Basic Journal Exercises for Ira Progoff’s Intensive Journal Process

Recently one of my readers asked if I could provide clearer instructions for Progoff’s Intensive Journal Process.  Since I was unable to reply directly, I am responding publicly by posting the instructions I distilled for myself more than three decades ago.  Around that time I presented two informal journal workshops for some of my friends. I did not do this professionally nor did I receive monetary compensation. 

Introduction & General Instructions

NOTE:  The following information and instructions are revisions of information from At a Journal Workshop:  The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal Process by Ira Progoff, published by Dialogue House Library, New York, NY, 1975.

            Progoff’s Intensive Journal is a way you can explore your past as it relates to the present.  This exploration involves using both the conscious, rational mind and the nonrational, intuitive mind.  The basic writing for the Intensive Journal involves preparatory work that leads to writing dialogues with persons and events/concepts.  There are many other writing exercises, but these are the basics.  According to Ira Progoff each person has his or her own, unique evolutionary process.  His Intensive Journal is a way to cooperate with this process.

Metaphors may help explain the need to begin with the with the preliminary exercises — Period Log, Period Image, Life Steppingstones and Steppingstone Period/Life History Log.  Gardening is one of them.  One must prepare a garden by breaking up the soil to make it fertile ground for new growth.  The beginning writing exercises are intended to accomplish this.  A computer is another.  A computer can store vast amounts of information, but only a portion of that is available for active use — Random Access Memory or RAM.  When RAM is increased, more information is available and more work can get done more quickly.  Our minds, like computers, contain far more information than is available in consciousness.  The basic journal exercises increase the amount of conscious information.

(Meditations for the Period Log, the Period Image, and Life Steppingstones are included in an addendum at the end of this article. The meditations are taken from Ira Progoff’s work.  I used the meditations when I gave the journal workshops for my friends.  They were able to begin writing almost immediately after the meditations.  It felt as if those words provided sufficient instruction and inner focus to engage in the process with little need for questions.)

Things to remember:

  • Label and date all your journal entries with the month, day, and year.
  • Don’t destroy what you write. It might not seem to make much sense today, but next week or next month or next year it may prove to be very valuable.  Your journal can be a charting of your experiences in the medical sense of the word.  Cumulative entries can show patterns that may help you understand yourself better or provide suggestions for writing in other sections of the journal.
  • Let your writing happen. Let it flow without criticism or censorship.  A disorganized, rambling entry is often more valuable in the insights it makes available than one that resembles a literary masterpiece.
  • File your journal entries. As you accumulate different types of journal entries, file them in the appropriate section of your journal or make notes referencing and cross referencing entries to different sections.  Where you write something is not as important as that it gets written.  Where it’s filed is less important than being able to find it when you need it.

Period Log

The Period Log allows us to discover where we are in our growth process now.  It should cover a period of time that is more than last month.  It usually covers three to six months or longer.  If you haven’t done much interior work, the Period Log may cover several years. (See Addendum for a Period Log Meditation)

To write in the Period Log:

  1. Sit in silence allowing our mind to travel back over this period in your life. Let it take shape within you. If you’re writing in a group, you’ll probably have about 45 minutes to do this entry.
  2. Focus more specifically on the contents of this recent period and write about them. Write the memories and facts of your experiences without judgment and without censorship. Record the specific contents but not the details of this period.  This is an outline picture and an overview of this recent time in your life.  Write simply and briefly.
  3. Questions to help your writing:
  • When did this period start? Is there a particular event associated with this period?
  • What memories do you have of this period?
  • Angers, arguments, physical fights?
  • Friendships: loving, spiritual, and/or physical?
  • Relationship with your family?
  • Your work?
  • Social activities?
  • Physical illness?
  • Inner experiences: spiritual, artistic, extrasensory, dreams?
  • Success or failures?
  • Good luck or misfortune?
  • Strange, uncanny events or coincidences?
  1. Begin your writing with: “This time that I’m living in began when…”
  2. Conclude your entry with: “This time that I’m living in feels like…”
  3. When you’ve finished writing the Period Log, examine your feelings about what you’ve written. Are you comfortable with it? Does it feel complete?  Record your answers to these questions at the end of the Period Log Entry.
  4. Read it aloud to yourself. Does this change your experience of what you’ve written? Record your reaction.

Period Image

The Period Log primarily used your rational mind to focus on the conscious thoughts and memories of the “now” of your life.  The Period Image uses the nonrational mind to do the same thing.

(Progoff records this journal entry in a separate log called the Twilight Imagery Log.  I find it more helpful to record this entry in the Period Log section of the journal immediately after the Period Log entry.)  

Twilight imaging allows access to the nonrational and the intuitive.  The twilight state is that place between waking and sleeping.  It happens just before you drift off to sleep.  It also happens during those times we’ve put ourselves on “automatic pilot.”  We’re performing some routine task, like driving or washing dishes or shaving and our minds are a million miles away.  We finish our task but don’t remember doing it.

While we speak of “twilight imaging,” the experience may not be an image.  It could be sound, a touch, a sensation, a fragrance, or any other type of experience.  Each of us has our own unique inner language of metaphor and symbol.  Whatever comes to you in whatever form is your “twilight imagery.”

For a workshop I would say:

“I’m going to read a guided imagery for you, and after I finish reading, I’ll allow about ten minutes for you to sit in silence.  I’ll watch the time, and I’ll bring you back gently when it’s over.  Just relax.  This is simply a time for you to be with yourself.  Allow the experience to just happen.  Let go of control of your mind, and allow whatever happens to flow without censorship or direction.  Afterward you’ll record your experiences in the Twilight Imagery Log or Period Log.”  (See Addendum for a Period Image Meditation)

For someone working alone:

  1. Reread your Period Log entry. Read it aloud if possible.
  2. Sit in silence. Relax and just be with yourself.
  3. Allow the experience to just happen without censorship, control or direction.
  4. Record your experiences when you are ready.
  5. Reread what you’ve written. Read it aloud if possible.
  6. Answer and record the following questions: How does your twilight imagery experience relate to the Period Log? Does it relate?  Is it parallel?  Opposite?  Seemingly unrelated?


Life Steppingstones

The purpose of the Life Steppingstones is to “loosen the soil” of our lives to give us access to life events that we may have been too pressured to truly experience at the time they were happening and to get acquainted or reacquainted with who we are and from where we’ve come.  Progoff uses a mountain climbing metaphor:  Life Steppingstones as like “markings’ that a mountain climber makes.  They outline the route that he’s taken — sometimes up, sometimes down — to get from one place to another.

Life Steppingstones are significant events that mark a period of time in our lives and set the theme for that period.  The Life Steppingstones are like chapter titles.  They are the chapter titles you would use if you were to write your autobiography now.  The next time you record Life Steppingstones will be from a different “now,” and may reflect different themes and patterns.

You should have no fewer than 8 and no more than 16 steppingstones; 10 to 12 are recommended.  The limit on the number is to encourage you to see patterns and cycles in your life rather than a series or list of significant events.  The limit helps us to see the relationships between the various events of our lives.

As you list your Life Steppingstones, specific memories of events associated with a steppingstone may come to mind.  Note them briefly under that steppingstone as if they were subheadings within that chapter.

The steppingstones may not come to mind in chronological order.  Write them down as they present themselves.  When your list of steppingstones is complete, you can number them appropriately.

Begin by sitting in silence.  I’ll get us started with a reading from At a Journal Workshop, page 104.  (This is included in the Addendum of this article as the Life Steppingstone Meditation.)  When I finish, spend some additional time in silence.  Come back to the room when you are ready and write your Life Steppingstones.  You’ll have about 10 minutes in which to complete the whole entry — time in silence and writing.

Outline of instructions for Life Steppingstones:

  1. Sit in silence passively reflecting over the course of your life.
  2. Write the steppingstones as they come to mind including specific memories associated with each as a subheading.
  3. Number the steppingstones in chronological order if they need to be.
  4. Read them to yourself in chronological order — the steppingstones only, without the subheadings. Read them aloud if possible.
  5. Record your reactions to reading the steppingstones.


Steppingstone Period

A Steppingstone Period is one of the Life Steppingstones expanded upon.  Writing a Steppingstone Period is like writing a Period Log except that it is about the past rather than the present.  Your opening sentence begins with:  “It was a time when…” And you can conclude the entry with a metaphor or a simile:  “That period of my life was like…”  Refer back to the Period Log section for more complete instructions.

It’s not necessary to write a Steppingstone Period for each Life Steppingstone unless you want to.  It’s enough to write about one or two that seem to be particularly meaningful to you now.  If none seem especially meaningful, write on the first one that comes to mind.  The Steppingstone Section provides leads for other writing.


Life History Log

This section contains what it says, life history.  This entry resembles a Steppingstone Period, but it’s longer and more complete.  (In practice, I don’t do Steppingstone Period entries.  I use a Life Steppingstone as a chapter title and write that chapter of my life in the Life History Log.)


Dialogue with Persons

In the Intensive Journal you can dialogue with anyone.  You can dialogue with people living or dead, people known to you or historical figures from the distant past.  You can even dialogue with different parts of yourself or with yourself at another age.

To dialogue with a person:

Note:  Steps 1 through 4 are optional.

  1. Sit in silence reflecting on your relationship with this person.
  2. In two or three paragraphs write a brief description of that relationship.
  3. Read the statement back to yourself. Make whatever changes you feel are important, BUT write the as additions.
  4. Record your feelings as you wrote the description and also as you read it to yourself.

You may begin here.

  1. Write the steppingstones for this person’s life. Sit in silence. Allow the steppingstones to come to mind.  Record them in the first person — i.e., “I was born.”  List as many steppingstones as you can or want to.  There is no limit on the number of steppingstones here.  If the person is someone you don’t know very well, the number of steppingstones may be very few.  The purpose of these steppingstones is to place us in the actuality of the person’s life as though we were participating in it from within.
  2. Read the steppingstone list to yourself when it is completed. Then sit in silence focusing on the person and the relationship. Record whatever comes to you in twilight imagery after the person’s steppingstones.
  3. Return to the silence and allow the person to become present to you.
  4. Allow the dialogue to begin. Record it as it unfolds within you. Don’t try to direct it.  Let it happen.  The dialogue writes itself.
  5. After writing the dialogue, return to stillness. Become aware of the emotions you had while writing it and record them.
  6. Read the dialogue to yourself. Record your responses to the reading. Is it different from the writing?  Read it aloud if you wish.
  7. Allow time to pass and read it again. In a few days, when enough time has passed to give you some distance from the dialogue script, read it again. If the dialogue wants to continue allow it to do so.  You can even allow monologues to happen, but if it is complete, let it be.  Record the date and your reactions.


Dialogue with Events

Events can be anything that aren’t persons.  They can be actual events like a party, an accident, an achievement, or a failure.  Events can be abstract concepts, too, like emotions or truth or justice.  Circumstances that exert a real influence on us are no longer fixed and opaque.  They become accessible to us as persons with whom we can communicate.

To dialogue with events:

  1. Write a focusing statement. This could be a brief description of an event or situation, or it could be a working definition. (Often I use a dictionary definition as a starting point and add my own parts to it to complete what I mean by the word or event.)
  2. Do steppingstones of its life. If it is a real situation, record the events leading to its occurrence. If it’s an abstract concept, record your experiences of this concept as the event’s steppingstones.
  3. Sit in silence. When the steppingstones are finished, sit in silence drifting to the level of twilight imagery. Let the images come and record them.
  4. Read the steppingstones again allowing them to present the event to you as a person.
  5. In stillness feel the presence of the person and speak to that person.
  6. Sit in silence again. When the dialogue is finished, sit in silence becoming calm again.
  7. Reread the script. Compare feelings while rereading it to feelings while writing. Record both.
  8. Let the dialogue sit. Then come back to it several days later to reread it and extend it if necessary. Record your reactions to this rereading along with the date.


Daily Log

Keeping a daily log is recommended, but it’s not essential.  It’s similar to a diary but with the emphasis on feelings and inner experiences rather than external events.

