Jodorowsky, Alejandro - Psychomagic - The Transformative Power of Shamanic Psychotherapy

There were people who no longer had teeth, who could not eat the orange and did not want to take it. I told them to offer it to whomever they wanted. Others did not like oranges, and I told them also to give it as a gift to someone. That happened four or five times. Once, I was very afraid because a man who did not have his head anymore refused to take the orange even to give it to someone. As I chatted with him, I did not know if I could count him as one of the twelve people (since his orange remained with me). All that complicated my act a lot, and I was afraid of failing. This man followed me while I chatted with the others and, finally, I was able to convince him to take the orange. Suddenly, the man fell. He had deformed legs and could not move without the help of an apparatus on which he supported himself. Everyone looked at him, but no one moved. I helped this man as well as I could to get up but he did not want to sit up while I went for a nurse. Once he was up again, he absolutely wanted to move forward. There were people who told me he wanted to go to his room located in another wing. I continued to support him up the stairs where he wanted to go. While he went up the steps, I was behind him so that he wouldn’t fall back and break his back. That may seem strange, but I was not afraid that he would fall on me and make me slide down the stairs. I felt this force of love surrounding us. Finally, this gentleman was able to go where he wished to go. It was lunchtime, and I still had an orange, I still had one person to see, and yet, I felt my act would not be valid. It was necessary to interrupt the act for an hour so that then I would return to chat with the last person and offer the fruit. And if all of it rotted because of this interruption?

Leaving, I found my husband who was waiting for me, and we talked about all of it. I gave twelve minutes per person, and I felt like I had left a lot of happiness, having contributed to easing a bit of suffering. But these eleven people—how much had they also given me! That might seem strange because it came from insane people, but they all thanked me for having come to visit them. Each time I said good-bye, the person said thank you. I believe that even if the intellect loses all or part of what we call a “sense of reality,” the heart still senses the love it is offered. That is, more or less, what I felt there.

At one o’clock, I returned to see my twelfth person with the twelfth orange. It was a man in a wheelchair, who had had a leg amputated. I then left, aware that this act had made me conscious of the fact that there are so many places where an enormous amount of suffering reigns, and everyone can, in his own way, contribute to easing this suffering. In going to this nursing home, I found myself facing my mother and my father. In closing, my parents both died in a three-week interval. I felt like a totally abandoned child; thanks to my visit to the nursing home, I felt I had given life to them both again.

When I called you, as you asked, to tell you what I felt, you proposed the following: “Go back to the exact place where you bought the oranges the first time, at noon, twelve o’clock,” you specified, “and buy one orange, the most beautiful.” I asked you what day I should do this and you responded, “What day had you gone there?” It was a Saturday. You said, “Do it Saturday. Then, seat yourself at the door of a church and slowly eat your orange, taking twelve minutes to do it. That’s all.” Saturday, July 14, I went to the market. An old lady informed me that on this holiday the merchants would be there.

At twelve o’clock, very precisely, I took the orange that appeared to me to be the most beautiful, and I bought it. I took my bike, and accompanied by my husband, I found a church where I could sit in front of the door. I knew of the existence of a church named “Notre Dame de la Paix” that I never entered because its modern architecture did not really attract me. It is a bit outside the city. I dreaded only one thing: that the door would be locked—as all churches are now locked outside of normal business hours. So I parked my bicycle, and by a miracle, when I pushed the door, it was not locked. The interior of the church formed a quarter circle. There was a lot of stained glass—modern, of course—but I felt very well. The church was “hot.” I sat down to pray, to give thanks, before starting to eat my orange. The priest arrived. He prayed also, and then he fussed about the church. I waited for the priest to leave because I did not dare to eat my orange right in front of the door. Then I took my bike, and with my husband, who had waited for me outside, we left. Upon leaving the church, I left the door open. For me, my act could not have been completed if the door had been closed; apart from that, I had the impression that the access to happiness was impossible for me.

After a bit, we went back to the church and were comforted to see that the priest’s car was gone. But this time, I was really afraid that the door would be locked. Not only was the door not locked, but it remained grandly open just as I had left it. So I could, with real ease and a lot of pleasure, sit myself in front of the opened door. And at precisely one o’clock, I began to peel my orange. Earlier in the week, I said that twelve minutes to eat an orange would be terribly long—evidently, I do not ever take time to savor it. I inhale . . . Twelve minutes after one o’clock was, for me, a beautiful revolution, the way to end this chapter of my life and move toward a total transformation. I began by enjoying the first section. What I felt, I will not forget. As I write these lines, I experience the same emotion. I ate that quarter little bit by little bit. I was moved, I wanted to cry—all the while feeling joy. This time, I felt well and, maybe for the first time, gave myself the right to life. It was life I tasted, that passed through me, that poured into me. I really felt, before, that I had forbidden myself something very strong. Life, without a doubt . . . There, I knew God’s door had always been open and that it was only me who closed it. I was in total communion with God. This emotion was intense. I looked at the time after having savored the first section: four minutes had passed. Time passed so fast, I would need to hurry up a bit. The feelings were still strong. After having experienced a certain pain, I went on with a real pleasure to eat my orange. I believe that for the first time, I knew what an orange tasted like. It was a discovery. In fact, it was as if I had eaten my first orange. I wanted the time to flow a bit slower to enjoy it longer. But the act was the act, and at twenty-four minutes after one o’clock, I finished my orange. I then entered the church, and I stayed there for a while without thinking about anything at all. I was empty inside, but happily; the emptiness was certainly a necessity for a new force to enter. Then I left with my husband, who had waited for me on a bench, very close, because it was important that he be near me on this day. And I realize that, in asking me to write, you supply more help. How can I say this? While I ate my orange, I experienced a feeling of acceptance of life inside myself. Perhaps this corresponded with the moment I was born, because as I wrote everything to you—I made several drafts—I had the feeling of giving birth to myself. I want to heal from my past, and I must say that, for the moment, it is my twelve-year-old daughter who helps me move forward. I love her above everything else, and I wish her happiness; but I know she will not find this happiness if I do not reflect an image of someone who wants to live.

This letter is, in many regards, touching. The testimony, above all, of the faith this woman has in Psychomagic. The trouble with the “ difficulty of life” is that it behaves like a very vague evil. After reading this long missive, I rejoice that Jacqueline could feel alive again, but I would have liked to find a shorter letter, one testifying to the resolution of a more precise difficulty, more easily circumscribed, thanks to Psychomagic.