Journal of Analytical Psychology, 2021, 66, 3, 605–619

Reflections on a wounded and bleeding

temenos

Robin B. Zeiger, Israel

Abstract: COVID-19, Black Lives Matter, and financial and political turmoil have
uprooted our sense of personal and collective safety and predictability. Analysts are
faced with professional and personal challenges, as well as a charge to help make sense
of this new normal. This reflective piece focuses on the author’s thoughts on a wounded
and bleeding temenos. She grapples with the new reality of analysis carried out via
technology (e.g. Zoom or telehealth). The article interweaves personal experiences with
theoretical and professional reflections on two Jewish myths that relate to creating
temenos or sacred space in the face of ancient disasters. Specifically, she discusses Choni
HaMagel, a first-century BCE Jewish scholar and miracle-maker who prays for relief
from a drought from inside a sacred circle. She also tells the tale of four Chassidic
Rebbes who face crisis from a sacred space in the forest. The author frames this piece
with two personal and numinous dreams dreamt during the pandemic; one offering
scenes of destruction and one offering hope for a future transformation.

Keywords: Chassidic stories, COVID-19, destructive, dreams, telehealth, temenos,

therapeutic space, transformation, Zoom

You might feel:

I’m not quite here or there, but in between, somewhere.
I’ve got nothing or too much to do and no place to go.
Or something isn’t quite right in my soul.
You’ll have to sit and face the void.
Face your fidgeting, your fussing and your feelings.
Face the lot.
We’re so used to filling space,
that we lose the simplicity of each moment’s grace.
Confidence grows with awareness.
And that’s the magic within.
The power of presence,
herein, found in the spaces in between1

1
Thank you to the poet Catherine Simmons for permission to quote relevant selections from her
poem.

0021-8774/2021/6603/605 © 2021, The Society of Analytical Psychology

Published by Wiley Publishing, 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UK and 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA.
DOI: 10.1111/1468-5922.12677
606 Robin B. Zeiger

Introduction
As an analyst, I resonate with this image from this poet. I am caught up in the
experience of wandering around the in-between spaces. Again, and again, I
shrug my shoulders and with humility say, ‘I just don’t know’. I am a bit
weary, yet I am blessed to hold onto the hope of the night for the rising sun.
I discover images of a wounded and bleeding temenos. It is the temenos of
Anima Mundi: a world soul turned upon her side, reaching for the breath
of life. It is the disruption of our personal sense of safety. It is the devastation
of financial loss. It is the painful reckoning of our race relations and the
neglect of our world refugees. I read voraciously and speak to colleagues and
friends. I seek out images in art and theatre. I have a need to reach out to the
general masses with my writings. (Zeiger, April 7, 11, 20, July 3, 2020).
I reach for understanding from deep inside my soul. Yet, I am left with an
image of a holy space with holes and a door that doesn’t quite close.
Suddenly masks and lockdown and Zoom and phones enter the sanctity of
the analytic space. The intrusive uncanny technological third of dropped calls
and shadowy faces replaces the therapeutic gaze (Dettbarn 2013; Zeavin
2020). Suddenly we can’t see or hear very well. At times, our boundaries are
blurred. ‘Our inside’ and ‘our outside’ become mixed-up and must be sorted
through once again in new and creative ways.
The whole world is faced with the chaos of COVID-19. There appears to be
no place on earth to hide away. It is inevitable that at times our personal pain as
analysts overlaps the trauma of our analysands. Jungians bear a respect for the
necessity and contribution of the archetype of wounded healer
(Groesbeck 1975). As analysis progresses, our analysands often grow to value
our humanity and woundedness. Yet, too much, too early is detrimental to
creating safety and needed containment for the work. Currently, as therapists
we are challenged to preserve good enough working boundaries. As these new
times come upon us with a fury, we are left bereft of enough time and space
to lick our own wounds. We struggle with the loss of an illusion that analysis
can provide a safe cocoon of transformation. It is crucial that we stop, deeply
introspect, and take stock before running ahead full steam. We must create
new paradigms for the analytic process.

Dreaming of an alien force

I am a prolific dreamer. My dream psyche is a familiar and trusted psychopomp
and I wake up anticipating the next installment in my theatre of the soul. In
early February, ‘unknowingly’ I met temenos destruction for the first time in
my night sea journey. I awoke shaken to the core from a difficult and
extremely puzzling nightmare. In summary:
Reflections on a wounded and bleeding temenos 607

I am in my office with a former patient, herself an accomplished and empathic

therapist. I am wearing white. The radio is on, although it is the Jewish Shabbat
(Sabbath), a time I would neither see patients, nor listen to the radio. I look outside
the window and am horrified by what I see. There is a row of tree stumps bereft of
their branches, which have been perfectly cut off. What is most disturbing and eerie
to me, is that there are absolutely no remnants of this devastation of nature. And I
understand an alien force has arrived. I comprehend that my patient and I must
quickly escape. Many details follow in which I try to secure forged papers to run
away to Iceland. Sadly, I understand I must leave quickly without my family. I
associate to the period of the Holocaust.