To write in the Daily Log:

  1. Sit in silence first and let your mind gently go back over your day. Spend a minute or two or maybe even five or more in silence.
  2. Record briefly the events of your day to provide a context for your feelings and inner experiences.
  3. Write about your feelings and inner experiences. (It’s encouraged that you write about the experiences as they happen. Some people carry a notebook with them and write in it from time to time during the day.  For most people this is not possible but writing about inner experiences as they occur happens more often than you would expect.  Usually new experiences occur while you’re writing, and because you’re writing, they can be recorded as they happen.)
  4. Record dreams here. This is a brief account to fix it in your memory so that later it can be recorded in full in your Dream Log.
  5. Write whatever and whenever you can. Often daily entries are impossible because our lives are too busy. Summarize the intervening days — the outer events and the inner experiences associated with them.



Dreams can be recorded in the Daily Log or in the Dream Log or both.  If a dream is recorded in only one log, it should be cross referenced in the other.  Dreams can be worked with in Dream Enlargement and/or Dream Leads.

Dream Enlargement:

  1. Put yourself back into the movement of the dream. Reread it two or three times. Then sit in silence and allow the dream to continue.
  2. Record your experiences. The recording can be done in brief, half-legible scrawls during the process. Sometimes it’s too difficult to break away to do this and much must be held in memory.  You can speak aloud the experiences as they happen to help hold them in memory or use a tape recorder.  (Progoff suggests a separate section of the journal for this entry.  I prefer to place this entry after the dream itself in the Dream Log.)
  3. Reread the Dream Enlargement. Notice the feelings and emotions that arise — those generated by the original experience and those generated by the rereading — and record them.

Dream Leads:

  1. Free associate with the dream and dream enlargement line by line and record the associations. (Progoff says to record each in the appropriate journal section, but I think it’s sufficient to put them all in one place to begin with, and in rereading you can find and record where each belongs or just follow up with the appropriate dialogue. Be sure to cross reference.)
  2. Reread the free-associated material. See what “speaks” to you. Where else in the journal does the dream suggest that you work?  Is there a person or event to dialogue with?
  3. Sit in silence for a while after rereading. Record your experiences and do any follow-up writing that feels appropriate.


Correlating your dream to your waking life:

You can do this instead of — as well as in addition to — the Dream Enlargement and the Dream Leads.

  1. Sit in silence. Feel the process of your life as it moves within you. Let it present itself.
  2. Draw yourself back to the dream or series of dreams. Feel the emotional tone and the movement and rhythm of the dream. These are more important than the details.
  3. Add to the dream the twilight dreaming. Draw dream and twilight dreams together and feel them as a single continuity.
  4. When the experience of the single continuity is full within you, hold it. Stop the movement.  Hold it as if you’re holding it in your hand.  Using this inner experience as a base, draw together the equivalent movement that has taken place on the outer level of your life as a whole.  This is sort of like introducing your dream life to the corresponding part of your waking life.

            With eyes closed go back over the sequences of your life.  Reflect on the Life Steppingstones, the rhythms of change, the flow and combination of circumstances that carried you into the recent period of your life.  Mainly try to feel the larger outline of the movement of your life.

  1. Let the movement of your life take on a symbolic image. Whatever form it takes, hold it in your right hand. Symbolically this is as though you are placing your waking life on the right side of your mind.
  2. Take the sleep dreams and twilight dreams into your left hand. These are the unified movement of your inner nonconscious life.
  3. Balance one against the other as though there is a scale within your mind. Let them equalize themselves.
  4. When they come to balance, ask what the two sides have to say to each other. And ask what they say to you when you set them side by side.
  5. As you do this, let yourself be especially open to additional images, feelings, thoughts, insights, recognitions, ideas, perceptions, emotions, new inspirations and plans that take shape in you.
  6. Record all of the above either in the Dream Enlargement section (or after the dream in the Dream Log as I do). Return to them later, after a few hours or a few days, and see what additional material is generated. There may be feedback leads to follow up in another section of the journal.


Intersections:  Roads Taken and Not Taken

In additions to exploring crossroads of the past, this section can also be used to explore issues that require us to make decisions now.  It’s a tool for making decisions as well as for opening new/old possibilities.  It helps us to tap into our inner knowing.

Outline of instructions for Intersections:  Roads Taken and Not taken:

  1. Reread your Steppingstone Period (or Life History Log). Steep yourself in the atmosphere of that time. Allow other, more specific memories to surface.  As they come to mind, list them briefly in the Life History Log.  At a later time you may go back and expand on these memories recording them in greater detail.
  2. As memories come to mind, some of them may be intersections where a decision or choice was made or forced by circumstances. List these memories in Intersections as well. Good preparation in the Life History Log is important for doing this.
  3. Of the intersections you’ve listed, choose one that you want to explore more fully.
  4. Examine and write about the course you actually took and its immediate consequences.
  5. List the various other possibilities that were reasonably feasible at the time. Do this briefly.
  6. Project intuitively and imaginatively the other varieties of possibilities — even those beyond our immediate vision of practicality or the apparently impractical. List these briefly.
  7. Through twilight imagery allow yourself to explore whatever possibilities come to you.
  8. Record your experiences.


Dialogue with Works

(This section of my notes is not complete.  It needs a definition of works.)

Outline of instructions for Dialogue with Works:

  1. Make a list of works from the life Steppingstones.
  2. Reread the list and amplify it with other works that come to mind.
  3. Make entries in other sections of the journal as appropriate.
  4. Choose a work to dialogue with, one that “speaks” to you or that has further possibility of development.
  5. Make a statement of the situation in which we find ourselves with respect to the work.
  6. Do steppingstones for the work. Sit in stillness. Let them present themselves.
  7. Set the atmosphere for the dialogue. In stillness allow the images to come and record them.
  8. Dialogue. In stillness and feeling the presence of the work, we speak to it. Record the dialogue.
  9. Record your feelings while writing the dialogue and your feelings afterward.
  10. Go back over the dialogue and read it silently. Don’t edit, but add further thought and feelings as an afterward.
  11. If the dialogue wishes to extend itself allow it to do so. This may occur several days later.





Period Log Meditation:

Sit in silence.  Eyes closed.  Relaxed.  Quietly, inwardly, feel the movement of your life.  Let yourself feel the implications of the question, “where am I now in my life?”  Don’t thinkFeel.  Thoughts will come to you.  Let them come, and let them go.  They will return to you as images.

There will come to you a generalized awareness of this recent period in your life.  Let the quality of the experience of this recent period express itself to you.  It may take the form of an image, a metaphor, a simile, or some spontaneous adjective that describes it in a word.  Let this happen without censorship — neither rejecting nor affirming.

There may be more than one image, and these “images” may be visual or auditory.  They may be physical sensations or emotions.  Whatever form they take, let them come.  Be aware of them.  Take note of them.  Let them come.


          Now focus more specifically on the contents of this recent period of your life.  When did this period start?  Is there a particular event that’s associated with it?

Reconstruct the outlines of this period recalling specific details as they come to you.  Memories.  Family.  Work.  Social activities.  Accidents or physical illnesses.  Arguments, angers, physical fights.  Friendships — loving, spiritual, or physical.  Significant dreams.  Inner experiences that were artistic, spiritual, or extrasensory in nature.  Strange, uncanny events or coincidences.  Good luck or misfortune.

When you are ready, come back to the room and write the outlines of this period simply and briefly.  Your first sentence will be:

“This time that I am living in began when…”


Period Image Meditation:

I am sitting in a place of quietness letting the Self become still, letting the breath become slow, letting my thoughts come to rest.

Letting the Self become still, energies that were moving about can go inward now, can come to rest in the stillness of my quiet being.

Breathing becomes quiet now, not breathing by the tempo of outer things, but by an inner tempo, breathing at an inner pace, the breath moving in and out of itself, carried by its own rhythm, adjusting itself to itself.

Breathing at an inner pace my thoughts let go of my breathing.  Breathing at an inner pace the breath is free to come and go in its own timing.  The breath is slow and regular, moving in and out by its inner tempo, carried by its own rhythm, adjusting itself to itself.

Breathing at an inner pace thoughts become quiet.  Restless thoughts that have been moving about, restless thoughts dissipating their energies can come to rest now, can bring their energies together into one place resting on the steady breathing.

Excess thoughts drop away.  I become still.  Thinking becomes quiet, thoughts fitting together and settling into one place by themselves without my thinking them.  Many mixed thoughts become one whole thought contained within itself.  One whole thought in the mind at rest.

Letting the Self become still, letting my thoughts come to rest, letting my breath become slow.  Breathing becomes quiet, breathing becomes slow, and slower; breathing becomes regular, regular.  The unevenness of nonessential thoughts drops out of the breathing.  It becomes the breathing of the Self.

Breathing at an inner pace the breath moves at the center of my Self — at the center of my Self in regular rhythms.  My body is quiet, holding its place.  The breath is moving evenly — inward, outward, evenly in its own rhythm.  The breath moves evenly at the center of my body, at the center of my Self.

The breath is moving at the center of my Self in a regular rhythm.  The breath moves at the center.  The breath moves at the center breathing at an inner pace.  As the breath moves at the center, quietly, evenly, the Self becomes still like quiet water.

The Self becomes still like quiet water.  In the stillness of the Self, in the quiet of the water my inward ear hears, my inward eye sees signs and words and visions reflected in the quiet waters in the stillness of the Self, in the Silence…  In the Silence.


Life Steppingstones Meditation:

Close your eyes and sit in silence.  In this stillness, let your breathing become slower, softer, more relaxed.  As you are quieted, you let yourself feel the movement of your life.  You do not think about any specific aspect of your life, but you let yourself feel the movement of your life as a whole.  In your silence you let the changing circumstances and situations of your life pass before the mind’s eye.  Now you may recognize the varied events in their movement, not judging them nor commenting on them, but merely observing them as they pass before you.  You perceive them and feel them in their generalized movement without actually seeing the details of them.

As you do this, it may be that the events of your life will present themselves to you as a flowing and continuous movement, as a river moving through many changes and phases.  Or it may be that your life will present itself to you as a kaleidoscope of disconnected events.  Whatever the form in which the continuity of your life reflects itself to you now, respond to it, observe it, and let the flow continue.

If images present themselves to you on the twilight level, take note of them.  They may come as memories or visual images or inner sensations of various kinds.  Especially they may state themselves as similes or metaphors in addition to expressing the literal facts of past experience.  Let your attitude be receptive enough that the continuity of your life as a whole can present itself.

Grief: Existential & Otherwise

2018-07-01 - For Post made on this date

Yesterday I participated in a Families Belong Together demonstration in Lancaster, California.  I did it for me!  I needed to connect with others, and I didn’t have the energy to make the trip to Los Angeles to participate in the larger one.  I was grateful to find a local demonstration.

There were maybe as many as 100 of us.  Most were middle aged or older.  I suppose the younger ones were either in Los Angeles for the larger demonstration or at work.  We were a subdued group — too subdued for the intent of this event — maybe because we are older or maybe because we are becoming exhausted with the ongoing drama of Trump’s administration and the consistent level of trauma it engenders.

I’m struggling.  I am at risk of being paralyzed by a grief that threatens to become clinical depression.  Brain fog has taken over again along with fatigue and low energy.  I have to force myself to do ordinary, everyday activities of living.  I have to remind myself that ‘joy’ is a discipline that can be practiced in the midst of suffering — my own and others.

I struggle with deciding where to focus my attention.  I am tempted to discount my own, very real grief because others have bigger troubles.  And yet, if I fail to have compassion for my own suffering, I risk losing compassion for others.  I need to find some balance here, and I’ struggling with that.  I am sure that I am not alone in feeling the way I do.

Much of my grief is personal.  Where once my solitary life was welcome, — or, at least, manageable — my aging body makes it more of a problem.  Solitude too often shifts into loneliness.  I grieve my own loneliness.  I cannot fault anyone but myself for this circumstance.

I’d hoped that participating in the Families Belong Together demonstration would help me find some balance.  It didn’t.  I’m still confused.  I had other city errands to complete after the demonstration ended.  The brain fog and sadness continued.

