Saturday Memory

October 19, 2024

My father had a regular job as foreman at Arden Milk Company in Los Angeles. He also had a sideline. He was a bookie. He had a sizeable clientele consisting of police, firemen, and local political figures. A year after I was born (1939), Mickey Cohen moved to Los Angeles and began to develop an organized crime family. He was mentored by Bugsy Seigel, the head of the National Crime Syndicate. During the ensuing years, Mickey began to organize all bookies in the Los Angeles area. It was in 1949 when Mickey pressured my dad to join the “family.” My dad said no. At that point, Mikey threatened my dad and our entire family. His threats were not idle, as he had killed or ordered the killing of many. My dad talked to the police, and they ordered full protection for us. The police would take us to and from school and at home there were always two detectives. We were never harmed. The police taught me how to play poker and how to bet and how to read “tells.” I loved this!

In 1950, Mickey Cohen was investigated by the US Senate’s Kefauver Commission and was convicted of tax evasion and sentenced to prison for four years. The police protection ended. I followed Cohen’s news after he was released. He became a celebrity and traveled in high circles. Several movies were made in later years featuring Micky Cohen (Bugsy, L.A. Confidential, Gangster Squad, The Lincoln Lawyer.)

Pretty heady times for a kid not yet a teen.

Saturday Memory

October 12, 2024

While sorting through a box of stuff, I came across a small, 3.5-inch by 5.5-inch plaid covered notebook that I had journaled in on my trip to Scotland in 1992. That year, I was the United States representative to the Arts Festival held yearly at Dunvegan Castle on the Isle of Skye. I had been invited by John MacLeod, the Chief of Clan MacLeod. During my week-long stay at the castle, I got to know John, Bani Shorter (Jungian analyst from Edinburgh), and Norman MacCaig, one of my favorite poets, as well as distinguished others.  The festival featured singing (including John MacLeod, a professional-level opera singer), piano recitals, presentations of instruments and discussions, several sessions of bagpiping, original music compositions (Marc Yeats), and talks.

Bani Shorter presented “The Thread of the Story: The Fairy Flag.” I presented two talks: “Writing from the Inside of the Inside,” and “The Cost of Poetry and the Price of its Loss.” The year before, the US representative was Helen Vendler, perhaps best known as the poetry editor of the New Yorker, and one of the most honored literary critics. She was an English professor at Harvard and known for her emphasis on “close reading.” I was honored to represent the US, but I was daunted by following Helen Vendler.

I think scared would be more accurate. For as much as I felt it necessary to have prepared and written talks for this august event, I could not write. I was totally stopped. Some insistent inner voice said, “No! Spontaneous talks they will be.” And so, they were. I felt inspired by the feelings generated in experiencing such a gathering of creative people. What I said was not recorded and I barely have any memory of it. I can say that what came out of me was not some well-honed conscious material, but more like the outpouring of a deep lava. I was basically speaking out what I heard from somewhere deep inside. I am reminded now of what Miles Davis said: “Man, you don’t play what you know, you play what you hear.” And too, what Robert Olen Butler says: “Art does not come from ideas. Art does not come from the mind. Art comes from the place where you dream. Art comes from your unconscious; it comes from the white-hot center of you.”

I would like to re-create those talks, but I’m not sure it is possible.

Russ

Hi all,

Here is an important interview. Jon Wilson interviews John Woodcock on

the subject of therapist as shaman, the subject of John's new book. Here is

the link:

On the Couch with John Woodcock PhD (substack.com)

Russ

SATURDAY’S MEMORIES

Russell Lockhart

In the dream, I was working on a new project. It was a weekly letter to be published on Saturday’s and entitled, Saturday’s Memories. The content was to be focused on writing, in some detail, about a memory that had come to me during the week. This dream has sparked a desire to do what I was doing in the dream. So, I will begin next Saturday and post my comments on whatever memory visits me in the coming week. [10.06.24]

With great excitement, the C. G. Jung Society of Seattle announces the launch of an online monthly seminar with Dr. Russell Lockhart starting September 18th from 10 a.m. - 12 p.m., Pacific Time.

Based locally in Everett, Washington, Dr. Lockhart—Jungian analyst, trainer, writer, editor, and publisher over more than 50 years—has generously offered to share his extensive Jungian knowledge with participants using a question-and-answer format. To begin, he plans to focus discussion on the Red Book, imagination, and dreams starting with his essay “Appassionato for the Imagination” (available to members only here: https://jungseattle.org/learn/members-special-collections/ ). In this essay, Dr. Lockhart connects the Red Book with Jung's perspective on modern art and his insistence on the reality of "Other." He then asks” for us today, "How...and in what way, can The Red Book be a guide?"

