Active imagination

In the years after his break with Freud in 1913, Carl Jung did something few psychiatrists of his time would have dared. Instead of analyzing his fantasies from the outside, he let them unfold, and talked with the figures that appeared.

One of them, an old man with the wings of a kingfisher whom Jung called Philemon, became a kind of inner teacher. Jung later wrote that Philemon showed him that the figures of the mind have a life of their own: they say things you didn't know you thought. He called this way of working active imagination.

There is little formal research on active imagination itself. Related approaches that have people speak to a part of themselves, like Gestalt's empty chair, have some support. Take it as a reflective practice, not a treatment.

Many people find that anxiety, given a voice, turns out to be trying to protect them, clumsily. That changes the relationship: it's easier to say "thanks, I've got this" to a guard dog than to fight a monster.

If the image becomes frightening or overwhelming, stop, open your eyes and come back to the room. This is for everyday feelings, not for going back into trauma alone.

Owen tries active imagination with the dread he feels about starting a new job. The image that comes is an old night watchman with a lantern, pacing outside his bedroom. Owen asks him what he wants. The watchman says, "Somebody has to stay awake. Last time you relaxed, you got let go." Owen writes it down, then thinks, "This is silly," closes the notebook and goes to make tea.