April 30, 2011 was my last meeting with the Jungian analyst Robert Johnson, the author of the misleadingly simple books, He, She, We, and Inner Work, among others. We were introduced a couple years before by my clinical supervisor, Dr. George Nicastro. I returned again, this time alone, to meet Robert at his home. After leaving, I quickly jotted down the “minutes” of our talk which I have transcribed below. It was a special and unique experience to meet and spend time with a man who is a true national treasure. I wanted to share this experience, at least to some degree, by writing about it here.
It is Robert’s custom to serve tea to guests (“by the 5th cup, the conversation starts getting really interesting,” as Dr. Nicastro reports Robert saying). British style - loose leaf in a large porcelain teapot. We sat in two simple chairs in the center of the living room, separated by a small round table where the tea tray is usually set. Before sitting down, he took me over to the large windows in his open apartment, pointing out a strange device he had found in India. He explained, “time is measured in inches in India.” We burned one inch of a coiled candle that represented 4 minutes (if I remember correctly). We then sat down and chatted for a bit over two hours.
His apartment has the peculiar feel of a monks cell. It is plain, without the usual sofa, dining table, or TV. Rather, there are three very old harpsichords. He had made a beautiful inlay design in one, representing a mandala. There is a long, shallow table at the far end against the wall, on which lie many, many oddities, mostly collected from India, including the time keeper. There is also a larger table, under the wide windows that look out over the town, suspension bridge, and ocean. There is an air of quietness, grace, and beauty here. Essentially, it is a space poised between the resonating sounds of the harpsichords and the infinite vista where the setting sun meets the ocean. Being in this simple space - a regular apartment building in San Diego, California - the feeling of Arvo Part’s music comes to mind. There is a sense of stillness, gentleness, and depth of feeling, that is similar in Robert’s home, writings, and person.
The “Minutes”:
Jung’s main point was to be true to yourself. True to your psychological type. Marie-Louise Von Franz (close friend of Robert’s), at the end of her life, said to him “I’ve done it all wrong” - she realized she had lived her life through Jung.
Robert said I know how to be in the world - that I am stronger than him - and that now I can turn inward.
He told me the story of his most recent book, Inner Gold. That a young man with a publishing company in Hawaii was going bankrupt. He gathered scraps of Robert’s unpublished writings and lectures. Robert agreed to have them published and this saved the publishing business.
Robert never was able to write. All his books were recorded from lectures that he has given.
I told him my dream from this morning - animals on a farm - being hurt and abused - were trapped in tight maze-like fences. He was very concerned with the dream. He took it very seriously. He mentioned he didn’t know if the dream was speaking of inward or outward processes, but to pay attention to the animal side within me. “Civil” of civilization means “straight line”. This allows a lot to happen (technology, institutions, …), but also cuts so much off. He said, “I suspect getting your degree has had yourself cut off very much,” and perhaps the reason why the dream speaks now. Perhaps the psyche knew it would be listened to, knowing I was seeing Robert (someone who knows how to listen to the communications of the psyche) this day.
He emphasized to me, prefacing it with “this will likely sound strange, but …” when we meet in 50 years, and we are sitting facing each other again, he does not want to see a broken person. Pay attention to the animal side. Remain human.
He told me of his recently going to seeing doctors. Of 5 or six he met with, only one saw him as a person. This makes him very sad and worried about fate of humans.
He said he had been a good therapist. I asked what made him one. He replied that he listens and genuinely cares for his client’s well being. “We’ve been trying to make psychology into a science. But psychology is an art.”
Recently he’s been realizing how important having a supportive wife is. It can make all the difference in a man’s life.
When leaving, he said to call on him if I ever need anything. I said the same back to him. He said “You’re doing it already,” meaning (as I interpreted it), by working in my own small way to be true to myself, to add meaningfully to humanity, to do our work - what we are meant to do, and do it well.
He, I feel, really does not think we are going to survive as a civilization. He said, “Civilization was a good experiment.” Both times I have met with him, he asked me at the end what I thought the future held. I told him my optimistic perspective, he seems to want to believe it will all work out, but he is deeply concerned with our fate.
Recounting a conversation he had with Jung: “The most important element in a man is the Anima. And the most important in a woman is the Animus.”
What stands out from our encounter was Robert’s ability to see beyond the immediate circumstances, or the sporadic bits of information that I brought in, and really felt into the undercurrents of my situation as well as our society’s. My strongest impression was just how deeply he felt with his heart. It was like he both held all the weight of the world - all of its sadness and pain - but at the same time exuded a peacefulness and joy. It’s hard to put this experience into words. Though a part of me hesitates to say it, I feel he is the most holy person I have met. Perhaps a better phrase is fully human. We all need models in our lives. How to live, how deal with harrowing situations, how to mourn, how to embrace our own and the worlds contradictions. To see and feel - in a visceral way - what is possible as a human being, is a gift.
Rest in peace, Robert. See you in about 40 years.