Oscillations in the Psychoanalytic Process:
A presentation by Paul Cooper, M.S., NCPsyA, LP
Reported by Thomas Wagner

After gazing a few minutes at a work of highly abstract art at a museum, one is often compelled to turn to one’s companion and offer a pithy comment in the interest of deconstructing its opaque form and illuminating its “real” meaning. But it is perhaps best to tolerate confusion , take it in, let meaning work its way through the unconscious without the benefit of linear interpretation.

It is this aspect of psychoanalysis that Paul Cooper addressed at a gathering sponsored by the Institute for Expressive Analysis on September 30th. In no way does he disavow the importance of psychoanalytic theory, but in doing the work of psychoanalysis there is an inevitable alternation between the interpretive mode and the experiencing mode. Thus, the title of Paul’s talk, Oscillations.

His long practice of Zen Buddhism has provided a grounding for the experiencing mode. It has facilitated his surrender to the oscillations, taking in impressions, “leading nowhere…yet, like deeply-planted seeds they remain buried and germinate out of sight until they sprout and blossom as oscillations deepen, diminish, and repeat.”

Oscillations occur in the psychoanalytic setting as they do in the meditation hall, often unnoticed, “between hope and despair, fragmentation and wholeness, depression and elation.” They “draw momentum from both inner and outer sources.” The practice of Zen Buddhism facilitates the non-attachment that permit the oscillations to do their work so that “whatever emerges can be accepted…With passing time the resulting encounters begin to touch an emerging, gnawing desire to get at ‘the something’ or the ‘no-thing’ inside of myself.”

“Buddhism and psychoanalysis converge, diverge, overlap, dovetail, dissolve, and intertwine.” There is no project here of merging psychoanalytic theory with Zen. They are complementary ways of enriching the experience of being human. They stimulate each other and fill in gaps. For instance, Paul notes that psychoanalysis attends to the emotions that are eschewed in Zen.

Although he does not use the terms, his ruminations on Zen practice offer an illuminating description of the subjective experience of even-hovering attention and working through.

We live in a society that discourages these processes. Suffering is covered over with drugs, celebrity worship, and instant make-overs. Psychoanalysis and Buddhism understand that suffering is part of the human condition and that the denial of suffering engenders more suffering. Paul’s talk is itself a sort of journey of the suffering self, with all of its destructions and reconstructions. As the discussant, Merle Molofsky, said, we must remember that “every form is rooted in our natural rhythms. Poetry, drumbeat, the rhythm of throwing a pot, of painting a line, of moving through space, is resonant with our breath, with our heartbeat. The art of psychoanalysis involves accepting what is offered.”

The task of the analyst is to tolerate non-understanding alongside the satisfactions of theoretical acuity. As Merle notes, Paul’s talk offers a challenge. “Not understanding Paul teaches us that we need to tolerate not understanding our analysands, and yet, in the oscillation of intuitive taking-in, we understand before we know we do, we understand that Paul has offered us an intensity of experience that allows us to realize that at any moment we can once again be with someone , with someone’s suffering, attuned to that person’s language and imagery and reaching out.”

Those who find these contradictions disconcerting may find solace in these lines from Walt Whitman: