Awake at 5 a.m., thinking of this possibility – this goal, this plan, this dream, this path, this vision, this fantasy – of becoming a Jungian analyst.
It is still hard to tell which of those various things it is... but right now I'm thinking: probably a fantasy.
I'll continue to check into it – web research is hardly enough; Melinda says she knows a woman up here who will know more – but I suspect that it is really a place holder, a marker, for a larger desire to go somewhere more interesting in my life. Which, given my situation in the past six years, is hardly surprising.
Here is the question formulated to help myself decide just how real it is: If I were living in a busier environment, with more friends around, events, groups I was involved in, things I was doing for work or leisure or such – if I were, in fact, living in a city where a program in training in Jungian analysis were actually available – would I still want to do it?
Given that such training probably involves at least six, seven or more years of tuition, clinical work, analysis, all of which would almost certainly have to take place somewhere other than here (because it's not offered here)... the closest possible location would probably be Edinburgh, and even that might not work – the truth is this is a fairly difficult thing to do anywhere in the UK that's not London. And many, many train trips would cost much money, and be stressful, and to some extent impossible to keep up with over a long time, given that I do have responsibilities here.
I suspect that, given the fact that it would take more years than I had thought, and that it would require money that's not really lying around here – although large parts of that six or seven or so years sound just fine to me – the whole is probably too vast a commitment, and one that stretches out too far from where I am now. Although I like the idea of a second career, and this one would be pretty wonderful, I'm not delighted at some of its realities – including getting involved with a new set of institutions and conflicts and limitations and bureaucracies.
This idea is probably more of a desire to get out, to do something different, something worth while. (And perhaps, embarrassingly but typically, it's an avoidant move away from writing this book – in fact it is probably that, given my normal patterns.) (Oh, and if you were going to tell me that a University lecturer does do something worth while – yes, of course, perhaps; but I might agree more strongly about that if I were in a place that needed me more, used me more and for more sophisticated things, and responded more strongly to the abilities I have to offer.)
It's a bit disappointing to think of it in these terms. But not shattering, and not depressing: at least I imagined something that seemed really worth doing. And started to realize that I may need larger goals – that I need something better, something bigger, to aim for, than merely surviving the bureaucratic requirements of a provincial university.
Even if only in my imagination....
