Analyst%27s Transference

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©2007 Institute of Psychoanalysis

On the edge: The psychoanalyst’s transference1

AIRA LAINEPurokatu 9, FIN-20810 Turku, Finland — laine.aira@kolumbus.¿

(Final version accepted 30 November 2006)

Countertransference is a central topic in analytic work and in the literature. Theconcept of countertransference includes a basic question which has been understood in different ways. The author attempts to differentiate between the psychoanalyst’stransference and his countertransference in the analytic process. It is hard to draw aline between them; analysts are always on the edge. The analyst’s transference will be explored and described using three approaches: narcissism, regression pro¿leand the analyst’s phase of life. Regression pro¿le is a new concept developed by theauthor, which may help us to understand the core of the analyst’s transference in theanalytic situation. She illustrates the topic by clinical vignettes.

Keywords: countertransference, analyst’s transference, narcissism, regression pro¿le, life phase

Introduction

Countertransference has been one of the most essential topics in the psychoanalyticliterature since Paula Heimann’s (1950) and Heinrich Racker’s (1953) in-depthdiscussions. Heimann assumed that Freud’s discovery of resistance was based onhis countertransference without his recognizing it as such. Over the years, numerousexcellent papers have been published on countertransference, to mention only a

few writers: Grinberg, Joseph, Kernberg, McDougall, Ogden, Sandler and Sandler,Segal, Searles, Tähkä and Volkan. One of the basic problems concerning counter-transference seems to be whether or not all of the analyst’s emotional responsesshould be included in the concept. Patient and analyst are two persons, each withtheir own history, life circumstances and transference feelings. ‘Just as the patient’sview of external reality is dependent on his vision of his psychic reality, so our picture of his psychic reality is controlled by our view of our own psychic reality’(Green, 1975, p. 2).

I would like to separate the analyst’s transference from his complementary andempathic responses to the patient. ‘Being based on the analyst’s repressed or other-wise unavailable experiencing, countertransference responses are not informative of the patient, no matter whether they are triggered by the patient’s transference or not’(Tähkä, 1993, p. 202). These kinds of countertransference responses may distortthe analyst’s understanding and be conducive to ‘analytical enacting’. We have torecognize their distorting nature if we want to learn from our mistakes. According

1A previous version of this paper was presented at the Scandinavian Psychoanalytic Conference, Oslo,1990.

Int J Psychoanal 2007;88:1171–8310.1516/ijpa.2007.1171



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to Hanna Segal, ‘Countertransference has become a very abused concept and manyanalytic sins have been committed in its name. In particular, rationalisations arefound for acting under the pressure of countertransference, rather than using it as aguide to understanding’ (1993, p. 20).

I explore the analyst’s transference with the help of three approaches: narcissism,regression pro¿le and the analyst’s phase of life. Narcissistic equilibrium is a basicstructure which inÀuences the whole of our psychic functioning. Regression pro¿lehas to do with our psychic functions at the moment of trauma, our capacity to dealwith trauma or the inability to elaborate on them. We may work through and becomeconscious of the signi¿cant traumas in our life, but despite all the processing theyremain an Achilles’ heel; we ¿nd them affecting us time and again and making usrepeat certain patterns. These patterns also affect our work as analysts.

Every phase in life brings about new challenges and requires adjustment and problem solving. These personal processes inÀuence us as people and our ways of working in the analytical setting.

Narcissism

If we think of the time that Earth has existed as one day and one night, the historyof mankind has lasted only the last few minutes. It is hard for us to see ourselves asone small link in the chain of life and its diversity (Wilson, 1992). ‘The intellectual

being who little by little adds to his amount of knowledge is in danger of becoming dazzled by his own brilliance to such an extent that he does not recognize his ongoing

ignorance’ (Edberg, 1971). Because of human narcissism, it is hard for mankind to believe that the world has existed before him and without him.

Every person constructs his own view of the world, and of his profession.Professionally, we continue the analytical tradition. When reading the works of

Freud, one is repeatedly astonished by how many modern ‘new’ insights alreadyexist in his writings. ‘Many of Freud’s principal paradigms have been internalized,although we are not aware of it’ (Rechardt, 1985, p. 39). However, they must berediscovered through one’s own clinical experience. We have to come across theright book at the right moment to be able to form our own understandings. Inner discoveries cannot be transferred as such from one generation to another. They areinÀuenced by the tradition and the time we live in, as well as by our own narcissisticconstellation, personal analysis and fate.

We can get in touch with our pathological narcissism in different ways; we probably clash with it every day. If the analyst’s narcissistic equilibrium is goodenough, he will be able to recognize his helplessness and narcissistic vulnerability.According to Ikonen (1988, p. 58), narcissistic traumas can act as a basis for ideology:

if we are not able to work through and mourn our narcissistic traumas, we maycreate an ideology which helps us to avoid the pain that accompanies the injuriesand, in doing so, retain the illusion of the absoluteness of our own narcissistic value.‘A private ideology thus arrived at may demand of its creator many sacri¿ces, ¿ll hislife with hardships and frustration, and destroy his human relations, but it gives himand his life an absolute value as long as his belief in his ideology lasts.’



