highest parts of ourselves—the denied aspirations, spiritual yearning and wise acceptance of life’s conflicts. Often, however, we need a supportive forum and a skilled facilitator to make sense of the messages our dreams are offering. In hypnotherapy or hypnotic psychodrama, we can invite those symbolic dream images to speak for themselves, just like we do with a sensation or symptom in the body: “Give it a voice and let it speak.” Then they take on a life of their own, no longer constricted to the exact script of the dream, but opened up to a dialogue with the individual whose unconscious presented him with the dream in the first place. Who better to elaborate the meaning and message of these dream figures than the one whose mind presented them? Not the therapist, and not a book on dream symbols. Probably not the everyday, conscious mind of the client either; the magic of working with dreams in this hypnotic trance state is the access it provides to the part of the mind which created and offered the dream in the first place, the client’s unconscious.
Sometimes a traumatic event is so intrusive and devastating that the ego experiences it as overwhelming. The threat is greater and the response is to create a more divisive split. As with the previous example of the child trapped alone in the house, this typically happens because options for physically getting to safety are not available, as can occur in war, natural disasters or the situation of adults abusing the children in their care, since children (as dependents) need to keep living with their caretakers. In this sort of instance, the “other” that is created cannot stay connected with the victim’s ego, serving as an ally like the shadow did. It must retreat deeper within, to unconscious levels.
Let’s return to the example of the abused child. As the soul begins to split away from control of some aspect of the ego or personality, that fragment of the personality is forced to align itself with something else to run the show…and it connects with someone “bigger than life” to try creating safety and to meet basic needs. We use the analogy of “running away to the circus” to describe this need. The aspect of the child created in this manner is called a complex and it has a core of the child’s essence, but it also has a much more forceful identity borrowed from circus characters from the “collective unconscious,” a term coined by Carl Jung. The personal unconscious is a gathering of experiences unique to each individual, while the collective unconscious collects and organizes those experiences that are common to all of us. The trauma state associated with this complex is much more autonomous from the ego than any shadow, so when it appears, it explodes into activation—suddenly, unexpectedly and with power. It “possesses” the individual and compels the ego to comply. The ego gives in immediately because the arrangement is intended to insure safety and survival. And for those who developed the complex as children, it’s been in place for as long as they can remember, in most cases.
The archetypal characters at the circus are indeed larger than life and carry the intrigue that has captivated humanity. Importantly, we could say that they’re eager to be “adopted” by a child because then they too can split, allowing part of these great figures to essentially run away from the circus and go home with the child.
At this point, the child has a working relationship with the circus character, but the archetype is more powerful than the child and has a life of its own. The more traumatized the child is—the deeper the split—the more overpowering the circus character, because its power is needed in response to the trauma. In fact, when the trauma reaches a state of shock and effectively severs the child’s soul or essence from running the show, the circus character completely takes over to the point of physiological changes.
Addiction is an example of how the autonomous complex (the part of the psyche that split off) can take control so that we cannot say no to it. Not, at least, until another, healthier adult (an aspect of the individual’s adult ego not severed from the essence or soul) is ready to replace the archetype as protector and companion to the “inner urchin.” We’ll talk more about addiction later in this book.
Ultimately, though, we need to separate the essential or “real” person from the introjects (qualities and beliefs from parents, priests, teachers, abusers, etc.) that one took on and eventually identified with; and in the same way, to separate the individual from the archetype, replacing it with the original essence that was always meant to guide the ego. To accomplish this, we need to return to the circus to find the characters someone identified with and to finally undo the original bargain. However, the circus that was so easy to find when we were children—when we were full of wonder, awe and imagination, and also desperate for protection—may not be so easy to find as an adult. So we use ritual ceremonies, symbols, fairy tales, dreams and intimacy with another human being to find it once more.
The circus characters with whom the trauma victim forms an alliance are really archetypes who can fulfill the victim’s needs that have arisen from the trauma: perhaps a sense of protection to allay existential fear, nurturance to soothe feelings of abandonment or proactivity to calm helplessness. This is why the circus character who is selected depends on the person, the trauma and the circumstance. Here are some examples of characters with whom a child may create this alliance:
THE BARKER
He reaches out with a hearty “Step right up,” calling passersby to come and “play the game.” He makes false promises, feeding the fantasies and hopes of family members. He is generally manipulative and not to be trusted. He knows how to tell “sweet little lies.” He’s the player who only loves you when he’s playing. People often buy what the barker is selling, only to leave the encounter disappointed, if not distraught. He knows that it is the sizzle that sells and, not having much steak to offer, may not pose an insurmountable obstacle to getting what he wants. Once you buy the ticket, he has turned his attention to the next opportunity.
THE FAT WOMAN
The Fat Woman eats and eats and eats some more, using all that fat to protect her from her emptiness within or from unwanted advances from men. She has found a perverse form of control in her life, a way to deny control to those who try to tell her what to do with her body. Perhaps her mother wants her to be thin and delicate like a ballet dancer or perhaps her father wants her to be tantalizing and sexy. She is creating a buffer from the truth, a shock absorber.
Frankie is a very overweight woman who is desperate to find answers for herself. She ran away to the circus and became the fat lady at a very young age. One reason for this is that she perceived her mother to be at the circus and it was the only place they could connect. So they hid together, cooking dinners, baking cookies and cakes and generally being the joyful fat ladies who loved to cook, eat and entertain others through food. Frankie presents herself as joyful, laughing and joking with others, and is a very sociable person in general. However, underneath, as is usually the case for the jovial fat person, we find a very depressed and self-deprecating woman with a lot of skills and talents that she herself does not recognize.
Frankie appears extremely uncomfortable in her own body and candidly will say that she would love to lose the weight but nothing has seemed to work for her.
When we rescued her from the circus so that she could begin to recognize her true feelings, she became aware of just how scared and empty she felt inside. There were so many messages from a very young age about how stupid she was, “Can’t you do anything right?” and “You’ll never amount to anything.” She felt shame and then she went immediately into shock, feeling numb and disconnected. We regressed her back to the source of the shame and she went back to being an infant, left alone in her crib with the bottle having fallen out of her mouth. No
