October, 1982
Las Vegas, Nevada

This book, Boundaries of the Soul, has really been
a revelation for me.  Sometimes you think you know
something and then, something happens, and you realize
that you don't know what you thought you knew.  I read
a lot of things by Jung during my time out in
Mogadishu, and I thought I had an understanding of
Jungian Psychology.  I didn't!  The combination of that
lecture that I attended, and the book have opened my
eyes to many things.

I think an "Honest Broker" marriage counselor
might be beneficial for helping Valerie and me solve
some of our problems, but I have come to believe that I
need some individual therapy if I am going to
understand myself.  I don't really believe that I have
pathological problems, and most of the things that seem
urgent are more situational.  For instance, from this
book I realized that my Persona, the superficial me,
"the face that I put on to meet the faces," the FSO
(Foreign Service officer), disintegrated, dissolved
when I retired, and along with it went the trappings of
power, money, prestige of position, diplomatic
passports, wheeling and dealing out of the American
Embassy, etc.  Furthermore, my Anima, (the feminine
force in a man and the source of Love and Creativity)
has been under attack.  I'm really relieved and
overjoyed that I found Dr. Bulay.  I look forward to
seeing him.

The next entry in the journal is the recording of a dream
which I had the night that I made the decision to call Bill Bulay:

I was in a hospital and there were two babies. 
One was a girl baby and the other a boy.  They were
Titian haired.  I asked which one was ours and the
nurse told me it was the girl.  I then said "You aren't
going to change your mind are you?"  I asked the girl
baby if she wanted me to pick her up, and she shook her
head indicating no.  I did pick her up and cuddled her.
In another dream that same night a dark Latin
woman walked up to me and said "Pete, don't go into
analysis."

THE PROBLEM

Many of us find that we have several characteristics in common as a result of being brought up in an alcoholic household.

We came to feel isolated, uneasy with other people, especially with authority figures. To protect ourselves, we became people-pleasers, even though we lost our identity in the process. We perceive personal criticism as a threat. We either became alcoholics ourselves or marry them, or both. Failing that, we find another compulsive personality such as a workaholic to fulfill our sick need for abandonment.

We live life from the standpoint of victims. We have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and prefer to be concerned with others rather than ourselves. We somehow get guilt feelings if we stand up for ourselves rather than giving in to others. Thus, we become reactors, rather than actors, and always prefer that others take the initiative.

We are dependent personalities who are terrified of abandonment, who will do almost anything to hold on to a relationship in order not to be abandoned emotionally. Yet we keep choosing insecure relationships because they match our childhood relationships with alcoholic parents. Thus, we see alcoholism as a family disease and ourselves as co-victims of the disease, as people who took on the characteristics of the disease in childhood.

As children we learned to stuff our feelings and keep them buried as adults. As a consequence of this conditioning, we confuse love with pity. We tend to love those we can rescue and, even more self-defeating, we become addicted to excitement in all our affairs, preferring constant upsets to workable relationships.

This is a description, not an indictment.

In the meantime, I had completed most of the work on my condo. I had put in a Mexican tile floor, a redwood deck, and redwood batten and board siding on the house in the patio area. In the bedrooms and my office upstairs I had installed interior shutters. All of the artifacts and art works that I had collected around the world in the course of my Foreign Service career were displayed, and the place turned out to be a comfortably decorated and cozy little pad.

As Christmas, 1982 approached Valerie decided she would come out to Las Vegas for the holidays.

It was a pleasant and romantic reunion. We went up to the mountains together, cooked some good meals and made a lot of love. We gave a couple of dinner parties and attended a meeting of the Friends of Jung together. She like d the Jungian group very much and bought herself some books by Jungian authors to take back to New York with her when she returned in January. During her visit we talked about making another try at living together in New York, but we both agreed that we would need to move out of Manhattan if we were going to make a go of it. In anticipation of a move to New York, I put my condo on the market for sale.

CHAPTER 33

Against this backdrop of doubts, conflicting or ill defined individual goals on the part of both Valerie and me and limited economic resources, the house was not sold, I left Las Vegas in early March 1983 and flew to New York for an exploratory visit.