Today I’ve made an effort to return to a regular ‘practice.’  As part of that effort I did the qigong workout that I’d discontinued while I was working on the series of articles on the medial personality.  I wept during the first part of that workout.  I suppose I needed to do that.

I’m not sure how much of what I feel is my own and how much is a resonance with the suffering in the world around me.  There is a stillness in my body that I associate with deep grief.  I don’t know why I am alive.  I suppose I don’t need to know the ‘why’ of my life.  That I am still in a body is sufficient evidence that there is some purpose for me to fulfill.

Poustinia Journal: Colors


(Poustinia Journal, 11/24/2012)

I appreciate the vividness of the Colors of the Creation and the mystical, luminous White Light.  These are the colors of completion.bright-colors-hallway-914113 - CROPPED

I am fascinated by the Gray.  It is the chaos of metamorphosis and transformation; of the disintegration prerequisite for evolution; the yet unformed and forming that will eventually emerge into the vivid Colors of Creation.  Gray is the color of becoming.

I am seduced by the awesome mysteries of the Black.  I fear that in entering its depths, I may be lost forever.  However, it promises me “incomparable light” if I willingly go there — not just for myself, but for others.  Black is the Color of Mystery.

I accept the invitation.


This was written in response to the first chapter of Mary K Delirgio’s, Our Journey to the Sky Trafford Publishing, 2005.

MEDIAL PERSONALITY – Part 7: Resources

I am providing information about resources for those interested in learning more about the medial personality or topics related to it.  I have read or viewed most but not all of the material I’ve listed, and I’ve made comments about some of them.  This is hardly a complete list or resources.  I may add to it from time to time.  (In case you are wondering, I am not being paid for sharing any of this information.)

This concludes the series on the Medial Personality.  I won’t rule out the possibility of future articles related to the medial, but I have — at last and at least — completed the task assigned to me three and a half years ago.  


Aron, Elaine.  (1997)  The Highly Sensitive Person:  How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You.  New York: Broadway Books.

Aron also has a website:

Beattie, Melody.  (1987) Codependent No More.  Center City: Hazelden.

Blackstone, Judith.  (2012)  Belonging Here:  A Guide for the Spiritually Sensitive Person.  Boulder: Sounds True.

Blackstone also has a website:

Corson, Roberta Bassett.  (1998).  Wounds of the Medial Woman in Contemporary Western Culture.  Santa Barbara: Pacifica Graduate Institute.

This dissertation is the very best resource for information about the medial.  ProQuest offers it as a PDF document.  Price is $38.  The website is not easy to navigate, and it is helpful to have the publication number:  9912586. 

If you are serious about understanding this topic, Corson’s work is worth the investment!  For an academic paper, it is an easy read, but feel free to skip sections that don’t seem relevant.  You may want to begin with the five portraits of medial women in Chapter 3 before diving into the background material and the conclusions.  .  It is available at:

Curtan, Jim.  (Blog posts published 12/2016 – 11/2017)   Finding God In All

Curtan’s essays are inspiring, informational, and entertaining.  From his website:  “Jim Curtan is a motivational speaker, spiritual director, retreat leader.  He has taught extensively with New York Times best-selling author Caroline Myss and has been a faculty member of the Caroline Myss Educational Institute since its inception in 2003.  He has taught at the Omega Institute in Rhinebeck, New York, The London Centre for Spirituality, The Crossings in Austin, Texas and The Learning Annexes in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and San Diego.  He has lectured and led workshops throughout the United States, in Canada, Great Britain, the Netherlands and Indonesia.  He has led spiritual retreats and workshops for the Young Adult Ministry of the Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles, the Metropolitan Community Church of Los Angeles and the California Men’s Gathering.”

Dale, Cyndi.  (2009)  The Subtle Body:  An Encyclopedia of Your Energetic Anatomy.  Boulder: Sounds True.

Dale also writes self-help books.  I prefer her more scholarly works.  She also has a website:

de Castillejo, Irene Claremont.  (1973).  Knowing Woman: A Feminine Psychology.  New York: Harper & Row.

This book was my first introduction to the medial even though the medial is covered in only one chapter.  The rest of the book is just as valuable.  Please don’t be put off by the focus on women.  In today’s culture, it applies to any and all genders.

Delattre, Pierre.  (1971).  Tales of a Dalai Lama. Boston: Houghton Mifflin

This is a collection of short stories about a fictional, child dalai lama.  It includes the story, “Ten Conversations at Once” referenced in Medial Personality: Part 4 and Part 5. The book has been reprinted by other publishers and is still available.  You can also read it for free online.  Internet Archive makes it available as a 2-week loan.

Doherty, Catherine de Hueck. (1975) Poustinia: Christian Spirituality of the East for Western Man. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press.

This book saved my life!  I was on the verge of committing suicide when I read it.  It gave me a reason for living and provided the loose structure I needed to organize my life.  I still consider myself a poustinik even though I am no longer a practicing Catholic and my approach to the spiritual life has more in common with Taoism than with Christianity.  However, Christian values are deeply ingrained in me.

Dubois, Allison.  Allison DuBois interview with Oprah.  The real life person on which the show Medium was based.

The first season of Medium on DVD has among its special features a documentary about Dubois, her husband, and their children.  I was fascinated by how well the family has adjusted to their extraordinary gifts.  They appear to live pretty much ‘normal’ lives.  I could not find another source for that documentary.  This interview with Oprah is the closest I could get.

Eden, Donna.  (1998, 2008)  Energy Medicine:  Balancing Your Body’s Energies for Optimal Health, Joy and Vitality.  New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher.

Eden and her husband, David Feinstein, Ph.D., also give online classes.  YouTube has several videos of her demonstrations.  Her own story is fascinating.

Estes, Clarissa Pinkola.  (1995)  Women who run with the wolves:  Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype.  New York:  Ballantine Books.

There is much about the medial in this book even though it is rarely addressed specifically.  This is another book that applies to all genders even though its title suggests otherwise.  Estes also has a website:

Finley, James.  (1978)  Merton’s Palace of Nowhere:  A Search for God Through Awareness of the True Self.  Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press

I included this book as a way to identify the author.  It has been reprinted many times.  The 40th Anniversary Edition was published in February 2018.  I have not read this book.  However, I have been privileged to participate in one-day retreats presented by the author, and I’ve attended his meditations at St. Monica Parish.  Thomas Merton was Finley’s spiritual director when both were monks at the Abbey of Gethsemani.  Finley leads a group meditation on the first and third Thursdays of each month for his home parish in Santa Monica, California.  More information is on his website:

Ford, Michael.  (1999)  Wounded Prophet:  A Portrait of Henri J. M. Nouwen.  New York: Doubleday.

Internet Archive Nonprofit Library.

This Internet Archive is not an easy site to navigate, but it does provide a wealth of material — including some that are on this list.  I watch free movies there!

Merhige, Elias.  Remote Viewing lecture by Elias at the International Remote Viewing Association (IRVA)

I was intrigued by a documentary that was included as a special feature on a DVD of the movie, Suspect Zero.  Merhige had asked for a demonstration of remote viewing, and the ‘demonstration’ was his own directed experience of remote viewing.  I could not find that documentary online.  The closest I found was the video of this lecture.

Myss, Caroline.  (2001)  Sacred Contracts.  New York: Harmony Books.

Myss considers this her most important work.  However, it’s not my favorite.  Her works have had significant influence in my life.  In the beginning, they just sort of presented themselves to me when I most needed them.  My introduction to her was a video I found while browsing a thrift shop.  It was from one of her workshops, “Energetics of Healing.”  I liked her down-to-earth, no nonsense approach and her sense of humor.  Sacred Contracts showed up for me in another thrift store a few years later.  Several of her books have become best sellers.  These are available on her website along with many of her workshops.

Orloff, Judith.  (2017)  The Empath’s Survival Guide:  Life Strategies for Sensitive People.  Boulder: Sounds True.

This book focuses on helping empaths and highly sensitive people manage their sensitivities — especially the effects from others.  Orloff is an empath herself, and she teaches a course for professional health practitioners:  “Becoming an Intuitive Healer.”  Orloff is psychiatrist and a member of the psychiatric clinical faculty at UCLA.  She also has a website:

Progoff, Ira.  (1975). At a Journal Workshop:  The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal Process.  New York: Dialogue House Library.

The ‘Intensive Journal’ changed my life!  However, Progoff’s book is not the easiest way to learn the process.  His writing is stream-of-consciousness and sometimes circular so that figuring out the sequence of steps in the journal exercises is a challenge.  I spent many hours converting his circular language into linear steps.  It was worth the effort, but I wouldn’t have attempted it if I hadn’t already been introduced to the process through a workshop taught by a therapist who had studied with Progoff.  Sometimes I give informal classes using those linear steps.  However, formal workshops are available.  A schedule of official workshops is posted on the website:

Psychology Today:  “Are You a Highly Sensitive Person? Should You Change? A sensitive person’s brain is different: Research points to some advantages.”  Posted Jul 27, 2017:

Simon, Tami.  (2009)  Kundalini Rising:  Exploring the Energy of Awakening.  Boulder: Sounds True.

This book is a wonderful resource!  It is a collection of articles written by a variety of authors.  Some are ordinary people who have had extraordinary experiences.  Some are spiritual teachers (Lawrence Edwards, Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa, Sivananda Radha).  Some are transpersonal psychologists (Ken Wilber, David Lukoff, Bonnie Greenwell).  And some are scientific researchers (Andrew Newberg, John Selby, Bruce Greyson).  Simon is the founder of Sounds True. 

Sounds True Publishing

The Sounds True website has a wealth of publications — print, audio, and video — on spirituality, self-help, psychology, and probably other topics as well.  There is also a lot of free content.  In addition, many of their programs provide CEU’s for mental health professionals through R. Cassidy Seminars .


MEDIAL PERSONALITY – Part 6:  The Subtle Medial & the Borderline Personality

- Meme - I live in another dimension - 17760863_1500269446696862_8484280091939456806_o


Borderline personality disorder carries more stigma than any other  — especially among mental health professionals.  In graduate school we were taught to pay attention to our initial reactions to clients.  Immediately wanting to go out of your way to take care of a client or feeling unaccountably irritable, resentful, and rejecting were indications that we had a borderline client.

Most literature about borderline personality disorder (BPD) tends to blame the BPD client’s behavior, attitude, and emotional reactivity for causing these initial reactions in others.  However, ‘initial reactions’ occur long before behavior, attitude, and emotional reactivity can be demonstrated.

‘Initial reactions’ occur long before behavior, attitude, and emotional reactivity can be demonstrated.

Initial reactions are not about behavior.  This suggests that a BPD diagnosis based on the therapist’s initial, subjective experience is either:  1) an excuse for the therapist’s countertransference or; 2) there is something about the client’s ‘being’ or physical presence that causes the uncharacteristic reaction in the therapist.

If therapists — who are trained to cope calmly with extreme emotions — have exaggerated reactions to BPD clients, what happens to untrained, ordinary people?  And a more important question, one that is rarely if ever asked is:  What happens to someone who consistently experiences exaggerated reactions from others? 

What happens to someone who consistently experiences exaggerated reactions from others? 

Such people could easily:

  • Have stormy, conflictual relationships
  • Find it difficult to trust
  • Feel misunderstood
  • Experience the help given to them as not what they need
  • Feel isolated, alienated, and abandoned
  • Feel hopeless
  • Initially value someone who appears to understand them, and then reject the person when there is evidence that the understanding is an illusion
  • Fear intimacy as a precursor to rejection (and provoke the rejection to end the fear)
  • Feel intense shame and self-doubt
  • Have difficulty trusting their own judgment and making decisions
  • Develop physical illnesses
  • Become emotionally reactive, frustrated, and rageful
  • Act out to express the rage
  • Use manipulation to get what they want/need
  • Come to believe that there is something wrong with what they are rather than what they do.

The causes of BPD have usually been attributed to perceived wounds from early childhood that were experienced as abandonment and/or double bind messages from a parent/caregiver.  The wounds may have been the result of living in a dysfunctional family; the reaction to a major trauma; or long term physical and/or sexual abuse.