At the time of the dream, to my conscious mind, there were no clear

precipitants for the dream. COVID-19 was still in its ‘infancy’ and had not
yet arrived at our country. Yet, as I sat with this dream for a bit and the
pandemic arrived with a vengeance, I reflected upon Jung’s big images of
devastation prior to World War I. I asked myself why Iceland and I
wondered if it was the farthest place I could imagine. I was compelled to
check the COVID-19 statistics and found Iceland was not hit as badly as
other countries. In fact, as I write this article, my husband points out that
Iceland has returned to status as a green country.
Each time I re-enter this dream space, I seem to discover layers of additional
meaning. I reflect upon the words of Hillman (1992), ‘I dream and experience
my dreams as inside me and yet at the same time I walk around in my dreams
and am inside them’ (p. 23). In my wanderings, I begin to understand this is a
numinous dream. Iceland takes on hints of a ‘prophetic voice’. Perhaps I was
meant to touch the tip of the iceberg: the emerging world panic of an alien
virus that could uproot and devastate us again and again. I am reminded of
the unknowable that is somehow known (Crowther & Schmidt 2015) and of
Jung’s thoughts on the seemingly alien forces that guide creativity from places
deep inside (Jung 1922).

Temenos disrupted
As I write this paper, I have become captivated by the introduction of the
dream, something I had almost ignored until now. I was puzzled as to why I
needed my patient in my office, listening to a radio with me. In reality, if there
is an emergency, I would keep a radio on even on the Sabbath. The holy
Jewish Shabbat is a spiritual temenos that symbolizes and helps actualize
safety and rejuvenation. Tradition teaches us we are blessed with an
additional neshama (soul) that resides inside of us for the day (see Chabad.
org, accessed October 1, 2020). This holy nature is hinted at by my white
clothing, a traditional color of the Shabbat representing purity and simplicity,
and perhaps naivety. Like me, this patient is an observant Jew and also values
the Sabbath.
608 Robin B. Zeiger

In this dream, a frightening and fierce alien force from outside of our therapy
temenos has done violence to the positive and growth-producing forces of
Mother Nature and of world safety. There is a Holocaust-like terror in the
dream scene. By default, the danger has leaked into the therapy room via the
windows.
Only now do I sense an ironical foreshadowing here. In my country, already
devastated by a second lockdown, psychologists have been designated as
essential medical personnel. We are allowed to continue our work face to
face, and if distanced, without masks. Thus, we are presented with a
sometimes very difficult choice. Some of my more elderly or health-challenged
colleagues have moved exclusively to on-line therapy. My practice is wounded
with some patients who have lost jobs and thus chosen not to continue their
analytic work. Some have become pre-occupied with the pandemic. Yet others
have continued on in their process, working on dreams and symbolic
material, in between lockdowns and sometimes forced isolation due to being
exposed to a sick other. Yet, again and again, COVID-19 images and dread
emerge in both the concrete and symbolic content.
I reflect about the horror of the window scene in my dream. Those of us who
chose to conduct in-person therapy work with air-conditioning on full blast,
with the windows and doors to the outside wide open. Perhaps there is more
than a crack in the temenos; there is a full-blown rupture.
In my humility, I know one thing; I must attend to the ‘four walls of analysis’.
I am the steward of this space and the humble holder of a small ‘collection of
keys’ in service of the symbolic life. My journey beckons me to continue
searching for meaning and hope in the blackest and dustiest of places of the
soul. I must attempt to grasp hold of a semblance of safety and sanity within
each therapeutic hour.
Less than a year ago, I would have asserted one of the safest places in the
world is often found within the four walls of the analyst’s office.
Zeiger (2018) reflects on the message of dreamscapes of transformation in
another crisis, that of war. She reflects: ‘At the most crucial of times,
we sometimes must retreat to a womb-like, safe place [that of the
therapist’s office]. The womb on the outside helps us find the womb on the
inside’ (p. 21). Here I grasp onto my understanding of participation mystique
and therapeutic reverie; the place of ‘seeing and holding’, the space of the
music and cadence of the analyst’s voice (Neumann 2002; Winborn 2014;
Ogden 1997). Here is the place where the analyst enters the dirty bathwaters
and suffers with the patient in order for the healing to occur. I remember my
experience of safety in my personal analytic process. And I remind myself that
I cannot go missing into the void of fear and dread; rather I am energized
with a charge to make a difference.
Perhaps I am most taken by the issue of rage and potential destruction. As
analysts we are aware of the necessity of anger and rage as a possibility in the
analytic process. If needed, a patient is afforded permission to rage at the
Reflections on a wounded and bleeding temenos 609

therapist, while the therapist holds the space and enables transformation. In a
strange turn of events, the symbolic has suddenly become actualized. Patient
and analyst become aware of a potentially deadly temenos for both players.
There is a very real fear that COVID-19 can enter the room and lead to
illness and/or death. And in fact, one of my Jungian colleagues was infected,
and thankfully recovered from COVID-19, via a patient. This is a hard cross
to bear.
As we are faced with technology and the big bad virus that invades the space,
I find myself searching again and again for flames of archetypal images to bring
light to darkness. I am inspired by two radically different but perhaps
complementary myths from my own spiritual tradition.