Over the years of our relationship Valerie and I had played out many airport scenes around the world in Bangladesh, Costa Rica, Somalia, Miami, New York and Las Vegas. Most of them had involved Valerie coming to where I was working, but now I was going to her turf, her place of employment. There had always been a sense of excitement, a "High," as I looked forward to seeing her and sharing intimacy and companionship with her, and despite the troubled circumstances in which we were then engulfed, I had the same sensation of anticipation of joy as the plane started our descent into JFK airport.

Valerie was at the airport to meet me. We taxied into New York, had dinner in a small Italian restaurant on the East Side near her apartment, then went home to make love.

Since we had previously established a routine, during the first months after my retirement when I had come home from East Africa, we slipped back into it quite easily. We got up early in the mornings, I fixed breakfast for her and after seeing her off to work, I walked to a nearby cafe where I had breakfast and read the New York Times.

This time I added a variation to the routine, and found an early morning 12-Step meeting on the West Side. I of course searched the Times classified adds for places to rent or buy, and I was overwhelmed by the prices. In fact, I found little to encourage me. The 12-Step meeting was, for the most part, a litany of gripes about the hardships and difficulties of living in the city. The weather was cold and damp. The towering buildings, the gray skies, the, what I consider, depressing sights of the city were a stark contrast to the wide-open spaces, mountains, light and air of Nevada and California. I disliked riding the busses and subways, but I kept an open mind, and in retrospect I maintained a fairly optimistic attitude. In fact, I even began to have a feeling of gratitude for the options that I enjoyed. Even though life in Nevada was far from my ideal, I was not forced to live in the city the way that many of the people in the 12-Step group were bound to it by lack of economic means to leave, job requirements that demanded that they remain, or most commonly fear of leaving and taking their chances with fate and the unknown.

Valerie was very busy at work. Her immediate supervisor had been transferred overseas, and in addition to doing her own work, she had been named acting chief of her section. She had to go into the office early, and returned home late; despite what she said in a letter about my remark that "I did not want to be in the place she was in," I could understand how she felt. I knew from my own work experience the excitement of a challenge, and the fun of responding to it. She knew that she was being considered as a permanent replacement of the head of section, and thus, she was more than willing to put in extra hours, go that extra mile, in hope of receiving the recognition of a promotion.

I felt more than a little bit like a fish out of water. My own routine of writing, reflecting, attending all of my Jungian activities and 12-Step meetings in Las Vegas was interrupted. Nevertheless, I tried to be supportive of Valerie during what I knew was a stressful period for her. She very clearly was an upwardly mobile career woman, complete with subscriptions to Ms. and Savvy Magazines. She had put her life together very well, and it was up to me to find my own place in this milieu.

I had been in New York about a week when I decided to subway downtown to the C.G. Jung Foundation on East 28th Street to look over their bookstore, and see what sort of activities and lectures were available. This turned out to be a most fortuitous and propitious day. In the bookstore I found an edition of the Quadrant, the Journal of the New York C.G. Jung Foundation, that contained an article by Jeffrey Satinover, a well known Jungian analyst, titled "Puer Aeternus: The Narcissistic Relation to Self. This was another one of those discoveries in the category of Ah ha! Eureka! I have found it! From the opening paragraph to the last page it was speaking directly to me. I got more answers, more healing, more insight into myself, Valerie, and people in general from this article than anything I had read up to that time, but I could see that it had to have come at just that moment in order for me recognize the significance. I had to have completed all of the Process that had gone before. This article brought together for me a psychologically sound framework through which to view the nature of my own problems, the problems which I saw others struggling to solve, and it gave me a great deal of insight into how and why the 12-Step program works.

The opening paragraph of Satinover's article is a wonderfully concise description of the Puer Aeternus syndrome:

For some twenty years the problem of the puer aeternus - the eternal adolescent - has been of growing interest and puzzlement to Jungian analysts. Interest in the puer has grown in proportion to a striking increase in the incidence of this kind of personality: a personality characterized on the one hand by a poor adjustment to quotidian demands, a failure to set stable goals and to make lasting achievements in accord with these goals, and a proclivity for intense but short-lived romantic attachments, yet, on the other hand, it is also characterized by noble idealism, a fertile imagination, spiritual insight and frequently, too, by remarkable talent.

