It is Christmas Eve. I am reflecting Ion the events of precisely one week ago and watching the snow fill the woods surrounding my home outside of Pittsburgh. There is a paradoxical sense of being at a vast distance from the polyphonic and mesmerizing energy of the Waldorf lobby and the street outside, yet of having also brought that vitality home with me, as if in one of those bottles you can buy of New York air. I had attended the Fall Meetings in 1991 for the first time; this was my second such trip, but the first on which I began to feel a part of it all and to see myself as an analyst among others.
How can I capture the optimism I feel about becoming a psychoanalyst? It seems so unwarranted if one thinks only about the external threats to private practice, the rampant casting of aspersions on Freud by the mass media and general public, or even the contentious atmosphere, however outwardly polite, of the Business Meeting.
When I recall the meetings, some indelible impressions spring to mind. I was sitting in a discussion group on “Becoming A Psychoanalyst in the Nineties,” in the presence of one of my theoretical heroes, listening to him tell of his arrival at the commitment to become an analyst. He spoke of the value of psychoanalytic training as informing everything we do professionally. He could not identify with the point of view that asks, “What's the point of the training if you can't get a lot of straightforward analytic cases?” What came through was a deep if modestly stated encouragement to all of us, mostly candidates, to persevere in the face of all pressures, so that we might experience the dignity and pleasures of this profession.
To be sure, I encountered some less-than-wonderful moments. The paper given at the plenary seemed overwrought and convoluted, and I did not understand much of it. Also, as might be expected, there were a few souls who demonstrated a capacity for complaining, rudeness, or haughtiness. I was unwilling, however, to pay these disappointments and indignities much heed. Something enjoyable seemed always to beckon from around the next comer.
Following the Business Meeting, the coffee break offered a distillation of the vitality that marked the entire weekend. I was agog, sensing my good fortune in being included by a friend in several conversations with people whose names I had seen only in print. When an officer of the Association spent twenty minutes talking with me alone, I experienced no condescension, only a firm welcome and a kind gaze. I had an internal picture of his hand resting on my shoulder.
Later that day I attended a program at which a precirculated paper entitled “On Grist for the Mill: External Reality as Defense” was discussed. The authors insisted in the paper that such phenomena as “life crises, extra-analytic contacts, enactments, and other interactions” be analyzed, especially as they are so well-suited for defensive purposes, and as they can draw the analyst into a reassuring posture, often unwittingly, thereby depriving the analysand of valuable insight. The atmosphere was electric as the authors conceded that their more radical—this was their word—agenda, to be realized in future papers, was to challenge generally accepted ideas about the analytic setting being a safe one. No, they said, reality is far safer and can be reached for defensively whenever a more dangerous psychic reality threatens. One author in particular impressed me with his resolute yet open demeanor as he directly disagreed with the two éminences grises present. I imagined myself, after a few years' gestation, putting forth my own ideas in such a setting, and wondered if I would be as anxious then as 1 feel in anticipation of such a public rite.
Finally, I recall the historic first meeting of the Candidates Council, the way for which had only just been paved at the Executive Council meeting the day before. What a group! In ninety minutes' time we forged a strong beginning, elected provisional officers, and established some early goals, with some discreet help from the analysts whose vision helped bring the group into being. I was inspired to become involved with the new council and, more generally, to overcome my ambivalence about participating in the doings of The American.
And so, at this dark hour of the year and, some would say, of this profession, I found some lights coming on for me.