Saturday Memory

November 9, 2024

I was sorting through a box of files and came across some notes I had made for a lecture I gave in 1979, entitled: “The Importance of Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass.” If I am remembering correctly, this lecture was given at the Jung Institute in Chicago. Reading these notes over now causes me to pause and wonder if I have done enough to enact what I wrote 45 years ago. To some degree I think the answer is “yes.” But to some degree also, the answer is “no.” Whatever the case, finding these notes in the current moment, and considering recent events, I feel an increased charge to do more now!

Here is one trenchant note that feels like a guiding light.

For it is our existence, the existence of the world and all its life, and the lives of the future that now hangs in the balance. Jung saw that the world is hanging by a thread and said that the thread is the psyche. Attending and caring for those threads, the nursing and nurturance of psyche in our time is the fundamental reality that needs to inform all other issues and everything, every single thing that we do.

Saturday Memory

October 26, 2024

It was 1945. I was not yet 8 years old. On a Saturday, the movie matinee I saw was “The Mummy’s Curse.” I saw all the Mummy movies and I still recall the mummy’s name: Kharis. That day, I won the door prize—a box of Hershey Milk Chocolate bars. I remember all the kids applauding as I received the prize. Very exciting. On the following Monday, I was in the hospital with acute mastoiditis—an infection of the mastoid bone behind the ear. At that time, penicillin was not yet widely available, but I was treated with several shots of penicillin a day. They were not painless, and I still have a vivid memory of the pain in the butt where the shots were administered. On the bedside table was a radio which was on all the time and on top of the radio sat my prize—the chocolate bars.

When I was well enough to eat them, I discovered that they were all a melted, gooey mess. It was a vacuum tube radio in those days and got hot.

Nonetheless, I licked my prize with abandon. ?

Saturday Memory

October 19, 2024

My father had a regular job as foreman at Arden Milk Company in Los Angeles. He also had a sideline. He was a bookie. He had a sizeable clientele consisting of police, firemen, and local political figures. A year after I was born (1939), Mickey Cohen moved to Los Angeles and began to develop an organized crime family. He was mentored by Bugsy Seigel, the head of the National Crime Syndicate. During the ensuing years, Mickey began to organize all bookies in the Los Angeles area. It was in 1949 when Mickey pressured my dad to join the “family.” My dad said no. At that point, Mikey threatened my dad and our entire family. His threats were not idle, as he had killed or ordered the killing of many. My dad talked to the police, and they ordered full protection for us. The police would take us to and from school and at home there were always two detectives. We were never harmed. The police taught me how to play poker and how to bet and how to read “tells.” I loved this!

In 1950, Mickey Cohen was investigated by the US Senate’s Kefauver Commission and was convicted of tax evasion and sentenced to prison for four years. The police protection ended. I followed Cohen’s news after he was released. He became a celebrity and traveled in high circles. Several movies were made in later years featuring Micky Cohen (Bugsy, L.A. Confidential, Gangster Squad, The Lincoln Lawyer.)

Pretty heady times for a kid not yet a teen.

Saturday Memory

October 12, 2024

While sorting through a box of stuff, I came across a small, 3.5-inch by 5.5-inch plaid covered notebook that I had journaled in on my trip to Scotland in 1992. That year, I was the United States representative to the Arts Festival held yearly at Dunvegan Castle on the Isle of Skye. I had been invited by John MacLeod, the Chief of Clan MacLeod. During my week-long stay at the castle, I got to know John, Bani Shorter (Jungian analyst from Edinburgh), and Norman MacCaig, one of my favorite poets, as well as distinguished others.  The festival featured singing (including John MacLeod, a professional-level opera singer), piano recitals, presentations of instruments and discussions, several sessions of bagpiping, original music compositions (Marc Yeats), and talks.