What if there is another cause?  At least for some with BPD.  What if there is the sort of physical component that I described in the section, Fish Scales & Hummingbird Wings (MEDIAL PERSONALITY – Part 5:  Metaphors & Strategies for a Subtle Medial)?  What if those with BPD and those with medial personalities have that same component?

What if there is something about the physical being of a person that from birth sets up some kind of interference in the perceptions or subjective experiences of others?  Others could be drawn to or rejecting of such a person based more on illusion than on reality.  This ‘something’ could be brain waves; aura; pheromones; oscillations in molecular and atomic structures that are out of sync with the world, or something else currently unknown to us.

Perhaps this ‘physical component’ causes the person to be like a mirror or a movie screen that reflects the projections of others — either positive or negative.  Others would treat the projections as if they are real and become frustrated, resentful, and rejecting when the person did not react in accordance with the projection.

There are examples of the reflection of illusion in nature.  The beauty of rainbow trout and hummingbird wings is due to the way the scales and the feathers influence light.  The feathers and scales are themselves colorless.  What if a person has similar properties reflecting something that is illusion rather than reality — or a truth about the observer rather than the observed?

There is precedent for a change in the attribution of a cause for a mental illness.  In earlier times, schizophrenia was attributed to overprotective mothering which led to the development of family therapy.  Since then, we have learned that schizophrenia is a biologically based mental illness with a genetic component.  The disorder may be triggered by stress — which may or may not have to do with parenting style.  A parent whose child shows symptoms of schizophrenia could reasonably be expected to be protective of that child.

Another mental health professional has used Jungian archetypes in regard to borderline personality disorder.  Lorena Williams, LCSW, addressed this in her workshop, “Of Vampires and Goddesses:  Archetypal Considerations in Borderline Personality Disorder.” 

At the workshop, Ms. Williams told of working with a clinic that specialized in treating clients with BPD.  She was feeling hopeless about treatment for BPD until she began questioning what was happening.  Her questioning led her to explore archetypes and symbolic language and to view BPD in terms of “the journey of the soul of the client” and “the accompanying journey of their practitioners.”  Ms. Williams used the archetypes of ‘vampires’ and ‘goddesses’ to explain the experiences of those diagnosed with BPD and the people involved in treating them. 

(Note:  The quotes attributed to Ms. Williams are from my own transcription of a DVD of her presentation.  One of the participants gave me the DVD because of my interest in alternative theories of borderline personality disorder.  I am responsible for any errors in transcription.)

According to Ms. Williams, the symbolic language of archetypes: 

“…moves us into the collective unconscious in that place where all things are known, and with that we enter the language of the soul.  That goes beyond personality.  It is an entrée to mysticism and the sacred.  And it is very much alive.”

Ms. Williams’ description of ‘vampires’ is very much like the ‘brownouts’ I wrote about in Medial Personality – Part 5.  She suggests that these clients draw forth the therapist’s own shadow so that the therapist experiences his or her own inner darkness — not just that of the client.  The therapist is unaware of this and is under a ‘spell.’

“Our (the therapists’) first spell is that we don’t have a shadow — or much of one.  And our second spell is that the patient is the problem — not me.  And it is only after we have rigorously done the work in spell breaking for ourselves that we are in a position to do spell breaking with these patients.”

She goes to talk about the BPD client’s spell:

“…And here is their spell.  Their spell is that fulfillment is found externally.” 

Then Ms. Williams goes into a lengthy discussion of ‘goddesses’ — especially the dark feminine.

“…The Dark Feminine, the Black Madonna, and Kali, these are goddess energies that speak to us of the very qualities that we are taught to repress and suppress.  These are the very aspects of ourselves that we push aside, hide, deny and bury.  Whatever; just get them out of the way!  Since they are bursting through our collective psyche, it’s time to get them out and parade them around.  And in taking a good look at them, what I have seen is that they are the constellation of qualities attributed to borderlines.

“…Now all of these dark goddesses are also goddesses of primordial gardens.  This is about the ultimate mystery.  This is about things that are forever knowable and that there’s something about going into the darkness that lets us see secrets of the soul that we just cannot see in the light.  It is said that if one of these goddesses is visiting you, that you are truly blessed.  And that when you are in the company of the divine feminine, she represents currents of living that we must have in order to thrive and continue as a species. 

So as such, these borderlines — as representatives of the dark feminine — are agents for our own refinement.  These patients are reflecting back to us the darkness of the collective that we refuse to acknowledge.  And I want to say that again.  These patients are reflecting back to us the darkness of the collective that we refuse to acknowledge.” 


These patients are reflecting back to us the darkness of the collective that we refuse to acknowledge.” 

- Meme - Dark Feminine - 18447169_1918375928385044_3451318042121416903_n

I agree with Ms. Williams that a spiritual approach to borderline personality disorder is necessary, and I agree with her assertion that the therapist’s own shadow contributes to the problems involved in treating BPD clients.  I suspect the success of Marsha Linehan’s dialectical behavior therapy is due as much to its spiritual practice of mindfulness as to any of the other interventions involved.  Dialectical behavior therapy has become the standard of treatment for borderline personality disorder.

Many years ago I qualified for the diagnostic label of borderline personality disorder.  I have been careful not to disclose that until now.  The label has such a powerful stigma! When I’ve told others that the label had once applied to me, I’ve seen a veil of suspicion cover their faces while mental wheels reinterpreted every experience they ever had with me.  They no longer trusted their experiences, and I was discredited.

I prefer the medial archetype and the medial personality as explanations for my experiences in life.  I consider the medial archetype as a meta-archetype that incorporates all the other archetypes that are associated with nonordinary reality.  ‘Vampires’ and ‘goddesses’ fit well within the umbrella of the medial archetype.

The medial archetype:  A meta-archetype that incorporates all the other archetypes that are associated with nonordinary reality. 

‘Vampires’ and ‘goddesses’ fit well within the umbrella of the medial archetype.



Beattie, Melody.  (1987) Codependent No More.  Center City:  Hazelden

Corson, Roberta Bassett.  (1998).  Wounds of the Medial Woman in Contemporary Western Culture.  Santa Barbara:  Pacifica Graduate Institute

de Castillejo, Irene Claremont.  (1973).  Knowing Woman: A Feminine Psychology.  New York: Harper & Row.

Progoff, Ira.  (1975).  At a Journal Workshop:  The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal Process.  New York:  Dialogue House Library.

Williams, Lorena. (July 30 – August 3. 2007)  Of Vampires and Goddesses:  Archetypal Considerations in Borderline Personality Disorder.  Creativity & Madness Workshop, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

MEDIAL PERSONALITY – Part 5:  Metaphors & Strategies for a Subtle Medial

Mirrors & Projection Screens; Fish Scales & Hummingbird Wings; Power Surges & Brownouts; Automatic Faucetsthese are metaphors I’ve used to explain my own experiences as a subtle medial. 


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Mirrors & Projection Screens

When we look at a mirror we see a reflection.  We don’t ‘see’ the mirror.  When I think of a mirror, I usually associate it with my own reflection and checking on my appearance.  But looking into a mirror could just as easily show a reflection of someone or something else.  It depends on where one is standing in relation to the mirror — one’s perspective.  The rear-view mirrors in our cars show us what is behind us while we are driving — both in space and time. 

In our everyday lives we are often ‘mirrors’ for each other.  Our interactions reflect our perceptions of each other.  We generally trust that what we ‘see’ is ‘real’, and we adjust our behavior accordingly.

But what happens if the mirror gives distorted reflections or sometimes operates like a two-way mirror and sometimes becomes a window?  What if what is ‘seen’ is not a true reflection of the other?  What if the mirror becomes a projection screen?

In recent years I’ve described myself as a mirror that is more ‘reflective’ than most — a mirror so reflective that it is almost impossible to ‘see’.  Most of the time this is not a problem.  When I am centered; when I am grounded in my own identity; when I feel the support of Inner Resources, I am able to be authentically myself regardless of how others ‘see’ me.  Like Delattre’s Great Hum, I can usually manage to “wear the mask the world places upon” me. 

“…Assume any mask the world places upon you and wear it with ease. Only then will your own divine countenance shine through…”

I long ago stopped trying to explain myself to others.  It’s more important that others know who they are.  Sometimes I return a mask to the person who ‘placed’ it on me.  I do this when it feels as if the person has given away too much their power to me.  I try to be gentle in my refusal.  I want them to feel empowered not rejected.

Not being ‘seen’ only becomes a problem for me when I am in the role of one being helped.  Casual interactions with store clerks are usually uneventful.  It becomes more troublesome when I need help with home repairs or car problems.  The real difficulty is when I — the real person — need help. 

When I really need help, my helper is rarely able to see me well enough to give me what I need.  The help offered goes to a reflection.  I thank my helper for his effort and explain that it’s not what I need.  I ask again making my request clearer and more specific — at least from my point of view.  My helper tries again from a different perspective but still doesn’t see me, and again the help goes to a reflection.  The cycle repeats until my helper becomes frustrated and gives up:  “I’ve done everything I can for you and it’s not enough!”  Both of us are wounded by the experience. 

Most of the time this kind of mismatch doesn’t progress to the point of frustration.  I don’t let it get that far.  I have learned to accept the caring intent of the help that goes to the reflection.  When I am spiritually and emotionally needy, I go inward and receive what I need from Inner Resources.  I can reach out afterward for validation from flesh and blood humans, and that is extremely valuable. 

As I grow older and my body progresses in the slow decline of aging, being ‘seen’ becomes more of an issue.  Eventually I will need to rely on others for what I can no longer do for myself.  I am concerned about the quality of the medical treatment that will be offered to me, and I am concerned about becoming so much of a burden for my caregivers that they feel intense resentment toward me.

Fish Scales & Hummingbird Wings

I haven’t always interpreted the misperceptions from others in terms of Jungian concepts.  More than fifteen years ago, I wrote about a ‘physical component’. 

What if there is something about the physical being of a person that from birth sets up some kind of interference in the perceptions or subjective experiences of others?  Others could be drawn to or rejecting of such a person based more on illusion than on reality.  This ‘something’ could be brain waves; aura; pheromones; oscillations in molecular and atomic structures that are out of sync with the world, or something else currently unknown to us.

Perhaps this ‘physical component’; causes the person to be like a mirror or a movie screen that reflects the projections of others — either positive or negative.  Others would treat the projections as if they are real and become frustrated, resentful, and rejecting when the person does not react in accordance with the projection.

There are examples of the reflection of illusion in nature.  The beauty of rainbow trout and hummingbird wings is due to the way the scales and the feathers influence light.  The feathers and scales are themselves colorless.  What if a person has similar properties reflecting something that is illusion rather than reality — or a truth about the observer rather than the observed?

The beauty of rainbow trout and hummingbird wings is due to the way the scales and the feathers influence light.  The feathers and scales are themselves colorless. 

Embed from Getty Images


This theory of a physical component does not contradict the Jungian concept of the medial personality.  Both could be different approaches to understanding the same thing.

Brownouts & Power Surges

These same differences of physical constitution and/or medial personality may be responsible for other problems in relationships.  I have found that the quality of my presence influences how others perceive me and how they react to me — especially when I am experiencing intense emotions. 

Maybe I operate on a different type of subtle energy system.  We are all aware of what happens with electricity in our homes.  Some electrical appliances draw more current than others.  Household lights dim when those are turned on.  Overloaded circuits blow fuses and trip breakers.  On the rare occasions when too much electricity flows through power lines, lights initially become brighter and then burn out — along with our computers — unless we have them plugged into surge protectors.  What if some of us have subtle energy systems that affect others in this way? 

Brownouts:  I have noticed that if I go to someone for help when I am emotionally and/or spiritually needy, I draw from that person more than he or she is prepared to give — even if I am careful about personal and professional boundaries and clear in my communications.  This is what I call a brownout’, aka, ‘burnout’.

Power Surges:  Something similar happens when I am euphoric.  My euphoria is contagious and infects the other causing him or her to react in uncharacteristic ways:  making exaggerated compliments; disclosing too much personal information; blurring boundaries; offering intimacy.  When the influence of my euphoria wears off, the other experiences embarrassment and regret.  I call this a ‘power surge.’ 