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It is important to be able to move freely in our own narcissistic area, to experience, become conscious and work through our narcissistic injury and our vulnerability.Working through and analysing narcissistic injuries bring to our consciousnessfragments of ourselves that we have not had contact with. Lou Andreas-Salomésaid of Freud, ‘The results of his investigations were not at all in line with what hehad wished for’ (Hartmann, 1960). Freud’s narcissism was strong enough to handlesurprises and disappointments. This enabled him to make genuine new discoveries.

The narcissism of the patient is always in some way wounded and, as a conse-quence, his tendency to lash out can be strong. This demands narcissistic endurancefrom the analyst and the ability to tolerate insults. The following vignette is anexample of this kind of challenge and of the patient’s narcissistic dif¿culty inreceiving help.

One of my patients who was in therapy three sessions a week, face to face, for 6 years, said during every session that the treatment was of no use. She said thiseven when I thought that we had made progress. I felt emptied but still my patient

said that she had received nothing, although many of her severe symptoms haddisappeared. Gradually I understood that what was most essential for my patientwas that I was able to tolerate the feeling of being nothing. The treatment ¿nishedsuddenly. My patient had frequently told me that, when the time was right, shewould ¿nish without warning. We had a session when, for the ¿rst time duringthe whole treatment, she felt that she got something from me. ‘This feels liketherapy,’ she said and in the next session she told me that it would be the last one,and indeed it was.

The patient also has his narcissistic importance for the analyst. If the analyst’snarcissism is fragile, he can use patients for his own purposes. He may be genuinelyinterested only in what the patient has to say about him. On the contrary, if the patient does not pay any attention to the analyst, it can happen that the analyst does

not dare to touch on the topic because he is afraid of getting hurt.It can take a very long time before the most painful things can even be mentioned

in a treatment. The analyst ought to bear in mind the patient’s life circumstances andthe place of the analytical relationship in it. When it is possible to take up a painfulissue with the appreciation and respect it deserves, simultaneously considering whatthe patient is able to bear, it will no longer be unbearably painful for the patient. Hecan make use of the knowledge that he has gained about himself. As we all knowvery well, it is hurtful when somebody recognizes traits in us which we ourselveshave not noticed. The analyst should try to regulate this hurt as much as possible by¿nding the right words and the right moment. Respecting the patient’s narcissisticstate without immediately confronting it may be very challenging and demanding of patience and containing from the analyst.

A vignette from one analysis, four sessions a week on the couch: my patient had been in analysis for 3 years. On the conscious level, she was always delighted aboutall the breaks in the treatment. I had tried gently to touch on this subject but eachtime I was rejected and also offended. ‘You analysts are so narcissistic,’ the patientsaid. I felt stupid and abandoned. Before each break, a pattern seemed to repeatitself: my patient was very angry with her husband because he always rejected her.



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It was impossible for her to see the connection between these feelings and the breaksin the analysis. The patient had again for many sessions talked about how badlyher husband treated her and she was very anxious and unhappy. I said, ‘Surely themost important cause of your feelings right now is your husband’s behaviour.’ Thehusband really behaved very indifferently towards his wife, and probably was evenmore narcissistically disturbed than she was. I continued, ‘Perhaps some small partat this moment could also have to do with the fact that I have had to cancel your session tomorrow.’ The patient had completely forgotten about the cancellation.When she realised this, we were able to explore her reaction to separation. Withthe help of this incident, it was possible to open a pathway to the deep narcissistichurt and vulnerability that the patient had protected herself from. The hurt was so painful that more direct transference interpretations would have been absolutelyunbearable. Had I been more inexperienced, I would have only been annoyed withmy patient’s resistance without understanding how serious and painful the causesfor it were. The greater the number of early separation traumas, the less conscious

the reactions to breaks in analysis seem to be.Tolerating transference may be narcissistically depriving and testing for theanalyst, although we have been trained for it. There may be qualities which areunbearable for the analyst, although he well understands that they are part of the patient’s transference. Sometimes transference may satisfy the analyst’s narcissisticneeds, bringing the analytical process to a halt. Freud could not believe that he wasas lovable as many of his female patients claimed. This was how he found ‘transfer-ence love’ induced by the analytical situation (Freud, 1915).

In the following vignette, the patient’s need to control the analyst was narcis-sistically challenging. I felt that one of my female patients, in therapy twice aweek, face to face, was in many ways putting demands on my own narcissisticendurance. She wanted to have complete control of the treatment situation. At the

beginning of every session, she arranged my chair and rug in her own way. Shestared at me all the time, registering all my reactions. If I was late by even half aminute, she was offended, but it was impossible to investigate the matter in anyway. It was as if I was nailed to my chair, and every attempt to analyse aroused my patient’s rage. In addition, the patient was many years my senior. I stubbornly heldon to my attempts to analyse, although the patient often reacted by denigratingmy interpretations and my analytic skills. I was often terri¿ed and tried to analyseonly because I knew it was my duty, although I would rather have withdrawn. Bymeans of her aggressiveness, my patient had progressed in many areas of her life,which I greatly respected.