Choni the Circle-Maker: creating temenos in the first century BCE

The first is a story of Choni HaMagel, Choni the Circle-Maker, a first century
BCE famed Jewish scholar and miracle-maker mentioned in the Babylonian
Talmud. It is many moons since I first ‘met’ Choni. I have always been
captivated by his story and his charm, yet now his story bears additional
meaning.
We are introduced to Choni as the Jews, residents of a desert country, struggle
with the life and death situation of drought and famine. A summary of the story
from the Babylonian Talmud, Taanit 19a, is found below:

It once happened that they petitioned Choni the Circle-Maker, ‘Pray that rain should
fall’.
Said Choni to them, ‘Go, bring your Passover ovens indoors, so that they should not
dissolve’.
Choni prayed, but no rain fell. What did he do? He drew a circle, stood inside it, and
said to God: ‘Master of the Universe! Your children turned to me because I am like a
member of Your household. I swear by Your great name that I’m not budging from
here until You have compassion on Your children’!
A rain began to drizzle.
Said Choni: ‘That’s not what I asked for. I asked for rains to fill the cisterns, trenches
and reservoirs’.
The rains started coming down in torrents.
Said Choni: ‘That’s not what I asked for. I asked for rains of goodwill, blessing and
generosity’.
A proper rain began to fall. But it continued to fall until the Jews went out of
Jerusalem up onto the Temple Mount, because of the flooding caused by the rains.
So, they came to Choni and said: ‘Just as you prayed that the rains should fall, now
pray that they should go away’.
Said he to them: ‘Go and see if the Stone of Claims2 has dissolved yet’.

2
The Stone of Claims was akin to an ancient space of lost and found. It was a known place in
Jerusalem that rested in a high place. Whoever found an item brought it there and whoever lost
an item travelled there to look for it. The person who lost an item stood and offered identifying
information in order to prove the item was his/hers. (Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzia, 28a).
610 Robin B. Zeiger

Rav Shimon ben Shetach sent a message to Choni: ‘If not for the fact that you are
Choni, I would have issued a decree of excommunication against you. But what can
I do against you, who nags the Almighty and He fulfills your wish, like a child who
nags his father and his father fulfills his wish …’.

It is clear the rabbis were very ambivalent about Choni’s chutzpah or daring
with God. Who is he to challenge the Divine plan of the universe? Who is he
to argue with the Divine Creator and the Ruling Judge? Yet, as an analyst
who believes in the importance of the I-Thou relationship (Buber 1987) with
our Selves, our fellow human beings and our Creator, I believe Choni is in
good company. Like Abraham who learns of the potential destruction of
Sodom (Genesis, 18), Moses faced with God’s fury at the Jewish people of the
desert (Exodus, 32: 9-14), and with Channa, mother of Samuel struggling
with her own infertility (Babylonian Talmud Brachot, 31b), it is not possible
to remain passive and silent. Although we are told we cannot see the face of
the Divine and live (Exodus, 33: 20), we attempt to become partners in the
world story. I need Choni to remind me not to remain passive and silent.
As an analyst, I am fascinated by the ceremony of the circle-making and invite
myself in active imagination to enter this space that bespeaks of the Uroboros
and the Great Round. I suspend my 21st century knowledge. As a ‘mouse in
the corner’, akin to my attempts to enter dreamscapes of the night
(Bosnak 1998), I imagine Choni outside in a hot, dry and parched wasteland
of a desert. He has been given a heavy charge to save a nation. And
somehow, he intuits how to create a temenos or holy space of transformation.
I am reminded of a birthday journey I took many years ago to the banks of the
Mediterranean Sea close to our house. I am a sandplay therapist and I grew up
along the banks of Lake Michigan. I had a deep desire to create a sandplay
scene with a birthday gift on the shores. I was startled to discover I could not
even begin to work until I had drawn a circle in the sand of the vast beach.
With this act of my hands, I embodied temenos in both a new and known way.
Choni attempted to demarcate the outside from the inside. Perhaps he
intuitively knew how to distinguish between the holy and the mundane.
Judaism uses the word kaddosh to designate holiness. It is a word that comes
from the root to ‘separate’. Judaism demarcates increasing levels of holiness
from object to space to time (Heschel 2005). As therapists we know that
creating temenos that is safe and bounded, allows for the birth of something
new. There is outside the work/room and inside the work/room. And then
there is the third space that allows for the transcendent function and
transformation.

