A different kind of care
A: My years of military service were really a turning point for me. At the very time I enlisted, the Ministry of Defense was for the first time establishing the position of clinical psychologist. I took part in a screening examination and became the military's first psychological worker. Over a period of a year and a half, I received training at Tri-Service General Hospital and began treating the mentally ill at the National Military Psychiatric Center.
During the process of interacting with mental patients, I discovered that they weren't necessarily maniacal or unrestrained; often they could be gentle and kind, nothing like the "horrors" that most people imagine.
My experiences during this period gave me the realization that these kinds of people need care at a completely different level. And I also discovered that their illness has a cause about which others were unaware.
After I was discharged from the military, I took on such responsibilities as editor-in-chief of Parent Monthly, supervisor of a counseling hotline, supervisor of a counseling center, clinical youth therapist for a maternity and pediatric health center, and clinical psychologist at the Chienkuo United Clinic. For thirteen years I never interrupted my work in the field of psychology.
Q: What were your motivations for writing this book?
A: The concepts which formed this book were a concern for culture and a sense of mission.
What do you have to say?
For a period I really liked to read history. According to historical records, China and Europe probably began to have exchanges around the year 1403, when a Spanish emissary wrote a book about China. Then Europeans began to make contact with China. At that time Western things were viewed by the Chinese as "low class," but the Orient was viewed by Westerners as the "heavenly kingdom." Oriental products were seen as "heavenly objects," and Oriental culture as "heavenly culture."
For nearly 400 years, China has been seen by Europeans as being an exceptional land. This history gave me a feeling of interest, and also one of injury.
In the past our country boasted a marvelous culture, but the present generation can barely retain a little self-respect, based on the treasures of our ancestors. Today foreigners only recognize us for our traditional things. The New York Times proposed that the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu was the greatest book in the world. But Lao Tzu is separated from us by 2000 years. What do we have to represent our culture in the present age?
In the last century we have not been without talented individuals, but we have neglected, forgotten, even denied our own things.
Once in a conference, I encountered an expert who was full of talk about Freud and Jung, and I rather impolitely said to him, "What do you have to say?" Freud was an Austrian. How could he know the problems of China? How could he have his thumb on the pulse of Taiwan's society?
Thus I began to seriously think, could I find the opportunity to structure something of my own and write a truly native psychology? This was my motivation for writing this book.
The curative effects of Kuankung
Q: What are the differences between Western psychological therapy and what you call Chinese mental pacification techniques?
A: What does psychological therapy mean, anyway? My definition is very simple. Taking people who are unstable and ill-at-ease and making them stable and at peace--that is psychological therapy.
Western therapy talks about seeking love, care and trust. The therapist shows care for the patient, and the patient begins to trust and eventually to have confidence. This is the model for Western psychological treatment.
For a very long time, we psychological therapists have utilized the Western model of psychology. Nevertheless, one client of mine told me that Kuankung [the Chinese god of justice and the martial arts] had better results than therapy.
The patient was a 51-year-old male who frequently felt inexplicable panic. After 3 months of treatment, he felt that he simply had not improved. And with a little bit of embarrassment he said to me, "I think that going back to Kuankung will be more effective for me!"
That kind of sentiment wasn't objectionable to me; it was a tremendous surprise. There is a saying, "Belief gives birth to faith, and faith gives birth to hope." For a patient who already has a strong belief, the power of faith certainly exceeds that of dialogue. Then, as if in a flash of light, I thought, "Why can't we use this angle to carve out our own creation, establish a vein of psychotherapeutic theory that belongs to us?"
In the past the West criticized the East by saying that we only discuss thinking, not doing, that ours is a metaphysical philosophy, incapable of being put to daily use. In fact, it is not so. By the time the Japanese psychologist Morita Masatake published his landmark Morita Treatment Method, the fallacies and prejudices that the West held toward the East could no longer hold water.
The truth is that within the remedies in Chinese culture, including folk customs, philosophy and religion, there has always existed the essence of psychological therapy. It's only that a theoretical structure was lacking; it's only that they didn't resort to the written word.
Past lives impacting the present?
I believe that psychotherapy ought to intermesh with real life; Freud and Jung are not our life. Nonetheless, I am not going to reject Western psychological experts altogether. The truth is that Western psychologists have made a great contribution to the enlightenment of Chinese psychology, in fact to psychology throughout the whole world. But if one were to rely on Western psychology for viewpoints on human nature and personality to form therapeutic methods for Chinese people, I think this would still be insufficient.
Q: In your book you emphasized that psychotherapy must employ a common "cosmic view" and a common life experience. The recent trend in "reincarnation therapy," in which people talk about their past lives and the transmigration of the soul, seems to be completely in synch with Buddhist beliefs on reincarnation. Is this in line with your comments on a common cosmic view? Is this kind of treatment more likely to find a warm reception in our society?
A: Currently there are certainly people trying out this form of therapy, but I believe that many are encountering difficulties.
I mentioned so many different kinds of therapy in my book actually in order to provide a message: different "styles" of people should use different kinds of treatment. Those who have a believing personality, in whose life faith plays an important role, should use traditional folk remedies. Those who are suitable for psychoanalysis can use Freud's psychoanalytic therapy. Those who like philosophy, who like Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, can use meditative therapy or study Buddhist healing methods.
The deciding factor in whether to undertake reincarnation therapy is whether the therapy recipient believes and is not afraid of the treatment. If they are going to be afraid or worry, then it is fundamentally inappropriate. In that case, such treatment not only will not help solve their problems but will also increase their mental turmoil.
From treating oneself to treating others
Q: There are quite a few so-called "mental pacification books" on the market, for example Lin Ching-shuen' s Bodhi Tree series. How do you think The Doctor of Mind differs from the many mental pacification books for sale these days?
A: I think the greatest difference lies in the theoretical structure. In all forms of knowledge one cannot simply speak out one's ideas. China's Buddhist meditation has always remained Buddhist meditation, and philosophy has always been halted at the philosophical level, because we have lacked design and restructuring with a scientific viewpoint.
The many books for sale that discuss pacifying the mind are still stuck at the level of coming to realizations. At most they can be called "self therapy." And in the academic sense, so-called "mental pacification" not only must have a theoretical structure but also must be transformed from treating oneself to treating others.
Much of our philosophy in fact has long been used to pacify the mind. But in the past we were searching for enlightenment, which is a very private experience. If we are to use it to help others, then we must be able to reapply it; it must be able to be taught and passed on.
For example, folk customs and traditions, if they undergo some transformations, can become means of soothing the psyche. Perhaps in the future, we may get a prescription that says, "Pray in the temple." Burn three sticks of incense a day. Pray for three days straight, and the result will be a heart set at ease.
Other examples are the Taoist ideas of "sitting in oblivion" and "mind tranquility." Sitting in oblivion is actually dispersing the variegated thoughts in one's mind and retaining the silent void of the spirit. Mind tranquility is using one's heart and one's chi to listen to, comprehend, and encompass all the things of the world. Sitting in oblivion and mind tranquility are both basically forms of realization that break psychological obstructions and get rid of inhibitions. But if one were to develop a methodology to teach people how to sit in oblivion and how to attain mind tranquility, this would be self-therapy transforming itself into therapy for others. Currently this is what we are trying to structure--a Chinese psychological therapy.
Anticipating criticism
Q: Do you believe that with the publication of The Doctor of Mind the theoretical structure of Chinese therapeutic techniques is already well-rounded?
A: Basically I am taking many "metaphysical" things and making them "materialize." In the philosophy sections, for example, I did my best when writing not to quote the original sources. I ruminated upon them myself before offering them in interpreted form to the readers.
There are many schools and processes of therapy which the reader is not necessarily obliged to comprehend. For this reason I inserted a number of stories in the book, to make up for an insufficiency in the original hypothesis. Because a hypothesis is fundamentally academic and theoretical, more than 30 stories have been molded together into a single form of therapy which transmits ideas and beliefs.
As a whole, this book has put forward a framework of theories, but it is still not complete. And this is the part that I will keep working on in the future.
Q: Your book puts forward quite a few interesting observations. One of these was that certain illnesses are exclusive to Taiwan, such as "ghost phobia" and "taboo phobia." Also, you observed that China's historical phenomenon of communal speech-making seems similar to the modern group therapy sessions currently popular in the West. But mostly you just touch on these issues and don't go deeper. Were you restrained by the space? Or do you have a specific plan to write more in the future?
A: This book is just a rough outline. What I attempt to do is "point the way." I didn't attempt to write completely perfected copy. I also mentioned in the foreword that this book was written with the intent of inviting criticism. If there is criticism, there is space for discussion. Then it will be helpful to the development of native psychology.
The big wish of this life
On the whole, the realm of native psychology should incorporate the collective work of all of Taiwan's psychologists. In fact, all Chinese psychologists should work in this direction. It is not something I can do on my own. Today I am willing to lay out a schemata. Maybe some people will identify with me, maybe some will not. However, anyone is welcome to voice their opinions and criticisms and even to repudiate my theories.
All in all, there's quite a lot of space in this book for discussion. For the time being what I have done is just this. In the future I will dress my ideas up in more elegant clothes.
Maybe I will create a theoretical structure for every chapter, or maybe I will overturn my current theories and reconstruct a better idea. Right now I am not sure yet, but it's my big wish. I don't know if I can complete it in my life.
[Picture Caption]
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"I am no guru, but rather the gardener who helps the guru plant saplings." (photo by Hsueh Chi-kuang)
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How does one transform Zen, which seeks an interior realization, into a practical form of therapy? This is the author's future path of exploration. (photo by Vincent Chang)
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