Bani Shorter presented “The Thread of the Story: The Fairy Flag.” I presented two talks: “Writing from the Inside of the Inside,” and “The Cost of Poetry and the Price of its Loss.” The year before, the US representative was Helen Vendler, perhaps best known as the poetry editor of the New Yorker, and one of the most honored literary critics. She was an English professor at Harvard and known for her emphasis on “close reading.” I was honored to represent the US, but I was daunted by following Helen Vendler.

I think scared would be more accurate. For as much as I felt it necessary to have prepared and written talks for this august event, I could not write. I was totally stopped. Some insistent inner voice said, “No! Spontaneous talks they will be.” And so, they were. I felt inspired by the feelings generated in experiencing such a gathering of creative people. What I said was not recorded and I barely have any memory of it. I can say that what came out of me was not some well-honed conscious material, but more like the outpouring of a deep lava. I was basically speaking out what I heard from somewhere deep inside. I am reminded now of what Miles Davis said: “Man, you don’t play what you know, you play what you hear.” And too, what Robert Olen Butler says: “Art does not come from ideas. Art does not come from the mind. Art comes from the place where you dream. Art comes from your unconscious; it comes from the white-hot center of you.”

I would like to re-create those talks, but I’m not sure it is possible.

Russ

Hi all,

Here is an important interview. Jon Wilson interviews John Woodcock on

the subject of therapist as shaman, the subject of John's new book. Here is

the link:

On the Couch with John Woodcock PhD (substack.com)

Russ

SATURDAY’S MEMORIES

Russell Lockhart

In the dream, I was working on a new project. It was a weekly letter to be published on Saturday’s and entitled, Saturday’s Memories. The content was to be focused on writing, in some detail, about a memory that had come to me during the week. This dream has sparked a desire to do what I was doing in the dream. So, I will begin next Saturday and post my comments on whatever memory visits me in the coming week. [10.06.24]

With great excitement, the C. G. Jung Society of Seattle announces the launch of an online monthly seminar with Dr. Russell Lockhart starting September 18th from 10 a.m. - 12 p.m., Pacific Time.

Based locally in Everett, Washington, Dr. Lockhart—Jungian analyst, trainer, writer, editor, and publisher over more than 50 years—has generously offered to share his extensive Jungian knowledge with participants using a question-and-answer format. To begin, he plans to focus discussion on the Red Book, imagination, and dreams starting with his essay “Appassionato for the Imagination” (available to members only here: https://jungseattle.org/learn/members-special-collections/ ). In this essay, Dr. Lockhart connects the Red Book with Jung's perspective on modern art and his insistence on the reality of "Other." He then asks” for us today, "How...and in what way, can The Red Book be a guide?"

This drop-in discussion group is in addition to our newly published Archives of the Writings of Russell Lockhart, located on our website in the Members' Dashboard. No prior knowledge, experience, or previous participation in the group is required. Please join us and sign up by clicking this link: https://jungseattle.org/connect/become-a-member   At the site, click on “Join Today.” The Archive and the Seminar will be available only to members.

The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern

A Novel

Russell Lockhart

©2024

Preface

June 28, 2024

I had a dream last night: I saw the title page of my new novel. The title is The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern. This may have been inspired by a novel I have been reading, written in first person (something I've never done) by Freida McFadden. She is now a top-selling novelist. As I read it, I felt strong impulses “to write” in first person—in this case, to write from Eddie Morgenstern’s point of view.

Before writing anything, I asked artificial intelligence (on the co-pilot platform) what it knows about this title. Here is AI’s response:

It seems there might be a mix-up here! The film you’re referring to is titled “The Re-Education of Molly Singer,” not Eddie Morgenstern. Directed by Andy Palmer and starring Britt Robertson, the movie follows a young lawyer who goes undercover by enrolling as a freshman at her old alma mater to help her boss’s awkward teenage son.

So, I guess AI doesn't know about my next novel even though my dream intelligence does. This sparked an impulse to write an essay on DI on the theme of dream intelligence in relation to artificial intelligence.

Then I told AI: The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern is from a dream.