Automatic Faucets

All of us at one time or another have had the experience of another’s need drawing a response from us when we didn’t feel that we had anything to give.  Well, maybe we didn’t.  The other’s need drew a response through us the way putting hands beneath an automatic faucet draws forth water.  Subtle medials have an enhanced ability to perform this function.  Others draw through us what they need — even to the extent that our personalities may change in response to that need. 

None of us are tempted to glamorize the function of the automatic faucets we find in public restrooms, but it is not the same when people function that way.  Rather than recognizing the human automatic faucet as just an instrument, we tend to attribute the help received to the human being.  We focus our gratitude, admiration and respect on an instrument and not on its Source.  

When those of us who operate as human automatic faucets are unaware of our function, our egos will accept all of this as our due.  We own what flows through us as our identity rather than our function.  When no one activates the flow, we feel empty — because we are. 

The traditional label for finding one’s identity and validation in helping others is ‘codependence.’  The concept grew out of addiction treatment.  Beginning with Alcoholics Anonymous the term applied to those who ‘enabled’ the alcoholic’s addiction.  Eventually the term was applied to those who sought validation in helping others because their dysfunctional family system did not provide this for them when they were children.

I suspect there are different types of codependence.  Sometimes codependent behavior is caused by growing up in a dysfunctional family — with or without addiction as a contributing factor.  Sometimes it is due to the value a culture places on care giving — especially for women.  Sometimes it is the inherent function of a subtle medial personality.  And sometimes it is from some combination of these sources.

It is important for subtle medials to understand that we have identities separate from and more than what flows through us in response to others’ needs, expectations, and projections.  Otherwise we become possessed by the medial archetype and lose ourselves to our medial functions.

Subtle medials have identities separate from and more than what flows through us in response to others’ needs, expectations, and projections. 

Strategies for Managing My Own Medial Nature

Those of us with subtle medial personalities have a different way of ‘being.’  We need to understand this well enough to function in the world around us.  While medials are defined by the traits we have in common, we are sufficiently different from each other that we each need to develop our own ways of functioning in the world. 

What follows is a strategy I developed for myself.  Again I advise you to listen for the echo of your own lives in what I’ve written.”

Clare’s Strategy for Dealing with the External World of the Consensual Reality

1. I accept that what I am affects my relationships with others as much as — if nor more than — what I do.

2. I assume responsibility in relationships.  I accept that others will not ‘see’ me, and I make an effort to respond to misperceptions with tact and compassion.  I am careful to establish and maintain clear boundaries.  I set limits on other’s efforts to help me because they may not know when they have reached theirs.

3. I work at compensating for my effect on others.  I attempt to use good communication skills and to evaluate what is appropriate behavior for various situations.

4. The misperceptions I attract cause difficulties in conflict resolution.  To compensate, I try to contain my emotional reactions.  If possible, I leave a volatile situation to calm and to evaluate what happened.  I may write about it in a letter to the person before discussing it with them.  This gives the other time to reflect before responding.  It also removes the influence of my physical presence.  Sometimes I just write the letter to process what happened and never deliver it.  If I feel that more is needed, I will follow the letter — delivered or not — with a face-to-face discussion.  I may invite a neutral witness to assist with this.

5. Because I, too, misperceive others, I need to do reality checks with people whose judgment I can trust.

6. I need frequent time alone without outside influences to be myself and think my own thoughts.

7. I attend to my inner life and rely on Inner Sources for support and guidance. When I experience intense emotions, I go there for help. I wait until the intensity has dissipated before reaching out for validation from flesh and blood humans.

Clare’s Strategy or Dealing with the Inner World of the Other Consciousness

1. I practice maintaining a moment-to-moment awareness of this inner world.  I pay attention to thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations.  I have inner conversations with the concepts that have become my companions and guides.

2. I evaluate those inner experiences using both intellect and intuition to discern if, when, and how to translate those to the external world.  I’ve learned that I need to question whether the intense emotions I feel are mine or some else’s or both. When it’s ‘both,’ separating mine from another’s is more difficult.  I also question impulses to action.  Is this genuine intuitional guidance or some totally personal response?  How could my actions affect others?  Would they be harmed if I acted on the impulse?  Can I cope with the consequences if things don’t go well? 

3. I manage boundaries in the inner world.  I ask for guidance within and from that place. How do I help this person or this situation?  Is it necessary that I take action in the external world?  Do I reach out from my interior place to theirs?  Do I boundary myself in my own depths and ‘hold space’ for the other in doing so?  Most often I’m directed to boundary myself.  My boundaried presence there facilitates others’ access to the depths within themselves.  Reaching out from my space to theirs could interfere with their process.

4. I pay attention to my body.  My body is an instrument for discernment.  Are muscles relaxed or tense?  Butterflies in my stomach?  Tightness in my throat?  Dryness in my mouth?  Tunneled vision or panoramic view?  Sometimes my body signals a shift in my state of consciousness.  I may feel subtle energy flowing through me.  My body may convulse around my abdomen.  This often occurs when I’m directed to ‘go deep’ or told to ‘loosen the connections.’  ‘Going deep’ is entering my own depths and being boundaried there.  ‘Loosening the connections’ is making my inner boundaries permeable so that material from the depths flows through me.  I experience ‘going deep’ and ‘loosening the connections’ as slightly differing states of inner consciousness that I also feel in my physical body.

5. I continue to learn from and about this inner world and how I operate there.



Corson, Roberta Bassett. (1998). Wounds of the Medial Woman in Contemporary Western Culture. Santa Barbara: Pacifica Graduate Institute

de Castillejo, Irene Claremont. (1973). Knowing Woman: A Feminine Psychology. New York: Harper & Row.

Delattre, Pierre. (1971). Tales of a Dalai Lama. Boston: Houghton Mifflin

Progoff, Ira. (1975). At a Journal Workshop: The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal Process. New York: Dialogue House Library.

A Conversation with Suicide


This post is in response to news stories about suicide.  The following quote is from an article posted by Medscape, June 7, 2018.  (The article, U.S.  Suicides Increasing at ‘Alarming Rate,’ Says CDC, was written by Deborah Brauser.)  

“Suicide rates continue to rise dramatically for adults in the United States, according to a report by the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) released today.

Between 1999 and 2016, the time of the latest estimates, half of the states saw at least a 30% increase in suicide rates. And all states except Nevada increased by at least 6%. Overall, there were almost 45,000 total deaths by suicide in 2016 alone.

“And, unfortunately, our data show that the problem is getting worse,” Anne Schuchat, MD, principal deputy director of the CDC, said at a press briefing.

Suicide rates from 1999 to 2016 increased in all age groups younger that 75 years, with the greatest increase shown in “middle-aged adults” aged 45 to 64 years.  (Link to article,

Various news sources reported on the suicide of fashion designer, Kate Spade, earlier this week.  On Tuesday, June 5, 2018, Ms. Spade was found dead in her Manhattan apartment.  Her death was ruled a suicide by hanging.  She was age 55.

I know several people who have lost family members to suicide.  Each of them had some understanding of the difficulties that drove their loved ones to end their lives.  Even so death by suicide wounded them more than death by some other cause.  Second-guessing about what they should have done or not done intensified their grief. This is different from the suicides of those facing terminal illnesses and choosing to die with dignity.

When life is difficult, anticipation of a long, restful sleep makes death seductive.  I have felt the pull of that seduction nearly every day of my life.  I made three serious suicide attempts.  The first was at age 12; the last was at age 23 — almost 50 years ago.  I have vowed not to end my life with suicide.  I’m an old woman, and I’m no longer anyone’s priority.  My death by natural causes would cause only momentary sadness in those who know me.  My suicide, however, would wound many.  I choose not to do that.

Many years ago, I explored the concept of suicide using the Intensive Journal.  It turned out to be a valuable experience.  I’m sharing the results of that exploration in story form.


A Conversation with Suicide

(This story is a revision of entries in my Poustinia Journal for July 1988.)

Once upon a time, I asked Suicide to talk with me.  Suicide had long been a seductive presence in my life, and I wanted to confront this.  The conversation did not go as I expected.  Mr. Suicide introduced himself with words before he showed himself as an image.  Here is his introduction:

Mr. Suicide Introduces Himself

I began with your distant ancestors.

I was passed on to you by your grandparents and parents.

I had my beginnings for you in the accident of your conception.

I grew in each rejection you experienced no matter how subtle.

I grew also in each of your successes and the jealousies and rejections they caused.

I grew in your confusion about life and its meaning or lack of it.

I grew in your misbelief that you were ‘different’ and a ‘misfit.’

I was the attempt to make real the illusion that you should never have been.

I was to have been done in secret, sparing others’ feelings as much as possible.

I was an attempt to undo the wrong of your existence.

Frustration:  I was the solution of ‘last resort.’

I am a lie.

I have always failed.



Ghost of Christmas Future - enlargedAt first Suicide was only a presence:  cool, silent, empty, seductive.  This was death with control — the ultimate control of life.  When Suicide eventually materialized, it appeared as the Ghost of Christmas Future from the Alistair Sims’ version of A Christmas Carol.

Suicide sat in an overstuffed armchair across from mine. We were in a living room where the lights had been dimmed so that we were only visible to each other.  The rest of the room was in shadow.

I began, “Suicide, I want to speak with you.”

The response was a sibilant, “Yeeesss?”

Slightly exasperated and trying not to let it show, I continued, “You’ve been a part of my life on several occasions.  Actually, in a mild form you are always present.  The depression is a nonlethal form of self-murder — like living in a coma.  Not quite as final as physical death, but often as effective.  You’ve whispered your seductions like a siren.  You’ve spoken aloud only seldom.  Will you speak with me out loud — now?”

Continuing with the sibilant whisper, the speech slow and languid, “If I must.  I’m quiet by nature.  What would you have me say?  What can I tell you that you do not already know about me?”

I went on, “I only want you to come out of hiding, to reveal yourself as something more solid so that I can understand you better, and therefore understand part of my life.  Who are you?”

Suicide answered, “I’m the ultimate in control over your life.  I am the final solution.  A solution of last resort.”  

“I’m the ultimate in control over your life.  I am the final solution.  A solution of last resort.”  

At this point the conversation was interrupted.

When we met again several hours later, I felt a lot of resistance in my body:  convulsive movements around my abdomen, head arching back, mouth opening to form a silent scream.  Then Suicide appeared as a robed and hooded figure, a dark shadow instead of a face.  Only hands were showing, no indication of male or female, the voice a sibilant whisper.  We were again sitting in armchairs in the darkened living room.

I began, “Suicide, I want to try talking with you again.  I seem to have more things to say to you about you than questions to ask.  I’m afraid this will become a monologue, and I really want you to speak, too.  Why have you been such a large part of my life?  You’ve been seductive and compelling at times.  Most often you’ve been a constantly repeated litany or mantra of ‘I want to die’.

Suicide began in the familiar sibilant voice which almost imperceptibly shifted to normal, masculine speech.  (He had become ‘Mr. Suicide.’)  “I’m your way of gaining control over your life when all else has failed.  When you can do nothing more, you can always choose to die.  But if you’re successful, it’s a choice you can make only once.  I can be a final triumph of control.  Remember how pleased you were when you finally dived from that runaway horse so you’d have an excuse to freeze to death.  ‘I did it!  I did it!’ you said.”

I responded, “Yes, I remember.  But I didn’t die.  Twenty degree temperature was too warm to freeze to death quickly enough.  I was afraid I’d only be crippled.  I wanted to be either wholly alive or wholly dead — nothing in between.  But I remember chuckling to myself when the doctor said my skull might be cracked.  Thinking maybe I’d succeeded after all, and hoping I had.”

Mr. Suicide replied, “But you’ve always failed, you know.  I don’t think you’ve really wanted me.  You’ve only wanted to stop hurting and to take control of your life by choosing when and how to die.  It really wasn’t much of a choice, you know.  Death was as much of an unknown to you as were the solutions to your problems.  It’s an unknown that you are required to experience.  It’s the unknown involved in resolving your problems that’s a real choice.  There are lots more alternatives there even though it may not feel like it.  There are always options.  But you may need help to see them.