With the exception of the reference to remarkable talent, I thought Satinover had me in mind when he wrote that paragraph. It is a textbook description of an addictive, co-dependent, dysfunctional personality.

The word puer is latin for boy, and it is used to refer to this syndrome of psychological characteristics when found in the male. Puella, latin for girl, is used to describe a woman with the same characteristics. Satinover, however, uses puer for both men and women, and in the following discussions I have frequently done the same.

There is an excellent and very readable book titled Wounded Woman by Linda Leonard, also a Jungian analyst, that deals with the problem in women. Two of the types that Ms. Leonard identifies are the "High Flying Puella," and the "Donna Juana." These are super achieving, competitive and free-loving women who charge around the world as executives, Foreign Service officers or adventurers, and live in the realm of infinite possibilities. I heard one woman describe this type of woman as "worshipping our lady of perpetual potential." They are rather like the "Hong Kong Helen" character in Philip Roth's book, Professor of Desire. Just over their horizon there is always a better man, a better job, a better house, ad infinitum, but they are very appealing women, especially to puers. They do not always make good wives though, as puers do not always make good husbands. These women are frequently found as companions to alcoholic, or drug abusing men, thinking that with their love they can "fix" them. This phenomenon of their personalities is addressed in the book Women who love too much, as well as in the Adult Children of Alcoholics statement of the "Problem" and the ACOA program itself.

It so happens that drug and alcohol addiction is a classic characteristic of puers, and I have been able to relate much of what I have learned about alcoholism to the puer syndrome, and vice versa. There are two points that are worth making on this issue. One, is that the puer personality is never "cured." At best, with therapy, and participation in a program such as AA or Adult Children of Alcoholics they become "therapeutic personalities." Alcoholism in never cured either.

The other point is that among Jungian analysts there is a difference of opinion as to whether the puer personality is an archetype and instinctive, or whether it is the result of environmental influences. The same chicken or egg debate rages in AA about alcoholism. Such a debate does not rage in ACOA. In ACOA it is acknowledged that the problem is environmental.

The dysfunctional, addictive Puer/Puella personality is formed, according to Satinover, in the first eighteen months to two years of life.

The cause of this psychological wound, according to Satinover, is due to a disruption of the normal growth process. This disruption can take the form of either neglect, underparenting, or inordinate praise, excessive attention, in short, overparenting. It can be the result of trauma such as the death of a parent, alcoholism or chronic illness in the home, divorce, separations, sexual or other abuse, as well as from over-indulgent parenting, but it can also appear in an unusually gifted child. This latter theme is discussed very effectively in Alice Miller's book, The Drama of the Gifted Child.

Thus, with the exception of the unusually gifted child with "remarkable talent" there seems to be a very narrow corridor of healthy psychological parenting that produces a "normal" healthy personality. (The government as well as the feminists who are leaving small children behind to go off to Saudi Arabia to fight a war would do well to reconsider the wisdom of their choice when balanced against the potential long term consequences to children by the women's dedication to the idea that men and women are interchangeable.)

I thought back over my own childhood and recalled that at about the age of two years, in the depth of the "Great Depression," my father had abandoned the family, and for several months we did not know where he was. Finally, on my fourth birthday, after a tortuous bus trip across the country from Indiana where I was born, we were reunited in California. It became clear to me that my mother would have been unable to provide all of the attention that I would have liked. She must have been overwhelmed by having to deal with her alcoholic husband, and the pressures of survival in the depths of an economic depression. Nor, in my later childhood had either of them been able to provide the respect, understanding, and the sense that I was taken seriously that are essential to the growth of a human being. My father was too caught up in his own addiction, and my mother was too busy dealing with the problems that resulted from his alcoholism. I was left to figure things out for myself, and I had not done a very good job of it.

