leave his ivory tower, must react with anx-
iety to any insight showing him that he cannot possibly l
attain the one objective-—less isolation——without aban-
doning the other—his ivory tower. As long as a person
basically refuses to relinquish his compulsive belief that
he can master life through the sheer force of his will,
any insight indicating the hctitious nature of that be-
lief must arouse anxiety, because it makes him feel as
if the ground on which he stands is pulled away from
under him.
The anxiety produced by such insights is the person’s
response to a dawning vision that he must eventually
change something in his foundations if he wants to be-
come free. But the factors that must be changed are still
deeply entrenched, are still vitally important to him
as a means of coping with himself and others. He is
therefore afraid to change, and the insight produces not
relief but panic.
And if he feels deep down that such a change, though
indispensable for his liberation, is entirely out of the
106
question, he will react with a feeling of hopelessness
rather than fright. In his conscious mind this feeling is
often overshadowed by a deep anger toward the analyst:
He feels that the analyst is being pointlessly cruel in
leading him to such insights when he cannot do any-
thing about them anyhow. This reaction is understand-
able because none of us is willing to endure hurts and
hardships if they do not ultimately serve some purpose
we affirm.
A negative reaction to an insight is not necessarily the
last word in the matter. Sometimes, in fact, it is of rela-
tively short duration and quickly changes to relief. I
need not elaborate here the factors that determine
whether a person’s attitude toward a particular insight
can change through further psychoanalytic work. lt is
sufficient to say that a change is within the range of pos-
sibility.
Reactions to findings about ourselves cannot be fully
understood, however, by thus cataloguing them as pro-
ducing relief or fear or hopelessness. No matter what
immediate reaction is provoked, an insight always means
a challenge to the existing equilibrium.lA person driven
by compulsive needs has functioned badly. He has pur-
sued certain goals at great expense to his genuine wishes.
He is inhibited in many ways. He is vulnerable in large
and diffuse areas. The necessity to combat repressed
fears and hostilities saps his energy. He is alienated from
himself and others. But notwithstanding all these defects
in his psychic machinery the forces operating within him
still constitute an organic structure within which each
tactor is interrelated with the others. In consequence,
rio factor can be changed without influencing the whole
vrganism. Strictly speaking there is no such thing as an
I 07
isolated insight. Naturally it often happens that a per-
son will stop at one or another point. He may be satis-
fied with the result attained, he may be discouraged, he
may actively resist going farther. But in principle every
insight gained, no matter how small in itself, opens up
new problems because of its interrelation with other
psychic factors, and thereby carries dynamite with which
the whole equilibrium can be shaken. The more rigid
the neurotic system, the less can any modification be
tolerated. And the more closely an insight touches upon
the foundations, the more anxiety will it arouse. "Re-
sistance," as I shall elaborate later on, ultimately springs
from the need to maintain the status quo.
The third task awaiting the patient is to change those
factors within himself which interfere with his best de-
velopment. This does not mean only a gross modifica-
tion in action or behavior, such as gaining or regaining
the capacity for public performances, for creative work,
for co-operation, for sexual potency, or losing phobias
or tendencies toward depression. These changes will au-
tomatically take place in a successful analysis. They are
not primary changes, however, but result from less vis-
ible changes within the personality, such as gaining a
more realistic attitude toward oneself instead of waver·
ing between self-aggandizement and self-degradation,
gaining a spirit of activity, assertion, and courage in-
stead of inertia and fears, becoming able to plan instead
of drifting, hnding the center of gravity within oneself
instead of hanging on to others with excessive expecta-
tions and excessive accusations, gaining greater friend-
liness and understanding for people instead of harbor-
ing a defensive diffuse hostility. If changes like these
108
take place external changes in overt activities or symp-
toms are bound to follow, and to a corresponding degree.
Many changes that go on within the personality do
not constitute a special problem. Thus an insight may
in itself constitute a change, if it is a real emotional ex-
perience. One might say that nothing has changed if an
insight is gained, for example, into a hostility hitherto
repressed: the hostility is still there, and only the aware·
ness of it is different. This is true only in a mechanistic
sense. Actually it makes an enormous difference if the
person who had known only that he was stilted, fatigued,
or dilfusely irritated recognizes the concrete hostility
which, through its very repression, had generated these
disturbances. As already discussed, he may feel like an-
other human being in such a moment of discovery. And
unless he manages to discard the recognition immedi-
ately it is bound to influence his relations with other
people; `it will arouse a feeling of surprise at himself,
stimulate an incentive to investigate the meaning of the
hostility, remove his feeling of helplessness in the face
of something unknown, and make him feel more alive.