This drop-in discussion group is in addition to our newly published Archives of the Writings of Russell Lockhart, located on our website in the Members' Dashboard. No prior knowledge, experience, or previous participation in the group is required. Please join us and sign up by clicking this link: https://jungseattle.org/connect/become-a-member   At the site, click on “Join Today.” The Archive and the Seminar will be available only to members.

The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern

A Novel

Russell Lockhart

©2024

Preface

June 28, 2024

I had a dream last night: I saw the title page of my new novel. The title is The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern. This may have been inspired by a novel I have been reading, written in first person (something I've never done) by Freida McFadden. She is now a top-selling novelist. As I read it, I felt strong impulses “to write” in first person—in this case, to write from Eddie Morgenstern’s point of view.

Before writing anything, I asked artificial intelligence (on the co-pilot platform) what it knows about this title. Here is AI’s response:

It seems there might be a mix-up here! The film you’re referring to is titled “The Re-Education of Molly Singer,” not Eddie Morgenstern. Directed by Andy Palmer and starring Britt Robertson, the movie follows a young lawyer who goes undercover by enrolling as a freshman at her old alma mater to help her boss’s awkward teenage son.

So, I guess AI doesn't know about my next novel even though my dream intelligence does. This sparked an impulse to write an essay on DI on the theme of dream intelligence in relation to artificial intelligence.

Then I told AI: The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern is from a dream.

Copilot responded.

Ah, I see! Dreams can be fascinating sources of inspiration. Let’s delve into the dreamlike world of “The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern.”

The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern

In the hazy twilight of Eddie Morgenstern’s subconscious, reality blurred with imagination. The edges of his existence softened, and he found himself in a place that defied logic—a school unlike any other.

The corridors stretched infinitely, their walls adorned with chalkboard equations that whispered secrets to those who dared listen. Eddie wandered, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Each door he opened revealed a classroom where forgotten knowledge danced like fireflies.

In one room, ancient philosophers debated the nature of existence. Socrates scribbled proofs on the blackboard, while Confucius sipped tea and pondered the meaning of virtue. Eddie sat among them, absorbing wisdom that transcended time.

Down another hallway, he stumbled upon a library with books that pulsed with energy. Their titles shifted—Quantum Mechanics for Dreamers, The Art of Levitation, Navigating Parallel Universes. Eddie reached for a volume titled Dream Syntax: A User’s Guide, but it slipped through his fingers like smoke.

And then, at the heart of this dream-school, he met the enigmatic Professor Hypnos. With eyes like constellations, Hypnos taught Eddie the language of dreams—the syntax of starlight, the grammar of moonbeams. Eddie learned to rewrite his own narrative, to unlearn and relearn.

As dawn approached, Eddie stood at the threshold of awakening. Professor Hypnos whispered, “Remember, Eddie, reality is just a dream you’ve all agreed upon.” And with that, Eddie stepped back into the waking world, carrying the echoes of forgotten equations and the promise of re-education.

Whether Eddie Morgenstern’s dream becomes a novel or remains a secret whispered to the night, it’s a tale worth exploring. If you’d like more glimpses into this dream-realm, feel free to ask!

For now, I have no feeling or enthusiasm for following up AI’s version of the novel. Instead, I’m going to hand over the project to Eddie Morgenstern and see what he comes up with.

CHAPTER ONE

Welcome, reader, to The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern. Being Eddie Morgenstern, you might except that I would know what this “re-education” thing is about, but I don’t. And, most likely you don’t know either. Keep in mind that the whole idea came from another person’s dream. I haven’t an inkling how or why this applies to me. So, on impulse,  and with some curiosity about the so-called “wisdom of the crowd,” I have set up an e-mail address so that you can write to me. Even if I am blank-minded maybe you have an idea, a fantasy, an intuition, or even a dream about what is afoot. If so, jot it down and send it along to:

eddiemorgenstern46@gmail.com

[Copy and paste in your mail program]

I won’t promise to use anything you send but I will promise to read every word that you send, and consider its possibility of inclusion. I’m a great believer in inclusion and including the reader in the writing of my novel is a good example of this.

            Besides, I don’t want to do this all by myself. I have done enough things by myself. Maybe this impulse to include others is part of my re-education. I like that idea! Though it was not my dream that started all of this, I respect the dream and intend to take it seriously. So, I do not know what my re-education might be; I am wide open to suggestions no matter how real or fanciful.

            So, let’s begin. Send me something to work with and I will work to open myself to whatever presents itself, to whatever comes along.

Medical issues and age (86 in November) have made slow a necessary part of my daily life. I mean really slow. I have worked hard to accept this inevitability. Still, it is difficult to feel the increasing estrangement from the world's increasing addiction to speed. I find less and less valuing of slow at any level. But when I do, I find myself savoring it like a slow-cooked meal.

