Posted by: Laurel | May 18, 2012

One Jungian Journey: A Play

The Waterfall as Muse

thumb|A sculptor's impression of the sofa in u...

thumb|A sculptor’s impression of the sofa in use Deutsch: Freud Sofa aufgenommen im Freud-Museum London Česky: Freudovo lehátko, na němž uléhali pacienti (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mountain Laurel (NGM XXXI p503)

Mountain Laurel (NGM XXXI p503) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

~Curtain opens as June Styer, Jungian Therapist, sits attentively at her teak desk, sitting in her bamboo, batik-designed cushioned chair,

chain-smoking cigarettes, writing furiously.  June looks up as she hears her first client of the day knock tentatively at her door~

Irritated mildly, she answers, “Show yourself, please.”

~Enter Laurel, a 24 year old woman of medium build (on the ‘pudgy’ side), torn clothing, and wildly askew hair;  it is Laurel’s first visit to June’s practice~

June: “You must be…Laurel, is it?”

Laurel: “Yes, that’s me.”

June: “Why don’t you sit down?”

Laurel: “Where?”

June: “Anywhere, Laurel, the couch is quite comfortable, or this chair…”

~Mid-sentence, June takes note that Laurel interrupts her without noticing this tendency~

Laurel: “This is fine.”

~Laurel chooses the couch. She wriggles, settling finally into the paisley furniture she has chosen; now her whole appearance and apparent personality clashes somehow with the couch itself~

June: “I see from your intake information that you would like to speak to me about a dream you’ve been having, was it repeatedly?”

~June looks quite interested in her client’s situation; understanding, and fully committed to the Jungian approach to therapy~

Laurel: “Well…”

June: “It’s fine, Laurel, it’s okay to talk to me when you’re ready.”

Laurel: “Thanks”

June: “No problem.”

~Both therapist and client sit back momentarily, June taking furtive glances at her notes on the desk. Laurel seems uncomfortable and hesitant to speak~

June: “Are you ready now?”

Laurel: “I guess…”

June: “Go on, then.”

~June is waiting for Laurel to speak with her, and is growing impatient, but doesn’t let it show~

Laurel: “Okay. I had this dream last night about going to prison.”

June: “What happened in this dream?”

Laurel: “Well, I stole some drugs from a friend and I did this in front of a cop!”

June: “Why do you think your dream Laurel would do this?”

Laurel: “I don’t know.”

June: “Our hour is running a bit long. When is your next appointment?

Laurel:  “Hang on a minute, I think I wrote it down…somewhere.  Oh, shit, I can’t find…”

June:  “Here it is.  Next Tuesday at 10 O’Clock.  Is that still good for you?”

Laurel:  “I think so…”

June:  “Just let me know if there’s a conflict, and I’ll reschedule.  All right?”

Laurel:  “See you, then.”

~Laurel seems to float up out of her couch with lithe grace and exits, still rummaging through her purse.   She does not make eye contact with June as she leaves the office.  June looks down at her patient notes on her new client, writes a couple of comments about this new client, and lights a smoke.  She looks now at her piles of scattered information and cries, putting her head down, cigarette forgotten~



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