There are also changes that occur automatically as
an indirect result of an insight. The patient’s compul-
sive needs will be diminished as soon as any source of
anxiety is diminished. As soon as a repressed feeling of
humiliation is seen and understood, a greater friend-
liness will result automatically, even though the desir-
ability of friendliness has not been touched upon. lf a
{ear of failure is recognized and lessened, the person will
spontaneously become more active and take risks that
he hitherto unconsciously avoided.
Thus far, insight and change appear to coincide, and
it might seem unnecessary to present these two processes
IO9
as separate tasks. But there are situations during anal-
ysis-—as there are in life itself—when despite an insight
one may fight tooth and nail against changing. Some of
these situations have already been discussed. They may
be generalized by saying that when a patient recognizes
that he must renounce or modify his compulsive claims
on life, if he wants to have his energies free for his proper
development, a hard fight may begin in which he uses
his last resources to disprove the necessity or the possi-
bility of change.
Another situation in which insight and change may
be quite distinct arises when the analysis has led the per-
son face to face with a conflict in which a decision must
be made. Not all conflicts uncovered in psychoanalysis
are of this nature. If contradictory drives are recognized
between, for instance, having to control others and hav-
ing to comply with their expectations, there is no ques-
tion of deciding between the two tendencies. Both must
be analyzed, and when the person has found a better re-
lation to himself and others both will disappear or be
considerably modified. It is a different matter, however,
if a hitherto unconscious conflict emerges between ma-
terial self—interest and ideals. The issue may have been
befogged in various ways: the cynical attitude may have
been conscious while the ideals were repressed, or con-
sciously refuted if they sometimes penetrated to the sur-
face; or the wish for material advantages (money, pres-
tige) may have been repressed while consciously the
ideals were rigidly adhered to; or there may have been
a continual crisscrossing between taking ideals in a cyn-
ical or in a serious way. But when such a conflict comes
out in the open it is not enough to see it and to under-
stand its ramifications. After a thorough clarification of
IIO
all the problems involved the patient must eventually
take a stand. He must make up his mind whether and
to what extent he wants to take his ideals seriously, and
what space he will allot to material interests. Here, then,
is one of the occasions when a patient may hesitate to
take the step from insight to a revision of his attitudes.
It is certainly true, however, that the three tasks with
which a patient is confronted are closely interrelated.
His complete self-expression prepares the way for the
insights, and the insights bring about or prepare for
the change. Each step influences the others. The more
he shrinks back from gaining a certain insight, the more
his free associations will be impeded. The more he re-
sists a certain change, the more he will fight an insight.
The goal, however, is change. The high value attributed
to self-recognition is not for the sake of insight alone,
but for the sake of insight as a means of revising, modify-
ing, controlling the feelings, strivings, and attitudes.
The patient's attitude toward changing often goes
tzrough various steps. Frequently he starts treatment
with unadmitted expectations of a magical cure, which
usually means a hope that all his disturbances will van-
1sh without his having to change anything or even with-
out having to work actively at himself. Consequently
qie endows the analyst with magical powers and tends to
admire him blindly. Then, when he realizes that this
hope cannot be fulfilled, he tends to withdraw the previ-
· us "confidence" altogether. He argues that if the analyst
A 4 simple human being like himself what good can he
; ¤ him? More important, his own feeling of hopeless-
gcss about doing anything actively with himself comes
1, the surface. Only when and if his energies can be lib-
;;.a:ed for active and spontaneous work can he finally
III
regard his development as his own job, and the analyst
as someone who merely lends him a helping hand.
The tasks with which the patient in analysis is con-
fronted are replete with difficulties and with benefits.
To express oneself with utter frankness is hard, but it is
also a blessing. And the same can be said about gaining
insight and about change. To resort to analysis as one
of the possible helps toward one’s own development is
therefore far from taking the easy road. It requires on
the part of the patient a good deal of determination,
self-discipline, and active struggle. In this respect it is
no different from other situations in life that help one’s
growth. We become stronger through overcoming the
hardships we meet on our way.