“You’ve only wanted to stop hurting and to take control of your life by choosing when and how to die.”

“…Death was as much of an unknown to you as were the solutions to your problems.  It’s an unknown that you are required to experience.”

“…It’s the unknown involved in resolving your problems that’s a real choice.”

I agreed, “You’re right, of course.  I know what you’re saying is true.  It’s the pain and frustration I feel that makes death attractive.  I get so tired of fighting.  Sometimes I’m absolutely exhausted and want so much just to rest, to be free from the struggle.”

“There are times when you should rest,” Mr. Suicide advised.  “But you should not try to find it through me.  Rest in God instead.  Give Him your struggles for a while.  Rest in other people if they are available.  Know that the final rest will come eventually.  It’s not in death, but through it.  New life is on the other side.”

“There are times when you should rest, but you should not try to find it through me.

Rest in God instead.  Give Him your struggles for a while.  Rest in other people if they are available.”

Know that the final rest will come eventually. 

It’s not in death, but through it. 

New life is on the other side.”

I’m surprised at what I’m hearing, “Why are you being so pro life?  I expected you to seduce me to use you.”

Mr. Suicide explained, “I am in the image of the Ghost of Christmas Future because like it, I am a prophet and a signpost of things that can be changed.  It is only your ego, your small self that makes me appear seductive.  It is what longs for control.  I represent your true Self — what you can become.  If you must explore the unknown, examine the unknowns of your life.  You will experience the unknown of death all too soon as it is.”

I am in the image of the Ghost of Christmas Future because like it, I am a prophet and a signpost of things that can be changed. 

…I represent your true Self — what you can become.  If you must explore the unknown, examine the unknowns of your life.  You will experience the unknown of death all too soon as it is.”

Somewhat in awe at this I reply, “Thank you for your advice.  Perhaps we’ll talk again another time.”


Five days later we spoke again.  Mr. Suicide was again a robed and hooded figure, a dark shadow instead of a face with only his hands showing.  Once again we were in the darkened living room.

I began, “Mr. Suicide, I have another question to ask you.”

“Yeeesss?” the usual sibilant whisper.

“Please don’t whisper at me!” I demand crossly.  “I need you to speak out loud again!”

He responds in a calm, normal voice, “Well, all right.  What do you want to know?”

I’m indignant with his behavior, “I think that you’re a ham and that you enjoy high drama!  But that’s not what I had in mind to talk about.”

Slouching in his armchair with one leg hooked over the armrest, an obvious overreaction to my comment about high drama, but still hamming it up, “Okay.  Shoot.”

Still exasperated, I exclaim, “From one extreme to the other!  Will you please just be real!  You gave me good answers the last time we talked and a lot of positive advice.  That’s what I want of you now, too.  Will you help me?”

Mr. Suicide now sitting straight but relaxed in the chair, “Yes, of course I will.  But you were being a bit heavy yourself, you know.  Your mood needed to be lightened.  Don’t you feel a bit lighter now?”

Smiling in response, “You’re right.  I do feel better.  I’ve been depressed about being depressed.  I want to feel better all the time, or at least enough of the time that I can trust myself to complete the projects I start.  You’re quite a character, you know.  Despite your morbid name and your ominous appearance, you’re a pretty good person to talk to.”

Lightly and with a touch of humor, he replies, “Well, thanks for the compliment.  What do you have on your mind?”

Turning serious I say, “I’ve been wondering about sleep.  Is the way I use sleep a form of suicide?”

Mr. Suicide answers, “Yes and no.  Sometimes it’s been a safe substitute for me.  At other times, it’s been for the genuinely needed rest from the struggles that you spoke of last time we talked.  It can also be a way of solving problems.  You dream a lot and sometimes you find answers there.  More often your dreams prod you with questions and indications of problems to work on while you are awake.”

I ask a related question, “Should I try not to sleep so much?”

Mr. Suicide answers, “Right now I wouldn’t worry about that.  You’re fighting hard to grow, and you do need a lot of rest.  But there should be a balance between rest and exercise.  You’re not really getting enough of either.  More exercise would improve the quality of your rest.”

It’s not the answer I want so I complain, “But it’s so hot I don’t feel like doing anything!”

Mr. Suicide doesn’t relent, “Try to get some exercise anyway.  Go for a walk at sunset.  It’s cooler then.  I know how you hate to get up in the morning.”

I give in, “I don’t really want to, but I’ll try.  Thanks.”

He responds with a casual, “Anytime.”

The formal, written conversations with Mr. Suicide ended here.  But we still talk!  Mr. Suicide has become one of my most trusted companions and inner guides. 

Eventually I understood that Mr. Suicide was more about Self-Preservation than Death.  However, I’d gotten so used to his name as ‘Mr. Suicide’ that I still address him that way.



MEDIAL PERSONALITY – Part 4: Narrowing the Focus – The Subtle Medial’s Effects on Others


“Life insists on being lived, and anything that belongs to one’s life which is allowed to lie dormant has to be lived by someone else.” 

The above quote is from Knowing Woman by Irene Claremont de Castillejo.

My lack of academic education and clinical experience in Jungian psychology suggests that I am a “someone else” living out what others have “allowed to lie dormant”.  Most of what has been written about the medial personality is in the form of academic papers hidden away in the libraries of Jungian institutions.  It shouldn’t be.  The world has need of it.  My writing is a poor substitute for that expertise.  Yet it is “the little I can do”, and I would regret not doing it.

I have been tormented by this project for the last three and a half years.  I feel intense pressure to complete it.  Perhaps I can manage that it just one more article.  I want to be done with this!  It has been an extraordinarily painful process. 

Because my only expertise is my own life, I am continuing to use material from my journal and from personal correspondence revised for clarity and confidentiality.  And I will continue to reiterate what I wrote in the first article of this series:

“Listen for the echo of your own lives in what I’ve written. That is what is most important! Each of us knows more than we realize. Our ‘knowing’ is not something anyone can teach us. It is something we already have; it is ours to discover or rediscover.”


Rationale for Narrowing the Focus

By our very nature those of us with medial personalities make available to others material from the collective unconscious.  We need to know about this function.  We need to know that we are doing this.  Then we need to understand as much as possible how it is happening and how it is affecting others.  Otherwise we may cause unintentional wounding.  We will hurt people because of who we are.  And we will be wounded in turn by their reactions to us.

There are schools for vivid medials — those with obvious gifts who would qualify for training as psychics and mediums.  Shamanism addresses walking between worlds and has its own traditions of training and initiation.  Managing how these gifts affect others would be covered in such training.

Self-help books for ‘empaths’ and ‘highly sensitive people’ come the closest to addressing issues faced by subtle medials.  However, these are usually written from the perspective of traditional mental health practices, and they focus on managing the effects from others.  Little is written about managing the effects on others.

I suspect that many — if not most — subtle medials have little difficulty in learning to manage the transmission of material from the collective unconscious.  It is experienced as a gift that is beneficial for themselves and for the people around them.  Learning to manage this medial function may have come so easily, that they were hardly aware of having done so at all.

I’m not one of those.  Throughout my life, my medial nature has caused many difficulties for me and for those around me.  It has taken a lifetime to understand this.  Along the way I sought help from therapists and from spiritual directors.  I learned what I could from each of them, but they usually fell victim to unintentional wounding caused by my medial nature.  And I was wounded in turn by their reactions to me.

It has taken most of my life — I’m 72 — for me to become healthy enough to realize that if I go to someone for help when I am emotionally and/or spiritually needy, I draw from that person more than he or she is prepared to give — even if I am careful about personal and professional boundaries and clear in my communications.  I no longer put others at that risk.  Inner sources provide for my immediate needs, and I can reach out for human support afterward.

In the 1970’s Catherine Doherty’s book, Poustinia, gave my life sufficient meaning and purpose for me to continue living, and it provided the loose structure I needed to organize my life.  The following decade, Irene Claremont de Castillejo’s book, Knowing Woman, helped me understand much of what I was going through, and Ira Progoff’s Intensive Journal gave me a way to confront and learn about my medial qualities.  And of course, I’m still learning.  But there is a completeness to my life now and more wholeness than I ever imagined possible.



- - - - The more things change - meme

From ‘Psychic Typhoid Mary’ to ‘The Great Hum:

I’ve been through a lot of therapy!  Much of my work there has been about overcoming shame.  In my earlier years, I labeled myself a ‘Psychic Typhoid Mary’.  I was a carrier of something that hurt others even though it was never my intention.  I didn’t know what it was, but I felt intense shame because of it.  Therapists taught me that my shame was based on a false idea that influenced my behavior, and therefore, it was my behavior and not my ‘being’ that caused the difficulties in relationships.

I did a lot of intensive work on healing shame and changing my behavior, but it didn’t help all that much.  Learning about ‘undifferentiated’ medials gave me another way to approach the problem.  Below is an entry from my Poustinia Journal for June 1989.

My image of myself as undifferentiated medial:  It’s as if I were wearing all sorts of little windows and mirrors all over me and not knowing they were there. The various perspectives of the people around me would cause them to see many different things. Each person would be seeing lots of windows and mirrors, but not everyone would see the same things.  The multiple images would cause a variety of unpleasant symptoms — burning eyes, headaches, nausea, and confusion.  Few would be able to look past the visual barrage and see me.  I would either be invisible to them or associated with the unpleasantness of the assault on the senses.

I’ve known that people were uncomfortable around me and tried to change everything about myself — except my clothes.  I brushed my teeth and used mouthwash, showered and used underarm deodorant.  I worked at improving my manners and conversational skills.  None of these things helped.

What I needed to do was to cover and label each little window and mirror.  Then people would have been able to see me.  And if they wanted to look at a mirror or through a window, they could choose where to look and could lift one cover at a time and really be able to see something and make use of it.

I have never managed to “cover and label each little window and mirror”, but I have developed strategies for managing others’ reactions.  That is a subject for another time.

A few years ago a wonderful story by Pierre Delattre gave me a more helpful image — one that taught me to accept the reactions of others with compassion.  The title of the story is Ten Conversations at Once, and it tells of a young (fictional) Dalai Lama who seeks help from a more advanced lama who can carry on ten simultaneous conversations.  The simultaneous conversations sound like humming, and so that lama is nicknamed the ‘Great Hum’.

In the story, the young Dalai Lama was troubled by others’ reactions to his appearance rather than his reality.  He sought advice from the Great Hum who responded in part:

“Once you’re free from bondage to your face, you’ll be able to take on as many faces as you like — not just two or three but a thousand. The more faces you assume, the more your expressions will remain the same. Eventually, when you try to resemble me, as you are doing now, you will find that I have come to resemble you instead. But you have much to learn before then. You are faced with contradictory feelings about your role and will remain so until you can assume any mask the world places upon you and wear it with ease. Only then will your own divine countenance shine through…”

Since then I’ve aspired to be more like the Great Hum and to accept with compassion misperceptions and projections from others — while also working to acknowledge my own failings in perception and the projections of my own shadow.  It is always a work in progress.

- - - - Assume any mask -Delattre meme



Corson, Roberta Bassett. (1998). Wounds of the Medial Woman in Contemporary Western Culture. Santa Barbara: Pacifica Graduate Institute

de Castillejo, Irene Claremont. (1973). Knowing Woman: A Feminine Psychology. New York: Harper & Row.

Delattre, Pierre. (1971). Tales of a Dalai Lama. Boston: Houghton Mifflin

Doherty, Catherine de Hueck. (1975) Poustinia: Christian Spirituality of the East for Western Man. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press.

Progoff, Ira. (1975). At a Journal Workshop: The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal Process. New York: Dialogue House Library.

MEDIAL PERSONALITY – Part 3: Living in Two Worlds


Publishing this series on the medial personality is difficult for me.  I am not an expert on anything except my own life and even there I’m still learning.  My anticipation of others’ reactions threatens to derail the project.  I am tempted to write for potential critics when I’m not on the verge of giving up altogether.