I have recently stumbled across a book that I am now reading. The title is The Art of Slow Writing by Luise DeSalvo. While I used to enjoy reading fast, that is no longer the case. So, I am reading this book slowly, very slowly. Early on she quotes from a poem by Eve Merriam: "It takes a lot/of slow/to grow." I've taken this up as a mantra.

I did not want to wait until I finished this book to alert you to it. But from what I have read so far, I recommend it highly.

COMMENTS ON RAL’s “What is the Value of Asemic Writing”

Paco Mitchell
Russ, What a fascinating question: Whether dreams are asemic or not? How about both? Yes and
no? Looking forward to reading what you come up with.
Meanwhile, I am wondering whether there may be an asemic assumption “built in” to the
prejudicial idea that only humans can write. I don’t KNOW that for a fact, but as I mull over
your post, I am reminded of one of several powerful HERON DREAMS I had over the years.
I want to tell that dream here, in case it will give us more to speculate on the question of
“animal speech.” I have long since thought that animals, especially birds and mammals, have
languages. This dream dates from at least half a century ago:

SPEECH OF THE SWALLOWS DREAM
I see two swallows sitting on the “telephone” wires running into my Blue Heron Foundry
building. [In actuality, at the time of the dream in the late 1970s or early 1980s, there were
two telephone cables running into the foundry building.] The swallows are chattering away,
the way swallows do. I realize that I can understand the speech of the swallows. I know what
they are saying. Furthermore, I can see the swallow-words spelled out in high relief. The
birds have their own archaic vocabulary. It corresponds to no human alphabet. What amazes
me is that the speech of the swallows is rendered in a never-before-seen alphabet, each letter
carved out of solid blocks of hard stone, like basalt. The “letters” are all about 30ft. to 40 ft.
high. It is an ancient alphabet that far pre-dates the earliest human alphabets (like
cuneiform, hieroglyphics, Hebrew, etc.)
I am stunned to realize that I can understand what the swallows are saying, in English
translation. I can also see, in the dream, the graphic representation of the “swallows’
alphabet.” I realize that I can understand both the “stone-carved original letters” and the
English translations thereof. As I begin approaching the waking state, I try to decide which
image I will carry into consciousness with me. When I wake up, I can no longer remember or
visualize what the 40-ft. stone letters are, nor can I remember the English translation. [End of
dream.]
The implicit idea in that dream was clear: Swallows—and therefore other birds and
animals—have their own forms of speech, which apparently involves having their own
“alphabets.” Would it be, perhaps, an “asemic alphabet”?
Did the tiny swallows themselves—Masters of Graceful Flight and Beauty, sacred to the
ancient love-goddess Aphrodite—carve the monstrous-sized letters in stone? If not, then just
who did carve them? I admit, I have no trouble at all assigning formidable powers to those
sacred birds. But the sheer size of the letters, and the obdurate material of their realization, set
me back on my heels in amazement.

John Woodcock

"Are dreams asemic?" Such an amazing provocative question, Russ. Has it ever been asked before? I am thinking that this question, given by psyche, is quite different from the neurobiological stance today that dream are meaningless. This dominant stance simply leads us away from dreams and towards our collective fate. But psyche posing the question draws us deeper into the nature of dreams. Much to ponder, thanks!

Suzan Rood Wilson

As analysts, we have to take each and every dream as asemic. As Jung said, we do not know what a dream means. But the dream itself seems to find its way to meaning. We should not, as helpers, ascribe meaning to it. The dream has a way of creating meaning. We must notice, we must do our best to see the untying of the massa confusa. This is totally anathema to AI, incidentally. “Analyzing” a dream has gotten away from its original meaning. “Analysis” comes from the Greek prefix “ana-“ which comes from the notion of “against” or “un” as in the idea of doing the opposite of what the next part of the entire word implies. The etymology of the last part of the word “analysis” is “-lysis.” Its root comes from the words related to “tying up” or “bringing together,” as in an elision, a liaison, a ligament. So an “analysis”has to do with pulling apart what has been tied together. As when a complex balls up the messy neuroses that shows up in dream imagery.

It is only the feeling that there is an inherent meaning already, brought in the dream as an asemic display. The meaning finds itself. There is an accompanying feeling that attends asemic dreaming. It is that sudden knowledge that there IS a meaning and that when it is untied, the mass of threads, opened just enough to see the components that give what seems like nonsense, a deep feeling sense.

Suzan Rood Wilson

I just woke up to a dream or the first thought or the words that spring into consciousness right out of sleep.

It was this verbatim: “Artificial Intelligence has no possible way of enduring Negative Capability.” Those were the words.