According to Satinover "a missing sense of identity is the nuclear puer defect about which revolves the entire constellation of personality traits and behavioral consequences that characterizes puer personalities." The issues of identity, consistency, self worth and their lack thereof, are repetitive themes by the participants in 12-Step meetings of AA, Alanon, and Adult Children of Alcoholics, and no doubt explains the importance assigned to a member's learning to introduce him or herself by saying my name is so and so and I am an alcoholic, an addict, an overeater, or whatever the addiction. Once the person has accepted that he or she is an alcoholic, addict or what ever, has learned the characteristics of their disease, and can say without shame "I am an alcoholic," for example, he or she has established the foundation for building a new identity, or the identity that they never felt before coming to the 12-Step program.

"What is this sense of identity?" Satinover asks and answers the question very succinctly by saying it is the "feeling that you 'know who you are,' even if you can't articulate it." Important features of identity are "Sameness," "Oneness," or "repetition," he says, and "A central feature of identity is the subjective experience of being the same person from one moment to the next."

Satinover goes on to describe the puer personality as etherial, fragile and subject to fragmentation that is characterized by the "habitual seeking of gratification through self-stimulation, and refusal to take the difficult path of adaptation, or work. You might say that it is the habitual fleeing to the Garden of Eden whenever sweat on the brow is called for, or strife between men and women is brewing. The grandiose fantasy is preferred to the modest accomplishment; the brief idealized affair, or masturbation, is preferred to the rocky long-term commitment."

Puer psychology, Satinover says, is characterized by a widely fluctuating impression of not only who one is, but also of one's worth. Common to the stories of alcoholics and ACAs is the fluctuating attitudes about their self-worth. Their stories repeat, over and over, the shifting feeling that they "can do or are everything or nothing." In 12-Step programs they teach from the very beginning that alcoholics must learn "to live life on life's terms."

The fluctuating between states of grandeur and despair accounts for the "puer's exquisite sensitivity. If he (the puer) does not himself deliver the final blow that ushers in fragmentation, the least criticism from another will do it." AA tells the alcoholic that above all else he must learn to live free of resentments and anger.

"Puers," says Satinover, "from each kind of upbringing strike each other as being narcissistic: the introversion of each is engaged in a ceaseless effort to maintain the experience of the childhood self, and each will choose external circumstances - drugs (including alcohol), brief affairs, intense physical or mental activities - that enhance this experience. Both will appear inordinately sensitive, and both are liable to sudden shifts in self-esteem."

There is an unhealthy measure of puer and puella tendencies in both Valerie and me, and that no doubt explains, in part, the initial attraction, the hook in Jungian terms, to one another. Coupled with Valerie's puella personality, is, I think, a substantial "Cinderella Complex," by which I mean the tendency in some women to lack a grasp of the sobering aspects of economics.

It became very clear to me that the situation in which Valerie and I found ourselves was as complex as a ball of snarled kite string. Not only were we dealing with a set of "grown up" problems, many of which were an outgrowth of the new and emerging roles of women and stemmed from the feminist revolution, we were also dealing with issues that should have been solved in our, at least my, childhood and adolescence.

Our situation was analogous to the political situation in Central America. The political and economic institutions had not grown and matured after independence from Spain, and now in their undeveloped political infancy the Central American republics found themselves not only dealing with their own retarded growth, they were caught up in a major league, heavy duty East-West conflict, and they are, as were Valerie and I, unprepared to cope with it.

Nevertheless, we did undertake some exploratory trips to Westchester County to look at places to buy or rent. No final decision could be made on the buying since my place in Las Vegas had not been sold, and Valerie had an impending trip out to several countries in Africa. But even more important to me were doubts that I had about Valerie's willingness to remain with the U.N., and her attitude about having children. When ever I broached the latter subject she waffled, and was non-committal, evasive. I saw a very distinct possibility that I could get involved in a situation where I would have no choice but to go back to work if we were going to survive in New York. I was reluctant, to say the least, to charge ahead, get myself involved in buying a house in a part of the country where I did not wish to live anyway, and even more reluctant to start another family. I sensed that Valerie wanted to keep her options open, have it both ways so to speak; work for the U.N. so long as it suited her, but still have a relationship with someone who wanted stability, and maybe later decide that she wanted children, or to look for another job. I saw that I might just be a "security blanket." It was five years later that I would find that my intuitive hunch was a fear and complaint that many men were experiencing in the post feminist revolution. Dr. Warren Farrell brings this out very clearly in his book Why men are the way they are. With carefull research, and excellent documentation he shows that while women have demanded and gotten greater equality in the workplace, they have left the primary concern for economic responsibility to men. I had not yet read that book however, indeed it had not even been written, but it was a revelation to me when I did read it. It was comforting to know that I was not the only man to feel that way.

