Dear Therapist,

I’ve been extremely low and tearful lately, often flooded with sadness. To a certain extent, I know what this is about—there are a number of transitions in my life I’m navigating, and there is a lot of uncertainty about what the future holds. In many ways, I feel completely lost at sea. I’m keeping myself busy with things I know bring me joy. I’m also staying socially active rather than retreating from the world, but the low mood isn’t shifting; the tears keep flowing. This has been going on for a couple of months now, and I worry there is no end in sight.

Signed,

Despairing

Dear Despairing,

I am struck by all the water imagery in your brief letter: tears, flooding, being “lost at sea.” All of these bring to mind what Carl Jung termed “solutio,” a process in his model of inner transformation using alchemy as a psychological metaphor. In classic alchemy, solutio was the dissolving of a solid into liquid, breaking something fixed into a fluid state. In Jungian alchemy, solutio (dissolution) is not about chemistry but instead describes what happens when the rigid structures of the ego soften and begin to dissolve. This might mean a melting of fixed attitudes, identities, or defences into something more malleable. It can feel like confusion, the emotional flooding you describe, or a loss of control. It’s uncomfortable (to say the least!), but Jung viewed this dissolution as a vital component of inner change.

The tears keep coming despite your efforts to outrun them. Perhaps it is time to let them flow freely, and to view this fluid process as purposeful and important. Make space for the dissolution rather than resisting it. You mentioned a number of transitions in your life, and change always comes with a loss of the old. A grieving of sorts is natural, and releasing former ways of being that are outdated or restrictive also makes way for the new. Absorb the waves of sadness, awaiting the calm that comes after. In this way, you might discover the transformation that occurs naturally when strong feelings are met with stillness, quiet, and a steady acceptance.

Being in solitude—quiet and attentive to what is shifting and transforming within us—creates a sense of companionship with all that arises. It is this accompaniment that starts to build an inner support and home, a place we can return to for resourcing. When all is shifting and changing in the outside world, we can nurture a solid ground internally. Our culture is so keen to look for external fixes that we all too easily neglect the value of this inner resourcing.

Somewhat paradoxically, I’ll also mention the importance of maintaining a connection to the routine of ordinary life while all this inner processing is going on, else we risk becoming overwhelmed and submerged. The alchemists required a physical container (vessel) to hold the process underway, and a form of containment is crucial here too:  regular routines, practices, creative outlets, and personal therapy can all contribute to this. It sounds like you are doing some of this; just be mindful that the activity is in service to the inner work, rather than a distraction from it. Ongoing therapy might be particularly useful here, to help you hold all that is emerging and to see the shore when you feel particularly far from it.

Yours,

Kelly