AI’s sole purpose is either to find or to inject meaning non-organically into a given situation. So dreams MUST be interpreted logically in AI. Asemia must never exist there because it cannot be explained and tolerated. AI has no ability to “wait” withOUT explanation, without “making meaning” immediately, or as the 19th century poet, Keats knew so young and so well, “without any irritable reading after fact and reason.” What does AI know what the psyche wants to mean? Nope. We must be in WuWei, the Asian concept of “waiting” for the meaning, in the conscious tension of being at home in opposing forces. In Negative Capability. If you have not yet caught on, this was what Jung first understood what alchemy was. The ability to be in the unknown, to observe, to wait, for what the psyche wants, not what the intellect wants post haste, and for the psyche to be the active motive in observing the transcending and uniting experience that arises without my mind, without my intellect, and to submit to the answer my Unconscious wants. We must have patience. We must be pregnant with this tension to begin to move into a new “matrix,” a word that derives from”mother” “matter” and “womb.” To be born absolutely organically from tension to a NEW matrix. Always a new womb from which we must constantly be born from and into yet another matrix. This is how we learn. We get curious. We are, as Jung said in the Mysterium, “compelled” to know new things. Either by a “mere interest or by compulsion proper.” Check my quote. I just woke up, lying in bed and allowing my thoughts to chop logic, NOT to know.

It is not a simple task to let ideas live semi-consciously inside you. The unconscious has to prepare you for that Transcendent. Not a Hegelian “synthesis.” Not at all. It is state of the Tertium Non Datur, the Third or Transcendent not yet in existence. Not quite yet. It is the promise of some new position or understanding that is coming and quickening.

THIS is what defies AI. Asemia chops logic (with apologies to William James here). To be human often requires having no explanation or good answers. Or some meaning served up like the world’s fastest food, just to stave off the hunger of anxiety and of needing an answer fast. Now.

AI cannot tolerate the process of waiting for meaning. Asemic writing is in the right direction of allowing the unconscious to move according to its own purpose. And we cannot know that before we DO know that.

Today is the 63rd memorial of Jung’s death. Imagine, because you CAN, what Jung would have thought of this predigested meal, served up by AI. He would not very likely stand for it. And here we are, on the 63rd memorial of his death, grappling still with the questions Jung also grappled with, night after night, for years, being dragged by his ears into Asemia.

We must go slowly. Bring out the pen, the paper, the stamps. Snail Mail a thought. You will have to wait days, not nanoseconds, for the impact of your thoughts on another human being. Somebody please proofread this! I need a biobreak!

John Woodcock

Depth psychology treats dreams, just as you say, Suzan, as being inherently meaningful (there is an inherent meaning already...). This inherent meaning has to be teased out (analysis) again as you say, and, yes we are not to ascribe meaning to dreams. What appears to be nonsense holds (hidden at first) meaning. But the concept of asemic is pointing to something radically different from all this, I think. There is no meaning to be (eventually) found or discovered. I don't believe it is a matter of dreams being inherent meaning "brought to an asemic display" so that it can "find itself", as you suggest above. If dreams are asemic, we probably have to drop current ideas of meaning, finding meaning, dreams as meaning, unconscious meaning etc. This what I find exciting! In my musings subsequent to Russ' post, I thought of Barnett Newman's "Zip" paintings along with Heidegger's "Contributions to Philosophy" which is his version of The Red Book, an almost crazy book. "Inception" comes to mind. There is huge interest at this time in how meaning itself comes to be! Not comes to be discovered but comes to be. "Spitting fissure" comes to mind. So this concept is very psychoactive for me in the light of my work on "the threshold", ie where the asemic action is... All the best, John

Tanya Hurst

I was thinking about asemic writing, and I realized that some of my poetry (used loosely) really grabs images, and words, sometimes from songs, and puts them together, and they truly have no “meaning.” Though I might begin with a meaning in mind, when I let go of ego control of the outcome, something else comes about. What grabbed me just now in reading about asemic dreams, and thinking about those poems, is that while there is no “meaning,” there is no meaning needed. A “feeling,” is evoked. In this way it seems, though I may not find meaning, there is a feeling and the feeling seems to “know” and perhaps not “solve,” but relieve, express, or present something other that what the words themselves would define. My poems seem meaningless to me still, yet I can recall the writing and experience something being worked within me, and so I am fond of and thankful for them. I’ve only ever read two poems aloud to others on one occasion, and the reading evoked feelings in the listeners. Perhaps the listener might imagine a meaning but can never be truly certain. No resolution through meaning, yet something if not resolved, is moved. So too with my dreams. I can attempt to find meaning, but often the dream evokes deep emotion without the need of meaning, and seems to be communing with something within myself that even I do not know, but that I experience.