Concepts about the medial are complex and explaining them requires personal disclosure.  It’s not easy to find the right balance of telling enough about myself to illustrate the concepts without making myself the focus.  To counter that, I’m using material from my journal and from personal correspondence — revised only for clarity and for confidentiality.  That writing is as unself-conscious and as honest as I get!

I want to reiterate something I wrote in the first article of this series:

“Listen for the echo of your own lives in what I’ve written.  That is what is most important!  Each of us knows more than we realize.  Our ‘knowing; is not something anyone can teach us.  It is something we already have; It is ours to discover or rediscover.”

Living in Two Worlds

- - - - unicorn meme - cropped

While I can smile at the humor of this unicorn meme, it actually rings true for me.  Events in the everyday world are disorienting.  It is only in the depths of my inner world — a world where unicorns may be found — that I feel validated.

I was born living in two worlds.  I think all of us are.  As children we lived in the inner world of our imaginations as much as we did external reality of everyday consciousness.  As we grew toward adulthood, this changed.  The world of our imaginations was almost imperceptibly replaced by the consensual reality of everyday life.  Some of us never stopped living in two worlds.  It took many of us a long time to recognize this and some of us never will.  It took me decades! 

NOTE:  I need to explain the words I use.  Elsewhere I’ve written that the medial was born living in two worlds:  “the outward world that is considered ‘reality’ by consensus and an inner world of the collective unconscious.”  I interpret Jung’s term, ‘collective unconscious’ as an umbrella for other concepts that I associate with that realm:  creativity, imagination, dreams, daydreams, fantasy, insights, intuitions, gut feelings, mystical experiences, altered states of consciousness, nonordinary experiences, etc.  And so, I could also say that all of us were born living in the inner world of the collective unconscious and the outer world of the consensual reality.

I feel the unreality of ‘reality’.  With a foot in each world, I can’t maintain my balance for very long.  I fall to one side or the other.  When I spend too much time in the consensual reality, I begin to believe in the separations that define it.  Then I suffer.  In the past I feared that complete immersion in the inner world would risk insanity.  I don’t anymore.

I’m not sure when I began feeling drawn to this inner world.  It had an eerie, seductive quality, and I called it the ‘Other Consciousness.’  It frightened me.  I was afraid that I would get lost there and not be able to find my way back.  And there was another fear, too:

“The fear that I’ll look foolish — that my body will be in one world and my consciousness in another, and I will act out in my body things appropriate to the other world but inappropriate to where it is.”  (Poustinia Journal, July 1989)

Back then, I used Ira Progoff’s Intensive Journal to confront this Other Consciousness and my fear of it.  The Intensive Journal provides a method for personifying concepts so that they can be explored in written dialogues — essentially inner conversations.  Progoff called these conversations Dialogues with Events.  It has always been my favorite part of the Intensive Journal.

After many dialogues over a period of several months, the Other Consciousness revealed itself as a trinity of concepts with one of them eventually shifting identities to that of my medial nature, ‘Medie’.  That was in 1989.

In those dialogues, the Other Consciousness told me:

It is imperative that you learn to perform your role as medium (medial) correctly.  There is much good that you could do.  The dangers from a knowing misuse of that role are not nearly as great as its misuse from ignorance.  And not much good can come from allowing it to happen — from allowing the ignorance to continue.

It would really help if you understood as much as possible about how the mediating works.  You don’t have to deliberately use it.  You already know some things about the process.  At the very least, review and organize the knowledge you do have.

It would help if you could distinguish your own emotions from those belonging to someone else.  It would also help if you could distinguish between responses that are genuinely to you from those that are to material that’s been mediated.

Being centered is a prerequisite to being able to make those distinctions, but you need to be more than just centered.  Once you are centered, what you need to do will become clearer.

Despite my intention to immediately comply with this guidance, my inner work went into hiatus shortly after that.  For the next twenty years or so my attention was drawn to the external world of school and work.  Occasionally some personal distress would send me back to the Other Consciousness for assistance.

During the past decade, I’ve learned that when I have both feet firmly planted in the inner world, I can function well in both worlds — maintaining an awareness of oneness in the illusion of separation.  It is not easy to do this, and far too frequently I fail.  It is only in cooperating with Grace that I am able to do anything at all.  It has taken most of my life to understand this.  (Below is a quote from my Poustinia Journal from 2008)

Try walking with two ‘right’ feet. It’s easier than having a right foot and a left foot going in different directions. 

Excerpts from my Poustinia Journal:

Sunday, October 22, 1989:  (Reflecting on events surrounding my move from Iowa City to Los Angeles in 1973, a spiritual quest common to that time)  That whole period in my life was lived at the point of convergence on my Map of Consciousness.  I frequently lived in that Other Consciousness and my actions were determined by events there.  But I also lived in the ordinary world and kept track of everyday reality and accepted responsibility for myself and the consequences of my actions in that everyday reality.

I remember, too, the confusion about which world to live in.  The Other Consciousness usually felt more authentically ‘me.’  But sometimes it would seem too ‘far out,’ and I would switch back to everyday, practical reality where education, job, security and opportunities of advancement, conformity, etc., felt more appropriate.  The ‘right’ thing to do.   Acceptable.  But I always knew which consciousness I was in.  The confusion was about which to choose.  The confusion over choice extends back before the period I wrote about — at least a year or two before that.  And more likely all the way back to my childhood.

…I remember how the role of medial seemed to explain a lot of things that puzzled me about my problems with relationships.  Recently while reading Codependent No More, I found in that whole syndrome (of codependence) a more complete and acceptable (reasonable, rational, normal) explanation of those same problems.  Now this role of medial, psychic stuff comes up again.  I suspect that they are both the same thing, but from different perspectives.  Having weak boundaries is part of codependence, and I’ve also heard weak boundaries used as an explanation for psychic experiences.

I’m not sure where I am now on my Map of Consciousness, but I suspect I’ve been living more in ordinary reality, and my plans for school, career, marriage, etc. are in the ordinary reality.  I wonder if they will continue to be so.  Medie (My Role of Medial) and Other Consciousness both kept insisting on their importance in my life — “central to it” — no matter how much I argued against them.  I hope the whole thing manages to be resolved, integrated, and made wholesome.

Earlier entries:

Sunday, May 29, 1988:  I feel as if I live at the point of convergence of different ‘realities.’  I work hard at staying in the everyday, Ego reality, but occasionally drift toward Madness.  It’s a weird, crazy sort of feeling that I try to avoid and push away.  Depression, loneliness, unhappiness and anger aren’t a part of Madness.  They are very much a part of the everyday, Ego reality.  I want to live out of the Self, and I’ve been there enough to know what it’s like and that it’s possible to do that.

Self has a weird sort of feeling, too — weightless, free-fall.  The initial experience of it is so much like Madness that I automatically push it away, too.  The boundary between the Self and Madness is easily crossed and I’m afraid of moving toward the Self and finding myself in Madness instead.

Wednesday, April 26, 1989:  I don’t have my ‘Map’ with me.  But I feel as if I’m living out of my Self while trying to heal parts of Ego and Madness and having to fight the pull of each.  If I can manage to do this — more or less by choice — maybe I will be able to handle ‘bad things’ happening without becoming severely depressed.

Ego reactions this morning.  Feeling a little depressed.  Insecurity about my ability to have loving relationships.  Loneliness — wanting loving relationships.  Reminded myself that living out of Self gives me all I need for me and for others.  That is possible, and I can choose to do so.

Tonight feeling lonely and insecure — ‘different.’  Not like those who are people-oriented and with lots of people resources.  Not as lovable as they.  My most significant, human other is a professional relationship.

I’ve got to remember that feelings like this come from Ego.  I’m not really needy or inadequate.  I have it all within me.  And I’ve been living out of that space for most of the last four months.  That’s what I have to remember.  Growth — and maybe eventual involvement with people — will come from that place within.

Let’s face it, I am different.  Not eccentric or crazy, but ‘complex’ and ‘different’ and surprisingly simple, too.

Tuesday, June 27, 1989:  After reading Chapter IV, Role of Woman as Mediator, in Irene Claremont de Castillejo’s, Knowing Woman, it’s obvious that the role of mediator (medial) is strongest in me.  It explains a lot of things:

Needing to be alone so that I can sort out my own thoughts and emotions and distinguish them from the influences of others.

Being able to put on another’s skin and speak for him as I did so often in the various forms of group therapy — and for friends.

Why various people found my giving and caring to be threatening.  G’s saying, “I was afraid you could see through me.”  Maybe I saw too clearly.  I was certainly experienced as being too intense.

The times I’ve misunderstood another but didn’t realize it until some time afterward.  My delay in experiencing reactions to various events, feeling angry or insulted and discovering what I really wanted to say too long after the event to say it.  Are these all part of being a medium, too?  Having my identity so overshadowed by the person I’m with that I cannot respond as my Self until I am away from them, until I’m alone.

My Map of Consciousness.  Feeling that I was at the convergence of Ego, Self, and Madness.  The confusion of moving from one to another and feeling ‘crazy,’ or of being in two at once.

The poustinia is an appropriate vocation for a medial.  But is it still mine?  Can I achieve the greatest wholeness there?  Or is marriage a better path for me?  I would choose marriage if I could become whole enough to be a positive medial.  Otherwise the quarantine of the poustinia would provide for the mutual protection of myself and the world around me.  And maybe only in the solitude can I be positive enough to benefit both myself and the rest of the world.

Wednesday, June 28, 1989:  I feel unlovable.  Too different.  Too uncomfortable.  Too much the negative medial.  When useful as a medial, too invisible.  I pour myself out and there is nothing to fill me.  In a marathon group therapy I did role playing for so many.  Wanting someone to do that for me.  No one did.  No one could?

Anger (someone else’s not directed at me) – resistance to it makes me hard like a tuning fork.  Opening to it makes me soft, and I let it flow through me and dampen its effect.  So much material coming out.  I feel overwhelmed by it at times.  Drowning.  I want a break from it.  But afraid to stop the flow or try to slow it down.

Friday, June 30, 1989:  How do I do that?  How do I learn to control the mediating?  Exploring the whole area of being a medial and an intuitive is a terrible temptation to pride and superiority.  Every person I’ve known who has claimed to be psychic has been unbalanced and used the gift destructively.  I would rather deny it than do that, but Irene Claremont de Castillejo says that it will just have to be dealt with by a later generation when other business would be more appropriate for them.  I guess I’ll just have to wrestle with it as best I can.

There seems to be something very strong in me that will not allow the essential part of me to be lost or overshadowed for long.  Self-preservation is a powerful force in me.  My spiritual director has commented that I’ve continued to be my individual self even when it was confusing and uncomfortable to do so.

I really want to understand this medial role in myself.  I want to see it for what it really is without all the prideful, ego inflating things getting in the way.  I want to be able to distinguish events in the past when I operated as an undifferentiated medial from those that were something else entirely.

I honestly don’t think I’m a strong psychic.  But something in me definitely appears to have acted as an undifferentiated medial.  I have had difficulty sorting out my own thoughts and feelings from those of the people around me.  ‘Impressionable’ I’ve called it.  I am not as ‘impressionable’ as I used to be.  Or am I?  I’m not as ‘nice’ to unattractive people as I used to be.  I’m most comfortable and at peace when I’m alone.  But I’ve had lots of bad experiences with people since I was a child.  Maybe this is all because I learned to be a people pleaser rather than being intuitive.  Or do the two go together?


Map of Consciousness

- Meme - People with think you're crazy

These journal entries mention my Map of ConsciousnessI chose to write about it last because it just sounds ‘crazy’!

I did a lot of work before I understood my reliance on the inner world.  I experienced shifts that appeared to have more to do with different states of consciousness than with emotions.  To sort this out, I created a map that divided consciousness into three, overlapping states:  Madness, Sanctity, and Ego.

According to my Map of Consciousness:

Ego is everyday reality where things are:

  • ordinary,
  • controlled, and
  • known. 

Madness and Sanctity share qualities of being: 

  • extraordinary,
  • out of control, and
  • unknown. 

They differ in that Madness is:

  • insane
  • unwholesome, and
  • sick. 
  • Perhaps evil?