Copilot responded.

Ah, I see! Dreams can be fascinating sources of inspiration. Let’s delve into the dreamlike world of “The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern.”

The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern

In the hazy twilight of Eddie Morgenstern’s subconscious, reality blurred with imagination. The edges of his existence softened, and he found himself in a place that defied logic—a school unlike any other.

The corridors stretched infinitely, their walls adorned with chalkboard equations that whispered secrets to those who dared listen. Eddie wandered, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Each door he opened revealed a classroom where forgotten knowledge danced like fireflies.

In one room, ancient philosophers debated the nature of existence. Socrates scribbled proofs on the blackboard, while Confucius sipped tea and pondered the meaning of virtue. Eddie sat among them, absorbing wisdom that transcended time.

Down another hallway, he stumbled upon a library with books that pulsed with energy. Their titles shifted—Quantum Mechanics for Dreamers, The Art of Levitation, Navigating Parallel Universes. Eddie reached for a volume titled Dream Syntax: A User’s Guide, but it slipped through his fingers like smoke.

And then, at the heart of this dream-school, he met the enigmatic Professor Hypnos. With eyes like constellations, Hypnos taught Eddie the language of dreams—the syntax of starlight, the grammar of moonbeams. Eddie learned to rewrite his own narrative, to unlearn and relearn.

As dawn approached, Eddie stood at the threshold of awakening. Professor Hypnos whispered, “Remember, Eddie, reality is just a dream you’ve all agreed upon.” And with that, Eddie stepped back into the waking world, carrying the echoes of forgotten equations and the promise of re-education.

Whether Eddie Morgenstern’s dream becomes a novel or remains a secret whispered to the night, it’s a tale worth exploring. If you’d like more glimpses into this dream-realm, feel free to ask!

For now, I have no feeling or enthusiasm for following up AI’s version of the novel. Instead, I’m going to hand over the project to Eddie Morgenstern and see what he comes up with.

CHAPTER ONE

Welcome, reader, to The Re-Education of Eddie Morgenstern. Being Eddie Morgenstern, you might except that I would know what this “re-education” thing is about, but I don’t. And, most likely you don’t know either. Keep in mind that the whole idea came from another person’s dream. I haven’t an inkling how or why this applies to me. So, on impulse,  and with some curiosity about the so-called “wisdom of the crowd,” I have set up an e-mail address so that you can write to me. Even if I am blank-minded maybe you have an idea, a fantasy, an intuition, or even a dream about what is afoot. If so, jot it down and send it along to:

eddiemorgenstern46@gmail.com

[Copy and paste in your mail program]

I won’t promise to use anything you send but I will promise to read every word that you send, and consider its possibility of inclusion. I’m a great believer in inclusion and including the reader in the writing of my novel is a good example of this.

            Besides, I don’t want to do this all by myself. I have done enough things by myself. Maybe this impulse to include others is part of my re-education. I like that idea! Though it was not my dream that started all of this, I respect the dream and intend to take it seriously. So, I do not know what my re-education might be; I am wide open to suggestions no matter how real or fanciful.

            So, let’s begin. Send me something to work with and I will work to open myself to whatever presents itself, to whatever comes along.

Medical issues and age (86 in November) have made slow a necessary part of my daily life. I mean really slow. I have worked hard to accept this inevitability. Still, it is difficult to feel the increasing estrangement from the world's increasing addiction to speed. I find less and less valuing of slow at any level. But when I do, I find myself savoring it like a slow-cooked meal.

I have recently stumbled across a book that I am now reading. The title is The Art of Slow Writing by Luise DeSalvo. While I used to enjoy reading fast, that is no longer the case. So, I am reading this book slowly, very slowly. Early on she quotes from a poem by Eve Merriam: "It takes a lot/of slow/to grow." I've taken this up as a mantra.

I did not want to wait until I finished this book to alert you to it. But from what I have read so far, I recommend it highly.