I might add here that so long as I was talking about my problems with other men in my 12-Step groups I would get the macho feedback from that it is a man's role to be a provider, and to do less than that is to not be masculine, not be a man; that was pretty much my underlying attitude at the time that I was involved in this situation. I had bought into the male socialization package, hook line and sinker.

The Satinover paper even provided insight into this problem. In order to avoid fragmentation and descent into childlike disintegration puers frequently adopt what Satinover refers to as a senex defense. "The features of senex psychology are rigidity, orderliness, boundedness....The virtues of discipline, selfªcontrol, responsibility, hard work, conservatism, orderliness, and moral rectitude are drawn to an extreme in the senex personality. These qualities serve as the ideal enclosure for a self that is otherwise liable to fragmentation.

The following letter written after about two weeks in New York to my analyst Bill Bulay sets out pretty well how I felt at this time:

New York, NY

March 14, 1983

Dear Bill,

New York, revisited.

It has been turbulent but productive in terms of working though some resentments and coming to grips with reality. I would say that it has been more productive than the Xmas visit in Las Vegas. Perhaps the reason is that we are on more reality oriented turf. That is to say that, N.Y., and the issues surrounding making a life here in New York, seem to be more in tune with reality when here than do the same issues when discussed in abstract terms over a leisurely breakfast in Las Vegas during a Christmas vacation.

Reality has not changed, nor has my perception of reality changed in the past fourteen months. The reality is that Valerie has put together a life here in New York that includes her work at the U.N. and teaching at a university, as well as outside support activities such as reevaluation co-counseling, Alanon, yoga and a network of friends, some from the past and some new. At issue is the question of, not so much how I fit into all of this, but rather how do I find my own identity in this milieu. With respect to the issue of identity, I enclose a copy of an excellent and very informative article from the Quadrant. Another example of the right information coming into my hands at the right time!

While the writing of this letter is mostly to get my own thoughts sorted out, it is also to communicate to you how I am dealing with life in the "Big Apple." Valerie does show some willingness to relocate to the West, and I think if the job at Berkeley were to come through she would be hard pressed not to accept it. But that would be a deus ex machina solution, wouldn't it. What seems more realistic is that I accept that if we are to continue I must do the following: ACCEPT that we are going to live the East for at least a couple of years.

ACCEPT that we will be living in a rented place for that time.

ACCEPT that I must find my own friends, identity and activities here in New York.

ACCEPT that there is a strong likelihood that if Valerie stays with the U.N. it will require going overseas again.

There may be a lot more that I have to ACCEPT, but those items are enough to deal with at one sitting.

What do I get for all this acceptance? Well, I guess I get a measure of companionship. Maybe not all that I would like, but nevertheless, a measure. I get a bed partner, although the present sleeping arrangements are less than perfect. By that I mean they are separate beds, mostly because of the physical limitations of this apartment. I suppose there is an economic benefit because of Valerie's job, which does pay well, but not all that well considering the cost of living in the New York area. I think, to state it concisely, that I just have to give up on any sort of aesthetically appealing, and economically prudent living arrangements for the next couple of years, and in exchange I have time to read and write (if I feel like writing), and do just about what ever I want to do within the constraints of living in New York.

There is no doubt that we have to move out of this apartment, if we are going to survive at anything higher than the subsistence level. Therein lies the problem. We can't move immediately because Valerie is waiting to hear, one, from Berkeley, and two, from the U.N. as to whether she is going to get her promotion. Also, she must make a trip out to Africa later this year, and I have not sold the house in Las Vegas.

Furthermore, I don't like to be the cause for Valerie making a major change in her life, even to the point of moving to a new apartment where she would have to pay $1,200 or so per month (the $750 she pays now is outrageous) let alone making a major change in her job. It's a real can of worms isn't it!

Regards,

Pete

Flying is a persistent and recurring dream of puers. Sometimes they fly in airplanes, and at other times without the benefit of such man©made, reality oriented paraphernalia. (I suspect that the more profound the puer's wound, the less likely he will depend upon man-made contraptions for his soaring exploits.) This is not just an expression of the puer's longing for freedom and release from the confining restraints of reality. It is also a manifestation of yearning for spiritual perfection. The French psychologist, Gaston Bachelard, in his book Psychological Symbolism in Greek Myths, says the story of Icarus is a tale of false yearning for spirituality, or one of forgetting that spiritual insight and peace of mind are gifts of God. In the Icarus myth the boy's father gives him wings of wax and cautions him not to fly too close to the sun. The boy, of course, ignoring his father's advice, does fly toward the sun. His wings of wax melt, and he plunges into the sea to his death.

This myth has several implications for the puer, the alcoholic and ACA. First, the puer has an innate spiritual insight, and in the depths of his despair over his self-made predicaments he will turn to God or a Higher Power for relief. Too frequently, though, he will forget, once his crisis has passed, that the help which he sought and received was a gift of the Gods. Hubris and thinking that it was his own ego which saved him frequently leads to recreate the same or similar mess.

Also significant in this myth is the symbolism of the sea, a symbol of the feminine. The puer/puella problem is a function of damaged or wounded parental relationships. By failing to heed the advice of his father or the male principle Icarus soars toward the sun only to lose his wings and plunge into a sea of femininity, or in Jungian terms anima possession. An anima possessed man is moody, bithcy, indecisive, drifting, and prone to attribute all of his problems to everyone but himself; so, too, is the alcoholic and an ACA.

I realized that Valerie and I were in a negotiation, and I knew from my diplomatic experience that negotiations are a process, and each one takes on a life of its own. Like a novel, each one has a beginning, a middle and an end. Two more weeks went by, and it seemed to me that we were at the end of that negotiating session. It did not seem that any further progress could be made until some of the imponderables had become more clear to us, i.e. the sale of the house in Las Vegas, her promotion at the U.N., or her job offer in California. Drawing upon my diplomatic training I decided to write a third person Note Verbal, the most traditional way in diplomacy that governments communicate with one another. It is a soft medium, probably because the use of the third person seems to take some of the "sting" out of the ideas presented in the note. It is a very effective means of communicating in even the most hostile of situations, and we were in need of some lighthearted relief after almost a month of some pretty heavy give and take. I had decided that I would return to Las Vegas, and Valerie said she would tie in a visit to me out there in conjunction with her upcoming trip to Africa. Before leaving though I drafted the following as, what in diplomatic circles would be, an aide memoir. MINISTRY OF EXTERNAL AFFAIRS

MASCULINE REPUBLIC

OF

PETELANDIA

Note Verbal 83/1

The Ministry of External Affairs of the Masculine Republic of Petelandia presents its compliments to the Ministry of External Affairs of the Feminine Republic of Valandia, and has the honor to refer to the recent consultations between our two governments carried out under the auspices of the United Nations in the City of New York, N.Y., U.S.A.

The purpose of these consultations was to define the nature of future relations between our two governments, and to explore the possibilities of merging certain of the living accommodations now occupied separately by representatives of our two governments.

The Ministry is pleased to transmit to the Feminine Republic the following draft of a joint communique which describes the substance of the issues discussed during these consultations.

During the period March 4, 1983 through March 28, 1983 Ambassador P. Self Man, and Ambassador V. Self Woman met in the City of New York and had a series of frank and open discussions on the future of their two republics. In the course of these talks it was agreed that the present Treaty of Matrimony signed by their two governments in Dacca, Bangladesh in April, 1977 should be continued in force, and that both governments are committed to the seeking of a solution to the difficulties which have surrounded the successful implementation of the Dacca Treaty. It was further agreed that at the present time the following issues are impeding the implementation of the Dacca Treaty in both spirit and intent.

1. The present residence located in the City of New York and occupied by Ambassador Woman is not suitable as a residence for both Ambassadors Man and Woman.

2. That an alternative residence located in the Greater New York area would be more conducive to the successful implementation of the Dacca Treaty, but that there are economic and other more etherial issues which preclude the relocation within the Greater New York area at this time.

3. That relocation of Ambassador Woman to the Las Vegas residence now occupied by Ambassador Man might be more conducive to the successful implementation of the Dacca Treaty, but that successful relocation is contingent upon Ambassador Woman finding suitable employment that would be acceptable to her government and is therefore an internal affair which only Ambassador Woman and the Feminine Republic can resolve.

4. That relocation to some other location in the Western United States might be more conducive to the successful implementation of the Dacca Treaty, but that such relocation would be contingent upon Ambassador Woman finding employment that would be acceptable to her government, and that the finding of such employment is an internal affair of the Feminine Republic and Ambassador Woman. It was also agreed that any such relocation would require consultation between our two governments on the economic and other etherial implications of such a move.

5. That relocation to an overseas location might be more conducive to the successful implementation of the Dacca Treaty, but that any such overseas location must be identified by Ambassador Woman and must be acceptable to our two governments.

At the conclusion of these talks it was agreed that Ambassador Woman would consult with her government with the objective of developing a long term policy around which our two governments could constellate a strategy that is conducive to the successful implementation of the Dacca Treaty of 1979 and to the continued growth of our two republics in an environment of serenity, peace and harmony. Ambassador Man reiterated the willingness of his government to consider any and all proposals that the Feminine Republic might develop so long as they meet reasonable etherial criteria and are economically viable.

The Ministry of External Affairs of the Masculine Republic of Petelandia avails itself of the opportunity to reiterate to the Ministry of External Affairs of the Feminine Republic of Valandia the assurances of its highest and most distinguished consideration.

United Nations, New York

March 28, 1983

All of that not withstanding, and even though I had decided to return to Las Vegas and wait it out while at the same time getting on with my own life, I decided that it would be a good idea to carry back with me some real knowledge of what kind of houses we could buy if things progressed to that point. The next weekend we rented a car and drove back up to Westchester County, and with a real estate agent began looking at places in the price range that we could afford.

It was a dismal day. We saw run down fixer-uppers on decayed, melancholy suburban streets; dark, cramped and dreary condominiums and co-ops with soiled and worn carpeting or hardwood floors that were scratched and dull from decades of scrubbing. Finally, as realtors are prone to do, we were taken to a newer and very attractive condo in White Plains. It had a California persona with redwood batten and board siding, decks and a fireplace. It was not too unlike the condo I was trying to sell in Las Vegas, except that mine was 3 bedrooms and I was asking $60,000 for it. The one in White Plains was two bedrooms and they were asking $100,000! Nevertheless we, or at least I, got carried away with the moment.

I had some cash savings, and in a fit of enthusiasm, I told Valerie that I would be willing to make the down payment. We made an offer on the house and returned to New York, and in was then that I began to come back to reality.

As is characteristic of me, I put together a "worst case" scenario in my head. Valerie gets pregnant, quits her job with the U.N. and I am tramping the streets of New York City looking for work in order to meet what would be a large mortgage payment as well as live.

Fortunately, I think now, the owners of the house could not be contacted until the middle of the following week, so we had a few days to "live with our commitment."

One thing I had learned from my participaqtion in a 12-Step program by this time was that when I got myself into a situation in which I knew that I had made a mistake, I should promptly admit the mistake. That night I told Valerie that I really had thought about making the commitment on the house, and wanted to back out of my mistake. She thanked me for being so honest, and I returned to the idea of going back out to Las Vegas.

On the day that I was scheduled to return to Las Vegas, I was packing my things in preparation for my departure. I had the radio turned on, and on a news broadcast there was a report of the bombing of the American Embassy in Beirut. About an hour later I received a telephone call from Arthur Silver, a friend and colleague who worked in the State Department.

Arthur and I had served together in Mogadishu and Rawalpindi, and he told me that my first boss in the Foreign Service, Tom Blacka, had been killed in the explosion in Beirut. I felt like I had been hit in the stomach.

Arthur, Tom and I had all served together in Rawlalpindi during the rioting that marked the last days of the Ayub regime, but Tom and I had been friends for over twenty years, dating back to my first assignment in Madrid. He was not just my boss he had been a companion, my mentor, and he had gone to bat for me on more than one occasion when I had made foolish errors. Tom had been the one who was responsible for my reappointment to the Foreign Service after I foolishly resigned in in 1972.

I did not know at that moment in New York, and had no way of knowing, that Tom's death in Beirut would have an impact on my own life beyond the sense of rage and grief that I felt. Within a very short time, Tom's death would have an influence over what I would be doing next in my life.

Valerie came home early from the office and accompanied me to JFK where I was to catch my plane to Las Vegas. I was is a state of shock, and Valerie sensed it. We were both very quiet as we rode together in the taxi, and did not talk much. As a little irony, the man who sat next to me on the plane was from Pahrump, Nevada, a small town just north of Las Vegas. He also worked in the international field, and had just that morning, before hearing of the bombing, signed a contract to go out to work in Beirut on the telephone system in the American Embassy. One does not meet many people in Nevada who even know where Beirut is, and even less frequently do you meet someone who is onÜjÜtheir way to work out there. I was impressed by the sychronicity of the meeting.

* * * * *

On August 25, 1983 Valerie and I were divorced, and on August 26, 1983 I left Las Vegas for Washington, and Accra, Ghana. I had accepted a 3 month consulting assigment in Accra so that the man who was in Accra could replace Tom Blacka in Beirut. I saw Bill Bulay on the day of the divorce and gave him the following letter:

August 25, 1983 Las Vegas, Nevada Dear Bill,

Since letters and written material have constituted much of what we have discussed over the past year, it seems appropriate that our concluding session be in the form of a letter. I am very much aware of how much you have contributed to my getting a grasp of myself. I am sure that I could not have accomplished as much as I have with just AA. I needed something more, a larger framework through which I could view my problems. But I do understand that no progress can be made in treating the larger wound so long as it is raw and bleeding from alcohol.

The most significant discovery for me was the discovery of the puer syndrome and the Jeff Satinover article. You very gently led me down the right path to those discoveries.

In the past few weeks I have become very aware of the struggle between my Self and Ego. Also I have a deep understanding of the different parts that make up my psyche. The blur between Self, Ego, Anima, the Hero Archetypes and the instinctive Father Archetype is gone. In Jungian terms I can feel the differentiation. I might add, that this differentiation did not come with a flash of light, like Paul on the road to Damascus. It was more like a sunrise or a burning off of the fog.

I know that I have just scratched the surface of my individuation, but I feel that I am on the right path, and more will be revealed, so long as I don't drink.

To many this conclusion with the divorce one day, and flying off to Africa the next might look like a puer fantasy, but I know, and I think you do, too, that a lot of work preceded this seeming deus ex machina solution to this part of my novel.

Fond regards,

Pete T. Stuart

Although the marriage between Valerie and me was terminated, the economic and emotional ties that bound us were not. With respect to the former, the economic ties, that issue would surface again in the following year, after I returned from Ghana. In so far as the emotional ties are concerned, I would spend the next four years analyzing, going back over and picking at the dynamics of our relationship in an attempt to understand what had happened.

For my purposes here I will fall back on the words of one of my literary heros, Ernest Hemingway, "I found the greatest difficulty, aside from knowing truly what you really felt, rather than what you were supposed to feel and had been taught to feel, was to put down what really happened in action; what the actual things were which produced the emotion that you experienced." If I have adequately described the action of what happened, you will know and understand truly what I really felt.

A NEW BEGINNING

Gene McCoy © July 1998

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