One
gets rid of a neurosis; one doesn't get cured of oneself.
Jean-Paul
Sartre,
The Words
Life is a powerful
force. Yet life, when it is not lived fully, becomes
destructive. Today, we see all about us the signs of such
destruction in our culture. This is so much the case that at
times we may feel that we inhabit - in the words of Henry Miller - a
"universe of death." Death, however, is a natural phenomenon; and
what is ultimately distressing in life cannot be death itself. We
all must die. But how many of us are reconciled to our
mortality? Very few of us, I think, can claim that
distinction. We know, however, that animals functioning in a
natural state are capable of surrendering to death. If we have
witnessed such a death, we may have been struck by how calmly and
peacefully the animal "slips away." Struggle must occur as long
as life is possible; but in the end, struggle is no longer
meaningful. One gives up. Such a surrender to our fate is
possible, however, only when we are fully identified with life.
This paradox tells us much about the human condition and what it means
to live.
A good account of a difficult death can be found in D.H. Lawrence's
autobiographical novel Sons and
Lovers. In that book, Lawrence depicts the tenacious,
bitter holding-onto-life that characterized his mother. "My
father's people," he writes, "are frightened and have to be hauled out
of life into death like cattle into a slaughter-house, pulled by the
neck; but my mother's people are pushed from behind, inch by
inch. They are stubborn people, and won't die." His mother
herself knows the senselessness of her refusal to die, and yet she
feels powerless - indeed, she is
powerless to alter the situation. Lawrence writes that his mother
"... silent, was still alive, with her hard mouth gripped grimly, her
eyes of dark torture only living... Darker and darker grew her
eyes, all pupil, with the torture. In the mornings the weariness
and the ache was [sic] too
much to bear. Yet she could not - she would
not - weep, or even complain much... She kept her hold on life
still." [1]
Lawrence's mother died of cancer, and as we all know, cancer is one of
the principal degenerative diseases of our age. We also know that
there is no "cure" for cancer, and many people understandably
contemplate with
dread the prospect of such treatments as surgery, chemo-therapy,
and
radiation, with their often devastating effects. Yet in spite of
the absence of a cure for this malady, considerable knowledge has been
gained about the cancer process itself. Otto Warburg, for
example, showed that cancer cells are - compared to healthy cells -
anaerobic in nature, meaning that they require less oxygen than normal
cells in order to survive. He received the Nobel Prize in
physiology and medicine (1931) for his work in cellular
respiration. Albert Szent-Györgyi, another Nobel Prize
winner (1937) and the man who isolated ascorbic acid, also investigated
cellular respiration. He remarked that the cancer disease
involves a two step process in which cells, tending toward the
anaerobic state, begin to proliferate. The second part of the
process
occurs when the cancer cells stabilize and become "constitutive."
[2] Wilhelm Reich, engaging in cancer research in the 1940's and
1950's, described the cancer state as one of organismic shrinking
resulting in tissue suffocation linked to a characterological attitude
of resignation and a disturbance in breathing and sexual
function. He detailed his understanding of this process in his
book The Cancer Biopathy.
Similarly, Alexander Lowen, a former student of Reich's, observed that
cancer patients often show a loss of hope and a tendency to give up on
life. [3] Recently, Lawrence LeShan has commented on the
personality trait of underlying despair that he has consistently found
in his extensive therapy with terminal cancer patients, therapy
conducted over a period of many years. His book Cancer as a Turning Point is a good
introduction to his work.
Since the subject of the present discussion - the force of life - is
neither cancer nor death, we might ask: what does the theme of cancer
have to do with our topic? In answer, I would say that the
cancer process represents, in part, an organismic turning away from
life and that its understanding, therefore, can tell us something
important about living. If we take seriously the work of Reich
and other researchers, then we must consider that the cancer process
involves several facets which, taken together, constitute a
syndrome. That syndrome involves an underlying - though typically
unconscious - sense of resignation and despair and an inhibition in the
breathing function; a generalized tendency toward organismic stasis or
sluggishness, which may be masked by a strong show of determination and
a tenacious will to
survive; a diminished pleasure in life; a decline in the willingness to
fight for one's own happiness and for self-fulfillment; and the oxygen
starvation of healthy tissues, accompanied by the growth of cancer
cells, which proliferate in an oxygen-poor environment. As Reich
pointed out, life is such a powerful force that when its natural
expression is frustrated (e.g.,
through respiratory inhibition and vital depletion), the organism
continues to function, but at a more primitive, less differentiated
level of development. Cancer cells represent such a stage.