The challenge of technology

In my mind’s eye, as I watch Choni’s strange ritual and communication with his
Maker, I am left with a few lessons. Like Choni, when faced with crisis, we must
Reflections on a wounded and bleeding temenos 611

become creative. As numerous analysts point out, depth psychology can

continue in spite of technology. Many of these articles were written pre-
COVID-19, when the introduction of technology was experienced as a
necessary choice. As an example, analysis and/or analytic training was far
away and/or inaccessible. Both trainees and analyst often state that the
treatment of choice is in-person. Analysts combined teleanalysis with some
in-person sessions. Recent articles have begun to take the bull by the horns
and deal with the new reality of on-line therapy by necessity (Russell 2020;
Svenson 2020; Bekes et al. 2020). Therapists are forced to make decisions
and changes based on emergency mode. In some countries and in some
situations, there is no choice. We can either abandon ship or figure out how
to ‘plug up the leaking holes’.
It is crucial that we hone our intuition and countertransference sense to ‘feel
and hear and see’ the nuances of the technology (e.g. Zeavin 2020). Scharff
(2013) edits an excellent pre-COVID-19 collection of reflections on
psychoanalysis online. The articles provide a balanced perspective on the pros
and cons of using technology in analysis. In the words of one of the analysts:

For years I concentrated on how telephone analysis affected my patients and what
meaning it had for them, but retrospectively I can see that in the process something
important happened to me as well. I also made an important life transition from an
analyst who accepted without much questioning the received theories of our field to
one who adapts our theories to the special needs of individual patients in order to
help them progress towards their goals. … Rather than seeing telephone analysis as
a transgression, I believe that working on the telephone has allowed me to think
more creatively about how I work with my patients.

(Blum 2013, p. 50)

Two particularly excellent articles were written by analysts who had trained via
a combination of teleanalysis and travel to see their analysts in person (Benaim
et al. 2013; Anderson 2013). Thus, these authors could respond from both sides
of the couch. Anderson (2013) offers interesting reflections on the transference
that occurred perhaps both in spite of and because of the technological
challenges. He reflects upon his experience of two ‘analysts’ (one in person
and one via teleanalysis) that eventually became integrated towards the end of
his process. As an example:

In the beginning, I was anxious each time I called, wondering if my analyst would be
there to answer the phone. One of the ways I would occupy myself in my anxiety in the
early phase of the analysis was to focus on the telephone as a medium. I would listen to
the quality of the phone line connection. I would concentrate on the type of sounds on
the line and the noise of the interference, which could be different from day to day. I
also had to deal with the paranoid fantasies that someone might be listening in to
my conversations with my analyst. The rational side of my mind would chime in,
saying, ‘If they are they must be terribly bored listening to my free associations
612 Robin B. Zeiger

every day’. These reactions were in marked contrast to what it was like to go to the
analyst’s office for the in-person sessions. There I would distract myself by looking
around the office from her couch. I would pay attention to the smells and textures
and the objects in the room that I could see. Both reactions made use of my
experience of the environment of the analysis in a defensive fashion. I was
protecting myself from feelings of attachment to and dependency on the analyst. The
way in which these were different in person and on the telephone continued as a
theme for exploration throughout the analysis. In some ways it felt like two different
analyses and in other ways it was definitely a unified experience of one analysis.

(Anderson 2013, p. 211)

Rather than just accepting the differences, we must develop a sixth sense of
transference and countertransference that allows the technological third to
enter the room. We must be flexible, aware, and innovative. Many of the
articles focus upon psychoanalysis. However, there are some that speak more
directly from a Jungian perspective (e.g. Merchant 2016) on the effects of
technology.
I reflect upon two beautiful and perhaps complementary articles of Henry
Abramovitch (1997, 2002), a Jungian analyst who speaks about temenos
interruption from different angles. Both are highly reflective and moving
accounts guided by a compassionate analyst. Abramovitch (2002) recounts a
deeply touching story of a patient of his who was a Holocaust survivor and
lost her only daughter in a tragic accident. As Abramovitch planned for a
brief Sabbatical, he worried about this patient and the effects of a perceived
abandonment. Like Choni who drew the circle and dared, Abramovitch
reached inside of himself and offered his patient a creative option, the
opportunity to water his plants while he was gone. This symbolic gesture of
caring made all the difference in the world.
Again and again, I read in the literature of the plausibility of psychoanalysis
using technology. Yet, I must admit this deep and persistent discomfort.
Sometimes our defences provide a ‘defensive answer’ when there appears to
be no other way.
My hesitations arise from a place of embodied memory deep inside of me. It is
crucial that analysts know about analysis from inside their own personal
therapy. Only when we experience the reverie of the analyst’s holding and
gaze, can we too build the I-Thou relationship (Buber 1987) that is necessary
for work of the soul.
Erel Shalit, a trusted mentor, fellow Jungian and deep thinker, died before his
time. Thus, like my forays with Choni I can only imagine his reactions to a
COVID-19 world. His next to last book Human Soul (Lost) in Transition at
the Dawn of a New Era (2018), published posthumously, grapples with the
loss of soul in our modern world of technology. With compassion and insight,
he contrasts the slow and thoughtful work of the psyche with the transient
personality that becomes caught up in a world of immediacy and technology.
Reflections on a wounded and bleeding temenos 613

He warns of the dangers of losing the simple moments of creative and soulful
life, such as fishing and craftsmanship. In quoting from his introduction, I
hear the echoes of his warning now:

The aim of this book is to present a depth psychological perspective on phenomena

pertaining to the present, postmodern era. As such, its origins are in the depths;
symbolically, in the depths of the waters, in which the sacred is reflected. Likewise,
this book centers around the image, which has traveled from the forbidden zone of
the transcendent command ‘make no graven image’, (Exodus, 20:4) through the
interiority of the human soul, to become an exteriorized, computerized,
robot-generated image that virtualizes as well as augments reality.

(Shalit 2018, p. 8)

I look at Shalit’s next paragraph, as the world struggles with COVID-19, and I
am struck by his reference to future viruses.

While listening to the brilliant young men and women at the forefront of today’s
applied science, those who hold the trigger to the chips and the apps of the future,
one cannot refrain from being amazed at their confident conviction that technology
is the remedy of all ills and the foundation of future virtues, unaware that
unrestrained technology may equally be the platform for future viruses. [italics mine]

(Shalit 2018, p. 9)

In an eerie sort of way, this statement of future viruses sounds a bit prophetic.
Suddenly a world that is too busy and too frantic and terribly neglectful of the
natural space we inhabit is pushed to her knees. We must stop in our tracks,
withdraw and cocoon inside. If there is one positive comment I hear again and
again about the pandemic, it is the sudden slowing of life and the necessity of
asking what is really important. I remember the first time I stood again at the
seashore after our first lockdown and I was deeply grateful for the simple moment.

The Holy Rebbes and the loss of the temenos

I must offer one last teaching story from our tradition about the wise Chassidic
Rebbes3 who prayed for the simple people.

3
In Jewish tradition, sages and leaders who have achieved a certain level of learning receive the title
‘Rabbi’. The word Rebbe is a variation of the word and means ‘my teacher’. It is often used to
convey warmth and personal attachment. A rabbi can achieve levels of understanding. But, in a
sense, a Rebbe is typically chosen by the love of the people. Chassidut is a sect of Judaism that
th
developed in the 18 century to bring balance and compensation to the more logical, text-based,
and legalistic focus of learning in Judaism. The Chassidic movement in contrast, placed emphasis
on the faith and dedication of the simple folks. Chassidic stories often bring teachings via
parables aimed at laypeople.
614 Robin B. Zeiger

Whenever the Jews were threatened with disaster, the Baal Shem Tov would go to a
certain place in the forest, light a fire, and say a special prayer. Always a miracle
would occur, and the disaster would be averted.
In later times when the disaster threatened the Maggid of Mezritch, his disciple, would
go to the same place in the forest and say, ‘Master of the Universe, I do not know how
to light the fire, but I can say the prayer’. And again, the disaster would be averted.
Still later, his disciple, Moshe Leib of Sasov, would go to the same place in the forest
and say, ‘Lord of the World, I do not know how to light the fire or say the prayer,
but I know the place and that must suffice’. And it always did.
When Israel of Rizhyn needed intervention from heaven, he would say to God, ‘I no
longer know the place, nor how to light the fire, nor how to say the prayer, but I
can tell the story and that must suffice’.
And it did.

(Version from Frankel 1989, p. 551)

For the Chassidim, the story had to suffice. For me, this story carries both the
flame of hope and the tears of longing and sadness. I hope we do not lose the
place or the words or the ‘alchemical fire’ of analysis. My original dream
brought from the unconscious a ghastly and frightening image of the
destruction of Mother Nature. Sometimes trees must be chopped down and
destroyed in order to build something new. Yet, sometimes as humans, we
destroy our forests and help perpetuate our own disaster. We must have the
internal and integrated wisdom of our head and our heart to know when and
where to destroy and to build.
Technology can help. It can provide hope to people who are alone or far way
or in lockdown. It is sometimes a necessity. But I refuse to forget the safety of
my chair in my analyst’s office. I don’t want to forget her eyes gazing at me
from across the room. I don’t want to forget the holiness of each individual
space we create between analyst and analysand that is like no other in the
world.

Pregnant with Tikva – hope

I began with a nightmare. As Hillman (1979) so aptly points out many of our
dreams of the night are forays into the world of death and destruction. Yet,
thankfully our psyche also offers hope and direction if we are quiet enough to
listen. About a month after my nightmarish attempt to run away to Iceland, I
was visited with a beautiful dream image summarized below. Throughout
most of my analytic training, I merited to work with a gifted and intuitive
training analyst who is in her 90’s. She herself sat at the feet of the past
generation (i.e. Erich Neumann). From time to time, I still consult with her
because I must. I suspect in this dream, she holds a projection of my better Self.

I am meeting with this supervisor whom I will call Tikva (for hope). I was telling her I
didn’t need to meet her so often anymore. Tikva is getting rid of some old books and
Reflections on a wounded and bleeding temenos 615

offering them to me. In another scene I see Tikva with her hand on her belly sitting
comfortably in a chair. She is pregnant with a girl. I am excited and reflect upon
how amazing it is that she is probably the oldest person to give birth. I am a bit
worried and assume she will have a C-section. And as I write down the dream I am
brought to the image of Sarah, Abraham’s wife, who miraculously gave birth at the
age of 90 after being blessed by God.

My psyche has given me a gift of wonder and amazement. Tikva is a Holocaust

survivor. She has been initiated by ‘fire’ and she succeeds in making her life into
a blessing, with newness and birth each day. In consort with her life vision, my
dream psyche gifts me pregnancy and the possibility of birth. We are faced with
death and devastation and the wounded temenos. But our Divine Soul reminds
us again and again of hope and relationship and rebirth.

References
Abramovitch, H. (1997). ‘Temenos lost: reflections on moving’. Journal of Analytical
Psychology. 42, 569-84.
——— (2002). ‘Temenos regained: reflections on the absence of the analyst’. Journal of
Analytical Psychology, 47, 583-98.
Anderson, G.C. (2013). ‘A male analyst reflects on teleanalysis when a candidate’. In
Psychoanalysis Online: Mental Health, Teletherapy, & Training, ed. J.S. Scharff
(pp. 209-14). London: Karnac.
Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzia, 28a.
Babylonian Talmud, Brachot, 31b.
Babylonian Talmud, Taanit 19a.
Bekes, V., Aafjes-van Doorn, K., Prout, T.A. & Hoffman, L. (2020). ‘Stretching
the analytic frame: analytic therapists’ experiences with remote therapy during
COVID-19’. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association, 68, 3, 437-46.
Benaim, B.S., de Valerla, Y.G., Setton, L.S. & Anonymous. (2013). ‘Four women analysts
reflect on their teleanalysis when candidates’. In Psychoanalysis Online: Mental
Health, Teletherapy & Training, ed. J.S. Scharff (pp. 195-206). London: Karnac.
Blum, S.Z. (2013). ‘Musings on therapy and technology’. In Psychoanalysis Online:
Mental Health, Teletherapy & Training, ed. J.S. Scharff (pp. 49-56). London, Karnac.
Bosnak, R. (1998). A Little Course in Dreams. Boston: Shambhala Publications.
Buber, M. (1987). I and Thou. (2nd Edition). New York: Collier Books, MacMillan
Publishing Company.
Chabad.org. https://www.chabad.org/kabbalah/article_cdo/aid/380636/jewish/The-
Additional-Shabbat-Soul.htm. Accessed October 1, 2020.
Crowther, C. & Schmidt, M. (2015). ‘States of grace: Eureka moments and the
recognition of the unthought known’. Journal of Analytical Psychology, 60, 1, 54-74.
Dettbarn, I. (2013). ‘Skype as the uncanny third’. In Psychoanalysis Online: Mental
Health, Teletherapy, & Training, ed. J.S. Scharff (pp. 15-24). London, Karnac.
Exodus. (1949). The Pentateuch and Rashi’s Commentary: a Linear Translation into
English. Pennsylvania: Jewish Publication Society.
Frankel, E. (1989). The Classic Tales: 4000 Years of Jewish Lore. New Jersey: Jason
Aronson.
Genesis. (1976) The Pentateuch and Rashi’s Commentary: a Linear Translation into
English. Pennsylvania: Jewish Publication Society.
Groesbeck, C.J. (1975). ‘The archetypal image of the wounded healer’. Journal of
Analytical Psychology, 20, 2, 122-45.
616 Robin B. Zeiger

Heschel, A.J. (2005). The Sabbath: its Meaning for Modern Man. New York: Strauss &
Giroux.
Hillman, J. (1979). The Dream and the Underworld. New York: Harper & Row.
——— (1992). Re-Visioning Psychology. New York: Harper Perennial.
Jung, C.G. (1922). ‘On the relation of analytical psychology to poetry’. CW 15.
Merchant, J. (2016). ‘The use of skype in analysis and training: a research and literature
review’. Journal of Analytical Psychology, 61, 3, 209-328.
Neumann, E. (2002). The Child: Structure & Dynamics of the Nascent Personality.
London: Karnac. Kindle Edition.
Ogden, T. (1997). Reverie and Imagination. New Jersey: Jason Aronson.
Russell, G.I. (2020). ‘Remote working during the pandemic: a Q&A with Gillian Isaacs
Russell’. British Journal of Psychotherapy, 36, 3, 364-74.
Svenson, K. (2020). ‘Teleanalytic therapy in the era of COVID-19: dissociation in the
Countertransference’. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association, 68, 3,
447-54.
Scharff, J.S. (Ed.) (2013). Psychoanalysis Online: Mental Health, Teletherapy, &
Training. London: Karnac.
Shalit, E. (with contributions by Furlotti, N.S.). (2018). The Human Soul (Lost) in
Transition at the Dawn of a New Era. North Carolina: Chiron.
Simmons, C. (2017). ‘There is magic in the spaces in between’. Elephant Journal. January
10. Retrieved from: https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/01/there-is-magic-in-the-
spaces-in-between-poem/#comments
Winborn, M. (2014). ‘Watching the clouds: analytic reverie and participation mystique’.
In Shared Realities: Participation Mystique and Beyond, ed. M. Winborn (pp. 70-96).
Oklahoma: Fisher King.
Zeavin, L. (2020). ‘Can you see me?’ Journal of the American Psychoanalytic
Association, 68, 3, 467-70.
Zeiger, R.B. (2018). ‘Window shades and bad guys: dreamscapes of transformation in
the face of war’. Quadrant, 48, 1, 11-24.
——— (April 7, 2020a). ‘Tree stumps in the night: destruction & hope in the time of
COVID-19’. https://medium.com/@rbzeiger/tree-stumps-in-the-night-destruction-
hope-in-the-time-of-covid-19-725afd5066fc
——— (April 11, 2020b). ‘Creating a solid core in difficult times’. https://medium.com/
@rbzeiger/creating-a-solid-core-in-difficult-times-e4568e3fb620
——— (April 20, 2020c). ‘The blooming tree: belief in the morning after coronavirus’.
https://medium.com/@rbzeiger/the-blooming-tree-belief-in-the-morning-after-
coronavirus-20f0f02b6bb3
——— (July 3, 2020d). ‘Finding our voice & breath: Dr. Fanny Brewster speaks “to me”
on George Floyd’s last breath’. https://medium.com/@rbzeiger/finding-our-voice-
breath-e1fb8c57c75e

