“Today could be the day I die.” My teacher’s words resonate in the background as I sit in meditation. As waves, my thoughts come and go and I hold images of the changes in my body, happening since I was born. Life is by definition impermanent; its basic premise is uncertainty. I am reminded of Vuong’s (2022) reflection on his mother’s death, in which he beautifully describes “when a loved one dies, you experience your life in just two days: today, when they are no longer here, and yesterday, the immense vast yesterday, when they were here.” In his brief and spectacular take on grief and language, he reminds us that “death is the truest thing we have as it is the one thing we are all heading towards.” Between the day we are born and the unpredictable day on which we will die, we are left with this impossible task named life. Vuong teaches us that a sense of awe and joy makes living possible, in the most unthinkable circumstances. If living is worth anything, probably the best way to approach it is by finding a language to hold its small but precious moments of wonder. Voung, in facing the blank page with the courage of inking one word after the other, describes his creative encounter with a possibility to traverse grief, pain, dislocation, horror, fear, destructiveness, and the precariousness of our fragile human existence.
What is left of our work as psychoanalysts when the analytic dyad is faced with collective disruption? We are called upon to recognize uncertainty and claim its presence. We are called to bear its truth. Badawi (2011) reminds us that “When destructiveness is everywhere and we are faced with unpredictability, it is no longer a matter of holding on to the immutability of the setting; it is no longer a matter of developing a “thick skin” in order to “dominate ‘counter-transference’”; it is no longer a matter of “emotional coldness” (Freud, 1912e, p. 115); it is no longer a matter of interpreting and transforming. What is important is to be present. Present as a psychoanalyst … and remain as one. Remain as one and create” (Badawi, 2019, p. 408). As Badawi describes her encounters with patients while the war ranges everywhere, and they are strapped out of almost everything to be left with their bare humanness, this is the exact truth from which she draws in order to maintain her analytic presence. When the pair is faced with unpredictability, they are left to think creatively.
In this issue, our editorial board invited musings on “Creativity and Uncertainty” in response to the deeply unstable social times we are all living in. From intense ecological manifestations to an ongoing negotiation of the myriad impacts of a Pandemic, war also calls attention and requires our reflection. Moving away from a state of paralysis, we are called to engage with despair, desperation, and once more transformation. If there is hope, it lands on our human potential to gather pieces of what was once whole and create something new. Milner called this process “creative imagination”, as she drew our attention to the forces that “bring order out of chaos”(Millner, 1957, p.148).
As I embrace with wonder and awe the powerful certainty of death and the necessary uncertainty of life, I am left with the in-betweeness of my time on Earth and the blankness of a piece of paper in its waiting quality. Here we all were, when we took up the invitation to reflect, ponder, imagine, paint, and feel the deeply resonating uncertain fabric of living. As we cut through it, with an invisible thread of trust we sew the pieces into a hybrid vest that reveals and tells a story. This narrative will be alive much after we leave, moving through future generations and continuing to grow in unpredictable ways. Here we are, today, still living and experiencing the narratives of our ancestors and their impact on Earth and the textile of our social and cultural lives.
Our contributors offered us their narratives, their own way to receive, honor, and contend with their in-betweeness. Through their voices, our Editorial Board hopes you may find a place of landing, a floating anchor in a wavering sea.
As always, this issue was only possible with many volunteer hours of our actually ever-changing team. In the last few months, Rosalinda and Michael Taymor sadly departed our Committee. We have been deeply grateful to their contributions as editors, reviewers and consultants, and will miss their presence going forward. Rosalinda, however, will continue to offer her writing and painting contributions to our next issues. We also welcomed three new committee members. Elizabeth Papagni brings attentiveness and respectful responsiveness to our editing process. A doctoral candidate in Clinical Psychology at The Wright Institute, she has a great interest in psychoanalytic theory, and its interface with the fine, performing, and literary arts. Kylie Gamm offers us openness and truly honest dedication. She is a psychoanalytically-oriented clinician and first-generation college student from a rural community in SE Minnesota. She is a member of two psychoanalytic program committees and is interested in social psychoanalysis and field theory. Scott Perna is a post-seminar candidate at PINC, a great reader, and always interested in writing. He believes that working with Critica will allow him to think more creatively about the wider sense of moral and political uses of language that underscore our clinical assumptions.
Their energy, enthusiasm, and vibrant presence will offer Critica many opportunities to grow. I am thankful to have such an interesting group of editors who are deeply committed to making Critica an inclusive platform for welcoming the uncertainty and creativity inherent to being alive.
References:
Badawi, M. K. (2011) Being, Thinking, Creating: When War Attacks the Setting and the Transference Counter-Attacks. International Journal of Psychoanalysis 92:401-409
Milner, M. (1957). On Not Being Able to Paint. Madison: International Universities Press.Voung, O. (2022, April 3). A brief but spectacular take on grief and language. [Video]. Youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx-MgYJmMmg
