Review of the book From Mesmer to Freud

From Mesmer to Freud: Magnetic Sleep and the Roots of Psychological Healing
By: Adam Crabtree

Abstract and Book Review
Prepared for: Barb Dewar
By: Felicia Pavlovic
Date: Friday September 14th, 2007.

One line:

An historical overview of the alternate consciousness paradigm, tracing Mesmer’s discovery of animal magnetism in 1784 and its overwhelming influence on psychological healing over the 18th and 19th centuries, to its disappearance with the birth of Freud’s psychoanalytic model.


Eclecticism: A Book Review of Current Psychotherapies

Eclecticism: A Book Review of Current Psychotherapies, 7th Edition
Raymond J. Corsini & Danny Wedding (Eds.), 2005
Belmont, CA: Thomson, Brooks/Cole

Prepared for: Barbara Dewar of
Espritedu Training of Psychotherapy Associates
By: Amy J. McGrath

Download full 62 page PDF

Table of Contents:

Introduction 3
Psychoanalysis (Freud) 5
Adlerian Psychotherapy 9
Analytic Psychotherapy (Jung) 14
Person-Centered Therapy 19

The Bookettes

More Than a Book Club - "It is really about the food!"

I would like to dedicate this paper to my grandmothers, to honour their memories - for my maternal abuela Isabel and paternal abuela Francisca.

I am grateful to have received spiritual gifts and teaching from these two remarkable kinswomen. Their lives have affected who I am today. Unlike me, my industrious grandmothers never had a chance to attend school or had the privilege to be part of a wonderful discussion group like the Bookettes. My abuela Isabel led a life of isolation and emotional pain. Her first opportunity to learn to write her name came when I taught her how, when I was in primary school. For my birthday or end of the school year, I would always receive a beautiful pair of earrings that she would buy with her small pension; that was her way of connecting with me. My abuela Francisca learned to read and write by watching her children do their homework. She would work alongside them and trace the letters with a hairpin. Later, as her adult children moved away to other towns and countries, she would write letters to them. Francisca loved to read romance novels. She also had an incredible spirit of generosity. Every day, she would cook a large pot of stew or soup for her brood of children and then she would send one of the children with a food plate to an infirm or elderly neighbour. The spirits of Isabel and Francisca continue to live in me today.

Dance: Exploring the Sacred Union of Body and Spirit

"Dance is always sacred and always has a purpose. It is to honour the giver of life and the protector of life ... People dance together to celebrate the harvest or freedom or community. They mark life's passages, such as birth, naming, initiations into adulthood, healing, wedding and death. In Africa everyone dances." (1)

I love to dance. As an eight- and nine-year-old girl, I danced with a group of schoolmates on the theatre stage of the city where I lived. I delighted in wearing the colourful costumes and dancing to the spirited music. We performed the Peruvian folk dance, "El Carnavalito", for which I had to wear a huge embroidered and beaded hat. For the Italian folk dance, "La Tarantella", I wore coloured ribbons in my hair and played the "pandereta" (tambourine). I really treasured the experience. My mom and aunt delighted in doing my hair and makeup for the occasion. At a school presentation in grade six, I danced our traditional Uruguayan folk dance, "El Pericon". At family gatherings, usually at my cousins' birthdays, we would dance to the Beatles and Latin rhythms.

Alegria: Cocktail of 'Joy and Sorrow'

"We have no illusions. The children of the streets will not see Alegria. Laughter is still a luxury they cannot afford. Tonight, our cries of joy will become screams of rage that millions of young hearts will again freeze in the gutters of our goodwill. May Alegria become a rallying cry for those of us who have a voice." 1

Alegria (1)
Como la luz de la vida
Como un payaso que grita
Alegria Del estupendo grito
De la tristeza loca Serena,
Como la rabia de amar
Como un asalto de felicidad

Alegria (1) (Joy)
I see a spark of life shining

New Perspectives in Understanding Academic Language

"I believe we must honor all languages and 'the meaning of each word and nuance whether they [the authors] are from different geographical lands or from different emotional or spiritual lands. By honor I mean simply to struggle to understand. I personally mean to be curious rather than to judge. WE MUST KEEP ASKING QUESTIONS. What do you mean when you say this? ...From there maybe a dialogue can start. I struggle to keep the element of surprise alive in other words to hold an unknown to what the answer could possible be."