While Sanctity is:

  • wholesome,
  • holy, and 
  • the true Self. 

There is a fine line between Madness and Sanctity and a point of convergence where the three states meet.

I created my Map of Consciousness before I learned about the medial (aka ‘mediumistic woman’), and found validation for it when I did.  Plotting my experiences on the map, I often found that I was at or near the point of convergence.  Below are two versions of my Map of Consciousness:  a photo of the original and a recreation for clarity. 

- - - - Map of Consciousness - photo of original
Original Map of Consciousness probably created in early 1988 or before.
- - - - Map of Consciousness typed scan

Map of Consciousness recreated for clarity.




Beattie, Melody.  (1987) Codependent No More.  Center City:  Hazelden

Corson, Roberta Bassett.  (1998).  Wounds of the Medial Woman in Contemporary Western Culture.  Santa Barbara:  Pacifica Graduate Institute

de Castillejo, Irene Claremont.  (1973).  Knowing Woman: A Feminine Psychology.  New York: Harper & Row.

Progoff, Ira.  (1975).  At a Journal Workshop:  The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal Process.  New York:  Dialogue House Library.

MEDIAL PERSONALITY – Part 2:  “The Beggar Boy” – A Metaphor for the Subtle Medial


Somewhere in his work, Ira Progoff taught that creative projects often take on lives of their own separate from their creators.  (I learned this from one of his students, Mary K deLurgio, MFT.)  The Beggar Boy is like that.  Once it was completed and shared, The Beggar Boy became his own person.  He is now free to communicate with his readers in whatever ways fit them best.

The Beggar Boy began as a metaphor for my own life.  Writing it helped me make sense of things.  Despite its brevity, it took over thirty years to complete!  Once completed, it became clear that the metaphor was universal.  After reviewing it for this post, I saw that it is also the story of a ‘subtle’ medial.

The illustrations are photos of art work that I’ve come to associate with The Beggar Boy. However, “The Little Vagabond,” is cuter and more cheerful than the character in the story. I found him on a note card published at least 28 years ago by the Association of Handicapped Artists. The artist, L. Calloni, mouthpainted the original. The dusty road is a pastel of a real desert trail at St. Andrew’s Abbey, done by one of their monks, Fr. Werner Papeians de Morchoven, OSB (1914-2008). Fr. Werner’s pastel is the only piece of valuable artwork I own.



Once upon a time there was a ragged, little beggar boy. Well, actually, he wasn’t a beggar. He earned what he got from doing odd jobs. And he wasn’t ragged either. He was really quite presentable in an unobtrusive sort of way. He just felt like a ragged, little beggar boy. His family didn’t want him and sent him out alone to make his way in the world.

PHOTO - Beggar Boy post -Dusty road(1).jpg

The boy had traveled long enough to have left behind the familiar sights of his family’s home and the community where they lived. He now walked along a dry, dusty road. He’d been walking the road for days seeing little that caught his interest. But now he saw a beautiful city on top of a hill way off in the distance. At the very top of the hill was a castle, glinting in the sun like a golden crown. The road seemed to be leading in that direction.

The road was well used. Every once in a while noble men or women would ride by on fine horses or in magnificent carriages. Some, not seeing the boy at all, passed him by in haste leaving him blinking and holding his breath until the dust cleared. Others, who traveled on foot, bumped and jostled him as they passed. Still others, spying him from a distance, made a wide detour around him as if put off by the boy’s appearance.

The most peculiar encounters may have been caused by a trick of sunlight. That was the only explanation that made sense to the boy. Sometimes travelers would approach him as if he were a wise and holy man. They would seek his advice or ask a blessing, and depart praising him for his goodness. The boy did the best he could for them, but he knew they were mistaken and hoped they wouldn’t be too angry when they discovered their error. At other times, the boy caught sight of people passing by him at a respectful distance their faces turned toward him with expressions of awe and pleasure as if seeing some exquisitely beautiful and graceful creature. And there were those who saw an arrogance of wealth and talent and beauty in the boy that surpassed their own and made them jealous. It was always the most wealthy and talented and beautiful who saw these things. They would taunt the boy and trip him and throw obstacles in his way.

These encounters greatly disturbed the boy. It was only fair to be praised and punished for what you were. But to have it happen for what you weren’t was madness.

Occasionally a brave and generous soul would stop to converse with the boy, offering a kind word and maybe sharing some food. Sometimes the generous one would ask the boy to serve as bearer, but the boy was too little and too weak to help for long. He could not keep up. Always, always he was left behind.

Contact with the noble people, showed the boy how little he had and how much it was possible to have. He saw that he was very poor and felt a great sadness because of his poverty. The boy kept on walking, a little lonelier but a little more hopeful than he was before.

Each of the people who stopped told the boy they were on their way to the king’s banquet in the castle on the hill. They talked about their friends and the good times they would have, and how delicious and rich was the food they would eat. The king had open house all the time, and the banquet table was always full.

As he heard these stories, the boy was filled with a great longing to attend the banquet. Sometimes he would tell his visitors of this longing and ask if he could go, too. They always told him that of course he could — when he grew as big and strong and was as finely dressed as they. At this the boy’s heart would fall because he knew that to grow big and strong enough to earn fine clothing, one must have good wholesome food to eat and plenty of it. That was something he would never have.

Occasionally the boy would ask the noble people to take him with them. He was careful to ask only the kinder ones. They all told him that they’d like to very much, but there was always something more important that they really had to do, and he’d understand that, of course. But he wasn’t sure that he did. And so the boy continued his solitary journey filled with a great longing and a great loneliness and a hope that brought him pain.

One day, after much weary travelling, the boy found himself on the outskirts of the city. Just being there eased his pain a bit. Even if he couldn’t attend the banquet, he could be close to where it was happening. But before he had a chance to stop and rest, a breeze blew from the castle the enticing fragrance of the most wondrous food in the world. It so filled the boy with its attractiveness that, trance-like, he began walking toward the source of the fragrance. When he came to his senses again, he was at the king’s castle! At the open door to the enormous kitchen where all the food was prepared for the banquet! And there inside, supervising the work, was the king himself!

The king saw the boy and knew him for he had loved him all his life. The boy was unaware of this, but the longing and the loneliness so overwhelmed him, and the sight of all that marvelous food caused him such hunger, that pushing back his hair and tucking in his shirt, he gathered up his courage and walked into that great kitchen.

He knelt trembling at the king’s feet. “Your Majesty,” he whispered with a tongue too dry for speech. Then licking his lips and clearing his throat he tried again. “Your Majesty. Um. Could I please? Uh. Would it be possible? Uh. Can I attend your banquet?” And then timidly, fearfully, hopefully he looked into the face of the king.

The king smiled at him then with such love and compassion that the boy forgot to be hungry. The king answered with great gentleness, “No, my son. You are not big enough or strong enough to attend the banquet. The food is too rich for you and would make you ill.”

If there had not been such love in the king’s voice, the boy would have died of pain and disappointment. And then the king continued, “You will be my servant. You will carry food to the banquet table, and you will serve my guests. You will grow strong through your work, and the fragrance of the food will be your sustenance. But if you should ever feel weak and hungry, come to me, and I will give you the only food that is necessary.”


The boy served at the king’s table for a very long time. With the passing of years, he grew to become a fine, strong man. He wasn’t handsome, but he wasn’t unpleasant to look at either. His appearance was such that one hardly noticed him at all.

One day as he was waiting on the guests, it occurred to him that he was as big and strong as any of them and a lot better than some of them. Like the fellow who dressed in funny clothes and always let food dribble down his chin. And the old lady who ate only ice cream and smelled of stale urine. And then there was the old man who heaped his plate full, crammed the food into his mouth, and growled at anyone who tried to talk to him. Surely if they were welcome at the banquet table, there must be a place for him, too.

Not long after that, the man approached the king and asked if, now that he was grown, he could sit and eat at the banquet table. The king did not answer. He simply continued his inspection of the kitchen as if the man weren’t there at all. The man made the request of the king on several other occasions, but he always got the same response.

The man became angry at this. Each time he served at table he compared himself to the guests and became more and more envious and more and more resentful. The tantalizing fragrances no longer gave him sustenance. They made him unbearably hungry. The man did not consider asking the king for the “only food that was necessary” that he’d been offered as a boy. The king’s refusal to acknowledge his request to sit at the banquet table made the man reluctant to ask for other food.

After a while, the man began sitting at the banquet table whenever there was an empty place. He could never manage more than a bite or two before a guest asked him to leave. “That’s my wife’s place.” “My husband sits there.” “My daughter is just coming back.” “I’m saving this place for a friend.”

Without nourishment, the man began to grow weaker. The numerous rejections made him aware that he hungered for companionship as much as for food. He was both hungry and very lonely, and he was consumed with a rage of resentment and envy.

Sometimes the man took long walks away from the castle exploring the wilderness outside the city limits. Away from the sights and sounds and smells of the banquet hall, he felt his suffering less intensely. He no longer had the strength to work the long hours that were his normal routine. His work caused him such pain that he began spending more time in the wilderness and waited on table less and less. None of the guests noticed.

The man stopped asking the king for permission to sit at the banquet table, and he made no more attempts to join the banquet uninvited. These days when the man looked into the king’s eyes, there was no love there nor even indifference. He saw amusement — without a trace of kindness.

The man began to shrink in stature and to become gray and ghost-like. No one noticed. He stopped waiting on table. No one noticed. Food arrived at table and was eaten, dishes were cleared away, and more food was served. That never changed. It had been that way before the boy arrived. It continued while he grew to manhood. And it was uninterrupted now that he no longer worked.

The man left the castle. No one noticed.



The man built a home for himself in the wilderness. He made friends with the animals and found wild foods to eat. He grew in harmony with nature. He no longer thought about being included with others at the king’s table, and he was content with what he had. There was a kind of peace in that. Even though his suffering had stopped, the man was never truly happy. Sometimes he pretended to himself that the king still looked at him with eyes filled with love.

One day when the man was very old, the king appeared to him in a vision and told the man that he had never ceased to serve others. The sustenance the man had always provided was not the food he served in the castle so long ago, but the grace that flowed through his soul to others because of his relationship with the king.

The king explained that the man had misunderstood his life because its real purpose had been kept a secret. The man had been given a task that was so important that knowledge of it would have overwhelmed and incapacitated him.

The king showed the man how the grace that flowed through him had enriched the world. No one knew it came through the man, and the man saw that this was as it should be. For the grace to have been associated with him in any way would have restricted its flow to a mere trickle.

The man saw, too, that it was good that no one remembered him. He asked the king to continue to keep the secret. The man knew that one day he would die, and he wanted no one to feel pain from his life or his death. He did not want anything to interfere with the grace that had enriched the world. The king agreed to honor this request.

That evening while the man watched the sunset from beneath his favorite tree, he fell asleep and died. The last tangible food he served was his own body. Insects and wild animals feasted on flesh. Soil absorbed what was left and nourished the tree.

The grace that flowed through the man while he lived remained at work in the world.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The ending was inspired by the TV series, Fringe. In the third season finale, the hero sacrifices himself to save two worlds from mutual destruction. He is successful, but no one remembers that he was ever alive. This is an elegant gift. Worlds are saved, and the hero is lost. But no one remembers him so there is no pain of grief. There is also no body to dispose of and no business left behind for others to conclude.

 Part I was written sometime during the spring of 1982 and Part II on 10/23/1988. Part III was begun 10/23/1988 and completed 7/09/2012. The entire story was revised 11/10/2012 for clarity and continuity.


Untiltled Pastel of Desert Trail. Artist: Fr. Werner Papeians de Morchoven, OSB Fr. Werner:

The illustration,“The Little Vagabond”, is a photo of a notecard.. The back of the card reads: “THE LITTLE VAGABOND” 178.07. From an Original mouthpainted by L. CALLONI. Published by the Association of Handicapped Artists, Inc. Litho in U.S. A. by Holling Press, Inc. Buffalo, N.Y.

 An internet search provided no information about L. Calloni, but I did find the following organization:  Mouth and Foot Painting Artists: