Narcissism: A Psychospiritual Perspective
Sophia Prevezanou argues that therapists’ awareness of their own narcissistic wounding is essential when working with narcissism
We label people ‘narcissistic’ when we observe in them traits such as self-centredness, self-preoccupation, competitiveness, an inflated sense of self, and a sense of entitlement, among others. It’s often used as a pejorative term for something that belongs to ‘other people’, but although grandiosity is usually associated with narcissism, people who lack self-esteem may also be narcissistically wounded, as another common trait is an underdeveloped capacity to truly love one self.
A theoretical understanding of narcissism
The narcissistic defence tends to develop when a child is excessively praised or put down by their parents/caregivers – becoming the mirror for the caregivers, instead of being mirrored by them. The psychoanalyst Neville Symington(1) defines the core of narcissism as the refusal of what he calls the ‘lifegiver’, when a split takes place in the psyche and one part of the self turns against the lifegiver, resulting in an anti-relational position being taken. Although Symington’s lifegiver can be understood as the mother/caregiver, from a psychosynthesis perspective, the lifegiver can also be seen as the Self. If the lifegiver/Self is refused, the inner spirit is absent. This can often be observed as a lifeless quality in the person, as absence of creative energy.
To emphasise this aspect of narcissism, Symington describes it as ‘frozen trauma’(2) and Schwartz-Salant talks about the ‘grey Self’,(3) which has given up on the experiment of life. Symington also describes the narcissistic personality as a sphere covered by a rigid shell or crust that encloses ‘jelly’: a jumble of fragments in a gelatinous mass, which has resulted from inner destructive action and moves according to external stimuli. I understand the jelly as similar to what is sometimes referred to as ‘narcissistic vulnerability’: a state of insecurity characterised by intense shame. The jelly forms a glue-like attachment to a powerful inner figure that Symington calls ‘god’, a concept similar to the superego or an internalised ruthlessly critical parental figure. This god figure enforces the presence of what Symingtom calls the ‘worm’: a figure that submits to, and is savagely punished by, god, resulting in the narcissistically wounded person feeling worthless. The crust is similar to what is sometimes referred to as the ‘narcissistic bubble’, and gives the impression of self-absorption and a lack of interest in others and the world. Symington’s use of the term jelly indicates something unpleasant to be avoided. Yet, it could be seen as the personal shadow, full of unmanifest superconscious energies. The crust can be seen as the survival personality, which resists the emergence of the authentic personality incubating in the jelly.
I understand the god/worm inter-relationship as being similar to what psychosynthesis trainer Massimo Rosselli refers to as the ‘two faces of the mask’:(4) the outer face (god) presented to the world is quite different from the inner face, which is the person’s inner reality (worm). Another way to understand the god/worm dynamic is as a split between omnipotence and impotence.
Striving for perfection is often a characteristic of narcissism and it seems to me that negotiating the experience of incarnation, with the yearning for continuing connection with the Self (which is also associated with perfection), is key to the development of narcissism. Leading psychosynthesis theorists, John Firman and Ann Gila, talk about the ‘search for lost perfection’(5) and the painful realisation that such perfection can be glimpsed but not attained, which is known as the ‘crisis of duality’ in psychosynthesis theory. They add that the ‘inflation of self indicates an ideal state of being that has been established to counteract trauma’.(5) The implication here is that narcissism can be seen as a psychic structure that acts as a defence against the fear of non-being.
According to Firman and Gila,(5) the trauma of non-being disrupts our continuity of being by causing the individual to create split-off experiences of pain and perfection, trauma and idealisation. In this way, being is maintained in the face of trauma. Similarly, author and spiritual teacher AH Almaas sees narcissism as ‘a direct consequence of the lack or disturbance of self-realisation’,(6) and says it ‘develops when the soul loses touch with its wholeness, especially as it loses touch with its true nature’.(6)
In psychosynthesis, we refer to the other person as being a Self. There is an implicit recognition in this statement that the lifegiver is also in the other. If the lifegiver/Self in the other is refused too, there is no ‘I-Thou’ relating. This is another way of understanding the narcissistic tendency for lack of empathy, interpersonal exploitation and objectification of others.
Working with narcissism
Healing the narcissistic wound requires a lifelong process of transmutation of the personality and is not a short-term goal to be achieved. Perhaps this is one reason why long-term therapy is usually required when working with more pathological forms of narcissism. When Symington talks about the importance of addressing narcissism in therapy, and defines the principle of integrity as ‘a drive to integrate all parts of the personality into one whole’,(2) he seems to be describing the process of personal and transpersonal psychosynthesis, guided by the energies of the Self. He goes on to say that ‘a consequence of narcissism is that you cannot understand it when you are completely in the grip of it’.(2) I see here a direct reference to the importance of disidentification and development of a sense of ‘I’ in psychosynthesis terms.
At the same time, when Symington claims that narcissism is the ‘core of madness’,(2) and sets out to prove that it underlies all pathology, I wonder if he’s seeking reassurance that if the core of madness is understood, then madness can be less frightening, because it becomes predictable and even curable? Perhaps this is my own projection, as I recognise my own attitude at times, when fear of the unknown is so overwhelming that I resort to psychological theories for comfort, thereby losing my capacity to stay with my clients’ pain.
When working with narcissism in therapy, it’s important to consider ‘intersubjectivity’(7) and remember that the therapist’s conscious and unconscious responses affect the process as much as those of the client. In the myth of Narcissus,(8) the seer, Tiresias, predicts that ‘Narcissus will live to a ripe old age, provided that he never knows himself’. In a similar vein, Symington says that ‘narcissism and consciousness are mutual contradictories’.(2) I see this as an acknowledgement of the deep pain that accompanies narcissistic wounding. It’s better to enforce the rigidity of the narcissistic crust, than allow insight to pierce through it and inflict an injury. This can manifest in the therapy in a client’s inability to self-reflect and rejection of any interpretation the therapist offers that may lead to insight.
I propose five main aspects that the therapist needs to consider when working with narcissism: mirroring and relationality, narcissistic pain, Love/Will balance, timing and non-attachment to outcome, and bi-focal vision.
1) Mirroring and relationality
The need to be empathically mirrored is a feature central to the development and healing of narcissistic wounding. For the narcissistically wounded person, being seen creates embarrassment and carries the fear of envy and danger of humiliation. According to the myth, Narcissus is terrified of disturbing the image of perfection he sees in the water. A pebble or a breeze can create ripples that can destroy his fragile reflection. If Narcissus identifies with his reflection, he’s bound to be terrified by the prospect of losing it. Loss of reflection is equivalent to loss of self.
From an analytic viewpoint, a key feature of the narcissistic structure is the mirror transference, through which the need for perfect mirroring emerges, but in a controlling manner in which other people are forced to be mirrors.(3) This is often the therapist’s experience in the presence of a narcissistically wounded client: a sense of being used. This could be understood as projectively identifying with the client’s ‘used child’,(9) which is split-off in the client. According to Schwartz-Salant, one of the functions of the controlling effect of the narcissistic character structure, is to allow the client to feel effective, in an attempt to undo the poor mirroring process of childhood.
Following the metaphor of ‘therapist as Echo’, which acknowledges the importance of mirroring, how can the therapist ‘echo’ the client accurately? Schwartz-Salant warns against Echo being ‘a pale copy of the psyche’s reflective capacities’,(3) and sees Echo in a deeper sense, as representing the connection between the ego and the archetypal world. Almaas posits that ‘narcissism is primarily a matter of connection to the self, and only secondarily a question of object relations’.(6) If the second part of this statement implies that relating is a secondary matter when working with narcissism, I disagree with it. Even though on the surface, relationship seems impossible to establish, I consider it as the transforming agent of narcissism: it is about replacing the repeated relationship with the ‘needed relationship’,(10) and of moving from an anti-relational position to the restoration of relationality.
2) Narcissistic pain
Describing the process of working with narcissism, Almaas says: ‘The unique quality of narcissistic hurt is that when it is allowed – that is, not resisted – the rip in the shell will spread, and the hurt becomes deeper and more extensive, until the whole shell dissolves, which brings about the loss of the sense of identity.’(3) From this perspective, working with narcissistic wounding can be a question of whether we can face our own chaotic being, and the spaciousness of what Almaas calls our ‘essential presence’. We discover our spaciousness when we experience the inner emptiness. Because this state is so painful, it’s avoided at all costs, and the whole process seems like a vicious circle. Instead, the narcissistically wounded person seems stuck in what Almaas calls ‘deficient emptiness’,(3) which is similar to Symington’s jelly. This deficient emptiness accompanies the absence of a sense of identity.
So, one of the challenges in working with narcissism, is that fear of pain stops us from allowing ourselves to reach actual pain and therefore open to the possibility of healing. One task of therapy is to help clients separate fear of pain from pain itself, and accept pain as an integral part of the human condition. I believe it’s hard to witness a client’s journey through the pain of narcissism, if we have not had some personal experience of this pain.
Accepting the reality that something has happened is not only a process of integrating ‘depressive’ emotions – such as remorse, anger, guilt, destructiveness – but also of reparation. When we refuse and resist acceptance, remaining stuck in the blame of ourselves and/or others, we say no to the lifegiver/Self, perpetuating the narcissistic structure.
3) Love/Will balance
Symington points out that ‘relation to a person requires a free creative act’.(2) This implies that just as the lifegiver was originally refused and narcissism began to develop, in order to restore the connection to the lifegiver/Self, intrapsychically and interpersonally, an act of will is required, so that relationality is re-established. Narcissus says to Echo: ‘I will die before you ever lie with me.’(8) In terms of interpersonal dynamics, this could also be understood as: ‘I will die before you have power over me.’ This reminds me of the metacommunication in the projective identification of power: for the narcissistically wounded person, maintaining control and power over others is of paramount importance, and a defence against the deeper fear of annihilation.(11) As I understand my own wounding better, and am less identified with the need to prove I’m a good therapist by doing whatever I imagine is expected of me, my capacity for empathy improves.
Symington(1) draws a parallel between the process of mourning and healing narcissistic wounding. He describes the process of mourning as a creative act, through which we have to let go of parts of attachment to the dead person and re-create our world without that person. This process is similar to gradually letting go of our grandiose defences, of the perfect images we have of others and ourselves. There is an act of will associated with grieving, in contrast to the tendency of the narcissistically wounded person to wallow passively in what could be and what seems unattainable. I would add here that part of the process of letting go of what is dysfunctional, is the recognition of how we were served by that part of ourselves: by acknowledging it, we are reclaiming the underlying transpersonal quality.
4) Timing and non-attachment to outcome
Sometimes narcissistic injury can be inflicted on a client because the therapist misjudges the timing when they can hear insight for what it is, and not as an accusation,(12) or result of the therapist’s hidden agenda. My tendency with some clients can be to assume that, after several years of therapy, they should be ready to use insight without perceiving it as an attack. Although I endeavour to practise without attachment to outcome, I evidently have some expectation about facilitating tangible changes in a client’s life. This expectation is related to my desire to feel effective as a therapist – a result of an underlying lack of confidence.
5) Bi-focal vision
One danger of the psychosynthesis model and the use of bi-focal vision, whereby we see clients as more than their pathology and presenting issues, is that clients could become more narcissistically inflated as a result of therapy. This is like the story of the Emperor’s new clothes: no matter how much the Emperor is praised, he feels insecure inside. I observe this phenomenon mainly in clients who were never affirmed as children. In the transference, I become the good mother the client never had. And, through continuous affirming, I have re-enforced the crust of her personality, thus preserving an inner dynamic whereby the client thrives on praise but is crushed by the smallest hint of disapproval. In the projective identification, however, I become the persecuting mother (god), as the client disowns her capacity for self-persecution. In doing so, she remains trapped in a worm-like state.
Working with narcissism from a transpersonal perspective is about recognising the paradox of letting go of our grandiosity, while at the same time discovering and owning that there is something of value inside us. Assagioli’s ‘blossoming of the rose’ exercise reminds me of the narcissistic dilemma, as the rose symbolises emerging potential and its inherent beauty. Schwartz-Salant reflects on the narcissus flower, which is born when Narcissus dies. Like a cycle of death and re-birth, when the narcissistic defences are dissolved, reconnection with the Self becomes possible.
Rage, shame and envy
Melanie Klein(13) sees the universal longing for the pre-natal state of unity partly as an expression of the urge for idealisation. My understanding is that this longing for oneness and connection is related to the sense of entitlement and instant gratification characteristic of the narcissistic configuration. In the therapeutic relationship, this could manifest as the client having demands of the therapist, and raging if these demands are not met instantly. Analytically, we can see this as the insatiable desire to satisfy the need to be fed and nurtured by the mother’s breast. Psychospiritually, nurturing includes the emotional and spiritual domains. Almaas(6) considers narcissistic rage as a reaction to feeling unseen or misunderstood, and a defence against narcissistic vulnerability.
The post-Kleinian psychoanalyst John Steiner talks about ‘psychic retreats’,(14) which he defines as hiding places where the true self can find protection against attacks from external objects. He refers to Adam and Eve’s expulsion from the Garden of Eden as similar to leaving a narcissistic retreat: they become fully human when they experience shame. Shame is intrinsically linked to narcissistic wounding and is complex, both in understanding how it affects us and also in how to work with it. Symington(1) sees the development of narcissistic shame as a result of an underdeveloped capacity to love. Having been shamed a lot in childhood, I defended against shame by pretending it didn’t exist. This is another characteristic of narcissism: shame is noticeable by its absence on the outside, although it’s very present on the inside.
How do we facilitate the development of our clients’ ability to tolerate shame without shaming them? This is especially important if we consider how shameful it is for a narcissistically wounded client to acknowledge dependency on the therapist. For example, if my tendency is to rescue my clients when they get in touch with their vulnerability, I run the risk of firstly making myself a god-like figure in their psyche, and therefore having the power to reassure but also shame them if I so wish, and, secondly, colluding with their belief that vulnerability is a sign of weakness and therefore should be avoided.
A narcissistically wounded person is more likely to feel deprived of objects, feelings and states they see and admire in other people but deny in themselves. This brings us to the concepts of envy and greed, the importance of which – together with jealousy – was first highlighted by Klein(13) and more recently by Symington,(2) who considers greed, envy and jealousy as the intensifiers that keep the narcissistic crust rigid and the jelly liquid. Klein(13) says that one essential difference between greed and envy is that greed is mainly bound up with introjection and envy with projection. When identified with my narcissistic woundedness, I’m more likely to envy other people’s skills, qualities and success, but also to want more because what I have isn’t enough. Out of envy, I also see defects, instead of potential, in others, which fuel my grandiose fantasy that I’m better than them. The flipside of this is that I lose touch with my own potential and become overly self-critical, my own worst enemy. It’s easier to underplay the importance of what I desire most in life, than allow myself to feel the longing for what I don’t have. This is a defence against the intense pain that accompanies this longing.
Klein also highlights the connection between envy and gratitude and says that envy spoils the capacity for enjoyment and that ‘it is enjoyment and the gratitude to which it gives rise that mitigate destructive impulses, envy and greed’.(13) But why does the narcissistically wounded person avoid enjoyment? I think this is related to the inability to allow joy and pain to co-exist in the psyche. If I wholeheartedly embrace joy, I also move closer to the possibility of its loss. So I would rather deny what fulfils me, than risk losing it. The result is that I end up fearing joy and am unable to experience gratitude and appreciation for what I have, creating a vicious circle.
Conclusion
The process of writing this article has kept me in close contact with my own narcissistic wounding. I found myself oscillating between pride and inadequacy. It was a challenge to move beyond the harsh self-criticism and settle for what felt ‘good enough’. My view is that therapists’ awareness of their own narcissistic wounding is essential when working with narcissism, as well as their ability to use transference and countertransference, in order to empathically tune into the client’s narcissistic wounding and reality.
In understanding and working with narcissism, it’s important to contemplate the possibility that we are all narcissistically wounded to varying degrees, and also take into consideration the systemic re-enforcement of this wounding by our society. This is highlighted by Schwartz-Salant, who considers a ‘glaring deficiency’ in our culture: that being right is more highly valued than being related. As I reflect on the phenomenon of narcissism, I wonder if its prevalence is a result of our attachment to achievement, which is confused with the yearning to fulfil our potential, at the expense of being aware of our limitations as human beings.
Sophia Prevezanou is a psychosynthesis psychotherapist and an integrative supervisor. Alongside her clinical and supervision practice, she is a tutor/trainer at the Psychosynthesis Trust, the Mary Ward Centre and the Minster Centre, following her passion to inspire trainee therapists’ commitment to their personal, professional and spiritual journey, in service of their clients.
References
1. Symington N. Narcissism: a new theory. London: Karnac Books; 1993.
2. Symington N. A pattern of madness. London: Karnac Books; 2002
3. Schwartz-Salant N. Narcissism and character transformation. Toronto: Inner City Books; 1982.
4. Rosselli M. Psychopathology and synthesis. Weekend seminar. Psychosynthesis and Education Trust. London; 5–6 April 2008.
5. Firman J, Gila A. The primal wound. Albany, NY: SUNY Press; 1997.
6. Almaas AH. The point of existence. Boston, MA: Shambhala; 1996.
7. Kahn M. Between therapist and client (revised edition). New York, NY: Owl Books; 2001.
8. Graves R. The Greek myths (volume 1). London: The Folio Society; 1996.
9. Johnson S. Character styles. New York, NY: WW Norton & Company; 1994.
10. Stern S. Needed relationships and repeated relationships: an integrated perspective. Psychoanalytic Dialogues. 1994; 4(3): 317–345.
11. Cashdan S. Object relations therapy. New York, NY: WW Norton & Company; 1988.
12. Greenberg E. When insight hurts: Gestalt therapy and the narcissistically vulnerable client. British Gestalt Journal. 1995; 5(2): 113–120.
13. Klein M. Envy and gratitude and other works, 1946–1963. London: Vintage; 1997.
14. Steiner J. Improvement, shame and embarrassment in narcissistic patients. Evening seminar. Confer Lectures Series on the Pain of Narcissism and its Psychotherapeutic Treatment. London, 19 November 2007.
For more on narcissism read these blogs:
Narcissism: The Freedom of Responsibility
Narcissism
For a 2 day workshop on ‘Working With Narcissism’ click here.