I've long wondered a bit of analysts--psychologists, really. I've had a few friends that visited such professionals regularly. But I've wondered when is therapy over? The thinking on this varies. I've read that really all people need is someone--anyone--to talk with, and that's what analysts allow for. I've read that a person only needs analysis as long as he or she thinks analysis is needed (this from books on Eastern philosophy). And then there's the idea that analysis somehow cures something--but what exactly?
Dickson's story is about a man who doesn't quite know how to let go of his analyst. This itself creates the amusing central motif--a grown man visiting a child psychologist, asking to talk with the puppet assistant. You can read the nondiagnosis here at Bartleby Snopes.
Showing posts with label Schuyler Dickson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Schuyler Dickson. Show all posts
Friday, July 15, 2011
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