TRANSLATIONS OF ABSTRACT

La COVID-19, le mouvement Black Lives Matter, et l’agitation politique et financière

ont déraciné notre sentiment de sécurité personnelle et collective, ainsi que le caractère
prévisible dans notre expérience. Les analystes font face à des défis professionnels et
personnels, et à la responsabilité d’aider à donner du sens à cette nouvelle normalité.
Ce travail réflectif s’articule autour des pensées de l’auteur concernant un téménos
Reflections on a wounded and bleeding temenos 617

blessé, qui perd son sang. L’auteur se confronte à la nouvelle réalité de l’analyse,
pratiquée par le biais de la technologie (par exemple zoom). L’article entremêle les
expériences personnelles et les réflexions théoriques et professionnelles sur deux
mythes Juifs qui parlent de la création d’un téménos ou espace sacré dans une
situation de désastres antiques. Elle étudie Honi HaMe’aguel, érudit Juif et faiseur de
miracles du premier siècle avant J.C., qui prie - à partir d’un cercle sacré - pour le
soulagement d’une terrible sècheresse. Elle évoque également le récit de quatre Rabbins
Hassidiques qui font face à une crise à partir d’un espace sacré dans la forêt. L’auteur
structure son travail autour de deux rêves personnels numineux rêvés durant la
pandémie, l’un montrant des scènes de destruction et l’autre montrant l’espoir d’une
transformation future.

Mots clés: téménos, COVID-19, Zoom, contes hassidiques, rêves, espace thérapeutique,
destructif, transformation

COVID-19, Black Lives Matter sowie finanzielle und politische Turbulenzen haben
unser Gefühl für persönliche und kollektive Sicherheit und Vorhersehbarkeit
entwurzelt. Analytiker stehen vor beruflichen und persönlichen Herausforderungen wie
auch vor der Aufgabe, diese neue Normalität zu verstehen. Dieser dieses reflektierende
Beitrag konzentriert sich auf die Gedanken der Autorin zu einem verwundeten und
blutenden Temenos. Sie setzt sich mit der neuen Realität der Analyse auseinander, die
mit Hilfe von Technologien (z. B. Zoom oder Telemedizin) bewerkstelligt wird. Der
Artikel verwebt persönliche Erfahrungen mit theoretischen und professionellen
Überlegungen zu zwei jüdischen Mythen, die sich angesichts antiker Katastrophen auf
die Schaffung von Temenos oder heiligen Raumes beziehen. Insbesondere spricht sie
über Choni HaMagel, einen jüdischen Gelehrten und Wundertäter des ersten
Jahrhunderts vor Christus, der innerhalb eines heiligen Kreises um Hilfe gegen die
Dürre betet. Sie erzählt auch die Geschichte von vier chassidischen Rabbinern, die aus
einem heiligen Raum im Wald heraus einer Krise begegnen. Die Autorin umrahmt
dieses Stück mit zwei persönlichen und numinosen Träumen, die während der
Pandemie geträumt wurden, eine mit Szenen der Zerstörung und eine mit der Aussicht
auf Hoffnung auf einen zukünftigen Wandel.