The point that I wish to make is that our current social and cultural
order - insofar as it tends systematically to engender despair,
hopelessness, and the inner experience of defeat - may itself be said
to be carcinogenic (i.e.,
cancer producing). If this is true, then we are well served in
seeking to identify those aspects of our culture that produce in us a
deep sense of resignation, that dampen our life force, and that lead
to the inner depletion of our energies - even to a secret desire for
death, a desire which LeShan has observed to be present in many cancer
patients and which prompted him to entitle his first book describing
his work with these patients: You
Can Fight for Your Life.
What, then, in our society tends to foster despair, resignation, and
diminished functioning, and how are we to contend with these
forces? The answer has to be that one of the main predisposing
factors is the childhood experience of not having one's needs met and
of not being loved for one's real self. This conclusion is borne
out by the research of Reich, Lowen, LeShan, and others, and I have
discussed the importance of the childhood situation in my book The Affirmation of Life. For
the purposes of the present discussion, however, I would like to
suggest that the widespread presence of despair in our current cultural
situation is itself a source of despair for many people. Again,
the phenomenon of cancer can help to illustrate the point.
Like many other people, I have known friends and relatives who have
developed cancer, and I have observed that it is not only the cancer
sufferer who is touched by the illness. Those who are close to
the sick
person may also be deeply affected. Despair and helplessness may
brew, often silently, within their thoughts and feelings, creating a
vicious circle. This, however, does not have to be the
case. The cancer situation, if it is confronted honestly by those
involved, can lead to a deeper commitment to life. The key to
such a commitment is honesty, for unless we are honest about who we are
and what we feel, we are doomed to experience life as something foreign
to us. We become alienated from ourselves. This is why
LeShan speaks of cancer as a turning point, for in his view it offers
all those affected an opportunity to confront more openly their own
genuine feelings so that their energies can be mobilized for deeper
living. This suggests that the best way to confront the spectre
of cancer is to
live passionately and deeply. To do so will not solve all of
life's problems. We may still get hit by a truck one fine spring
day or be exposed, for that matter, to an environmental carcinogen of
such toxicity that we cannot ward off its deleterious effects.
[4] Yet, at a functional level, the
best insurance we have against a hard death is a vigorous life.
Admittedly, it can be difficult to maintain our vigor when we see so
many problems about us and realize the depth of despair that keeps so
many people immobilized in the face of obviously unacceptable social
and cultural conditions, such as pornography and the epidemic of child
abuse, which rages unabated. Yet, there is an old saying: De te fabula narratur! "Of
you the story is told!" None of us is immune to the depletion of
our vital energies. If we are to counter that destructive
process,
we must fight to breathe more freely, to deepen our
understanding of ourselves, and to increase our awareness of our true
needs. In this regard, it
is important to recognize that there is a difference between fighting for and fighting against. Fighting for our
lives (and for life in general) is a positive action because it is
based on the desire for genuine pleasure, meaning, and
personal fulfillment. It is an act of self-expression. It
is based
on the realistic acknowledgment that in this world there are many
obstacles to our growth and development that must be confronted.
Life requires that we mobilize ourselves.
In the end, we cannot get cured of ourselves, and we cannot get rid of
the deep impulses of life within us unless we cease to breathe
altogether. But if we identify with these genuine impulses in our
depths, we will not be inclined toward morbidity. Death will
come, in due time, to all of us. The educator A.S. Neil - who
lived to an old age - once commented: "I'm not afraid of dying; I'm
afraid of not living!" Not living is not death; it is life held
at bay. We owe it to ourselves to live.
[1]
Lawrence, D.H. Sons and Lovers,
Chapter XIV, "The Release." [2] Szent-Györgyi, A. The Living State (New York:
Academic Press, 1972).
[3] See Lowen, A. "Some Notes about Cancer" in Bioenergetic Analysis, Vol. 3,
Number 1 (New York: International Institute for
Bioenergetic Analysis, 1987), pp. 1-28. Also see Lowen's remarks
on cancer in his monograph Stress
and Illness: A Bioenergetic View (New York: The International
Institute for Bioenergetic Analysis, 1980), passim. [4]
Reich
notes that, "... unfortunate experiences in later life may force
even the most vigorous life apparatus into resignation and shrinking." Reich,
W. The Cancer Biopathy, trans.
T. Wolfe (New York: Orgone Insitute Press, 1948), p. 340.
Nonetheless, he remarks: "As
long as education and social conditions are going to produce
resignation and muscular armoring en
masse, so long is any radical elimination of the cancer scourge
out of the question." The
Cancer Biopathy, p. 345. (This passage appears in
italics.) Back
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