( Guestbook entry posted Dec. 12 /03 under the topic "Espritedu reflections/cultural inclusion")

Poverty: Breaking an Invisible Barrier

I want to write about poverty because I will be able to speak to you from my authentic voice - from my roots. I realize that I am swimming against the flow but for the first time in my life I feel that an invisible barrier has been broken. It is the barrier that had held me on the other side of the tracks. I do want to make a difference in the world and I do have something to say.

I come from generations of people who have been suffering without a voice for 600 years. They have had the European and North American boot on their throats. Or they were murdered for going against what they believed were injustices perpetrated against their brothers and sisters for what they viewed as the inexcusably arrogant domination of another culture.

My working life: my experience of two leaders

My full-time working life began the Monday after I completed high school. I was nineteen years old. A few weeks before the end of school, I started an intensive job search not knowing at all what kind of work I would end up doing. My accounting teacher, who believed in me, sent me on a couple of job interviews. I had signed up with an employment agency as well. I went to three job interviews and got three offers to work as a bookkeeper, a clerk in an insurance company, and a secretary for a drafting firm. I chose the bookkeeper's job for many reasons, but primarily because I enjoyed accounting better than secretarial work and the bookkeeping position was with the smallest of the three firms, something I valued. The firm had a staff of seven, including two part-time people.

Recordando a mi hermano Eduardo (Remembering my brother Eduardo)

Note: in Spanish we called my brother by his middle name, Eduardo, while in English we called him John, which is the translation of his first name, Juan.

As I continue to unravel my history and life's story in search of connection with my roots, I am discovering that in order to survive in my culture of birth in Latin America and then in my adopted culture in Canada, my true core, my authentic self was completely negated. There was no place for nurturing or loving because basic survival came first. Since I was the oldest sibling I believe I had a natural instinct for survival but my brother John, the youngest, did not have that instinct and regrettably he became our family tragedy.

My Experience of the Patriarchy

My experience of the patriarchy

Victim or Bully in a Patriarchal Society, The Revolving Door of Hate

It took me a long time to confront my own prejudices and to realise that it takes the role of both men and women to keep a patriarchal society alive. Both genders get locked in the revolving door of destructive values and behaviours, each profoundly affected by the intricacy of their hatred. My journey to health involves the unravelling of these intricate and complex feelings in myself.

In the first part of this pathway, I needed my victimisation feelings witnessed by an empathetic non-judgmental healer. The second part, which is presently in process, is to face the bully inside of me that lies underneath my victim. I resist facing the bully and bringing it to consciousness as I can easily get attached to the soothing comfort I get in support of the victim. This resistance prevents me from growing any further with my actions and leadership in the world because as long as I keep the bully hidden from myself, I am unable to problem-solve and dialogue with others when there are misunderstandings or discrepancies.

Killing Me Softly With His Words

Revisiting the Silence Attached to the Earlier Violence of Assaults and the Co-construction of New Meanings

Language becomes 'one's own' only when the speaker populates it with her own intention, her own accent, when she appropriates the world, adopting it to her own semantic and expressive intention. Prior to this moment of appropriation, the word does not exist in a neutral and impersonal language ... but rather exists in other people's mouths, in other people's contexts, serving other people's intentions. (Mikhail Bakhtin as cited in Narayan, 1972, p. 2).

Embodied Infant-Body Experiences

As a student of Espritedu with Jo-Anne Corbeil and Barbara Dewar, I believe wholeheartedly in the importance of the Mind-Body-Spirit connection. Through my own therapeutic journey, I have experienced some body sensations that speak to me of a younger time. A time when I first entered this world. A time when my spirit experienced terror and yearning. Terror of death and yearning for love. These primitive, core feelings of origin are surfacing and being processed within the safety of my therapeutic community

An Internal War

I have been thinking a lot about my brother lately, and my head has been hurting continuously for months
now. I feel like I can't think straight. I begin by looking at family pictures that I had put together for a school assignment. (The assignment consisted of creating a reflective notebook, in which we had to break down
particular moments of interaction into transformative moments). My gaze freezes on a picture of my brother
and me. He must have been fourteen in that picture, which means that I would have been four years old. I
stay with the image. My brother had a genuine passion for learning. He was extremely bright at school and

Life Under Father Rule in My Mother's Family: A Need to Tell the Story of Marriage

My mother's family had ten children. Of those ten, eight were female. The first baby born was male and died
at one month of age. Then, six unwanted females arrived: Aunt Natta #1, who died at four years of age, Aunt
Natta #2, Rosina, Mica, who died at age eleven, Peppina and Maria, my mother. Finally after all those girls,
Uncle Joe, the only male to survive, was born. Then two more undesired girls, Aunt Toma and Aunt Mimi,

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