Schlüsselwörter: Temenos, COVID-19, Zoom, Telemedizin, chassidische Geschichten,

Träume, therapeutischer Raum, zerstörerisch, Wandel

Il COVID-19, il Black Lives Matter ed il sommovimento finanziario e politico hanno

stravolto le nostre sicurezze personali e la capacità di fare previsioni. Gli analisti
devono confrontarsi con sfide professionali e personali, come pure il carico di dover
dare un senso a questa nuova normalità. Questo scritto si focalizza sui pensieri
dell’Autore su un temenos ferito e sanguinante. Ella si concentra sulla nuova realtà
delle analisi svolte attraverso la mediazione tecnologica (Zoom o telesalute). L’articolo
intreccia esperienze personali con riflessioni teoriche e professionali su due miti ebraici
che si riferiscono alla creazione di un temenos -o spazio sacro- di fronte ad antichi
disastri. Più specificamente, lei discute Choni HaMagel, uno studioso ebreo del primo
618 Robin B. Zeiger

secolo avanti Cristo anche uomo dei miracoli che prega per la fine della siccità
dall’interno di un cerchio sacro. L’Autrice racconta anche la storia dei quattro rabbini
che affrontarono la crisi da uno spazio sacro nella foresta. Lei collega questa storia
con due sogni personali e numinosi fatti durante la pandemia; uno che porta scene di
distruzione ed un altro che porta speranza e trasformazione.

Parole chiave: temenos, COVID-19, Zoom, telesalute, storie chassidiche, sogni, spazio
terapeutico, distruttivo, transformazione

Ковид-19, Black Lives Matter и финансовые и политические проблемы подорвали наше

ощущение личной и коллективной безопасности и предсказуемости. Аналитики
сталкиваются с профессиональными и личными сложностями, а также с
необходимостью разобраться в новой нормальности. В этой рефлексивной статье
представлены размышления автора о раненном и кровоточащем Теменосе и ее борьбе
с новой реальностью анализа, опосредованного технологиями (например, Zoom или
telehealth). В статье личный опыт переплетается с теоретическими и
профессиональными размышлениями о двух еврейских мифах о создании теменоса,
священного пространства в ситуации бедствий. В частности, обсуждается Хони
ХаМагель, еврейский ученый и чудотворец первого века до нашей эры, который
молился об окончании засухи, находясь внутри священного круга. Автор также
рассказывает притчу о четырех хасидских ребе, которые очутились в кризисной
ситуации и молились из священного места в лесу. Автор обрамляет этот рассказ
двумя личными нуминозными сновидениями, которые приснились во время пандемии,
в одном были сцены разрушения, в другом – надежда на будущую трансформацию.

Ключевые слова: теменос, ковид-19, Zoom, telehealth, хассидские притчи, сновидения,

терапевтическое пространство, деструктивное, трансформация

COVID-19, el movimiento Black Lives Matter, y la crisis política y financiera ha

removido nuestra sensación de seguridad y previsibilidad personal y colectiva, Los y
las analistas se confrontan con nuevos desafíos profesionales y personales, así como
con la carga de ayudar a crear algún sentido de esta nueva normalidad. Esta pieza
reflexiva se centra en los pensamientos del autor acerca de un herido y sangrado
temenos. Ella lidia con la nueva realidad del análisis llevado a cabo por vía de la
tecnología (Zoom o telesalud). El artículo integra experiencias personales con
reflexiones teóricas y profesionales sobre dos mitos judíos, que se relacionan con la
creación de un temenos o espacio sagrado frente a antiguos desastres. Específicamente,
describe Choni HaMagel, un erudito Judío del Siglo I AC y creador de milagros quien
reza pidiendo el alivio de una sequía desde dentro de un círculo sagrado. También
cuenta la historia de cuatro Rabi Jasídicos quienes confrontan una crisis desde un
espacio sagrado en el bosque. La autora estructura esta pieza con dos sueños
personales y numinosos, soñados durante la pandemia; uno ofreciendo escenas de
destrucción y otro, escenas de esperanza para una futura transformación.
Reflections on a wounded and bleeding temenos 619

Palabras clave: temenos, COVID-19, Zoom, telesalud, historias Jasídicas, sueños,

espacio terapéutico, destructivo, transformación

COVID-19, 黑人的命很重要, 经济和政治的扰乱动摇了我们个人与集体的安全感和可

预期感。分析师面临着专业与个人的挑战, 同时富有职责去帮助人们理解这种新的常
态。这篇反思专注于作者对受伤和流血的忒墨诺斯的思考。她专注于一个新的现实,
即透过通讯技术 (Zoom或telehealth)进行的分析。文章把个体经验和理论及专业反思
交织在一起, 讨论了两个犹太神话, 它们涉及到创造性的忒墨诺斯或是一个面向古老
灾难之时的神圣空间。作者还特别讨论了Choni HaMagel, 一世纪犹太化学工程学士及
奇迹创造者, 他在神圣圆圈之内祈祷久旱的消除。作者还讲述了一个关于四个犹太教
拉比的传说, 他们在森林中的神圣场所面对灾难。作者透过两个在疫情期间做的, 个
体的神圣梦境来组织文章的内容；这两个梦中的一个提供了对破坏性的感受, 一个提
供了对未来转化的希望。

关键词: 忒墨诺斯, COVID-19, Zoom, telehealth, 犹太教故事, 梦, 治疗空间, 破坏性,

转化