When the summer breaks began, my patient was in the habit of paying on theday following the last session. Her former therapist had agreed to this arrangement,

which did not surprise me after getting to know my patient better. I tried repeat-edly to investigate the meaning of this procedure but my patient kept this habit for many years. Once I proposed that she could pay after the break. However, the dayfollowing the last session she came to pay as before. She was furious, and made somuch noise that the patient coming in next thought I would be killed and the samethought also passed through my mind. After the break, my patient did not say a word



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about what had happened. I reminded her about it, although I was afraid of howshe would react, but she had totally forgotten the incident. When the next summer break came, my patient paid on the last session. This would not have been possiblewithout the events described above and the work they initiated. The main aim wasnot to get the patient to pay on time, but to reach the problems hidden in this patternand to work through them.

The psychoanalytic profession is in many ways satisfying and privileged.According to Tähkä, ‘It will provide a basis for deep satisfaction derived from therecurring reunion of two otherwise hopelessly separated mortal individuals, as wellas from the continually proceeding enrichment of one’s representational worldthrough those experiences’ (1993, p. 194). Freud (1937) called the analyst’s work an‘impossible profession’. Is this an attempt to hide the numerous possibilities and thefundamental satisfaction brought about by our profession?

Regression pro¿le

It is necessary for the analyst to make the analytical situation his own, to ¿nd outwhat kind of analyst he is. I refer to Bion who said to one analyst consulting him:‘The way I do analysis is of no importance to anybody except myself, but it maygive you some idea on how you do analysis, and that is important’ (1978, p. 206).

Many years ago, I noticed that I was going through the process of ¿nding myown way of working by questioning some basic issues. I wanted to invent my ownsolutions to them. At this point, I caught myself planning an action in one of my patients’ treatment which was in many ways against my analytical knowledgeand would have meant partly giving up my position as analyst. I found that I wasunconsciously repeating one of my old patterns. I gained insight into a phenomenonfor which, after much reÀection, I gave the name regression pro¿le. This concept

illustrates one’s particular inner regressive tendencies, which become more active,for instance, in times of crisis.The regression pro¿le de¿nes how we as individuals function in dif¿cult situ-

ations. In the pro¿le, we preserve our unrealistic wishes and regressive tendencies,which have been typical for us for most of our lives. These patterns may stay activeeven when we have become conscious of our traumas and worked through them inanalysis. Early traumas, working through them and integrating them, determine theshape of the pro¿le. We speak about ¿xation and regression in the service of the ego but both concepts are too narrow to describe the phenomenon I refer to. During our personal treatment, we can become conscious of our regressive tendencies, but I donot believe that we are ever able to give them up. Analysis does help us to cope withthem but they will always remain.

Three of the universal basic traumas in human life, according to McDougall(1986, p. 63), are separation from the Other (early helplessness), the traumaticimplications of sexual difference, and the reality of death. I would add the fourth basic trauma, acceptance of the oedipal situation. The regression pro¿le is based onthese traumas and formed by our own individual history. Attempts to resolve these basic traumas take on different forms.



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Early helplessness

We may develop omnipotence to defend against our early helplessness, or possiblywe continuously try to have a symbiotic relation with somebody. The latter means

avoiding differentiation and the feeling of loneliness that inevitably goes with it, aswell as surrendering responsibility for our own life and, simultaneously, the hopethat only autonomy can offer.

Sexual difference

Through our lives, we struggle with the dif¿cult fact that there are two sexes. ‘Theobligation to come to terms with one’s monosexual destiny constitutes one of child-hood’s most severe narcissistic wounds’ (McDougall, 1995, p. XI).

Gender identity is at the core of our autonomy. When it is coherent, we are ableto respect the other sex. Man and woman are different. Bodily differences result indifferent experiences and sensations in all phases of life. They show as differences between man and woman in thinking, symbol formation and ways of doing research

(Kestenberg, 1968). Woman is not able to understand man in the same way as another man, and neither can man understand woman like another woman can. The sex of the analyst and the patient always inÀuences the analytical relationship, but it doesnot determine the success of the treatment. Only the approach is different.

Acceptance of the oedipal situation

Parents have their own sexual relationship and shared emotional reality, but the childis outside of it. ‘The fate of oedipal wishes entails the absolute end of mutuality asregards the most important wish of all, and the child’s utter ineligibility for mutu-ality, with all the feelings of exclusion and humiliation this involves’ (Ikonen, 1998, p. 54). Oedipal libidinal desire is perhaps the most intense desire in human life.

The oedipal conÀict can be only partly resolved and it remains the most importantlandmark in the regression pro¿le.

Death

Mankind has always been in search of immortality by denying the ¿nality of deathin various ways. One believes that death is an experience, not that it is the end of experience (Envall, 1986). The core of narcissism is existence and death is its most powerful opponent.

Forming of the regression pro¿le

The way in which we have been able to integrate these basic traumas forms theframework of the regression pro¿le. When a patient begins his analysis, he uncon-

sciously or consciously wishes to get back what he feels he has lost or what he hasnever had. He will become disappointed and eventually perceive the unreality of these wishes, but he will not give them up.

At least the following means protect the process of coping with the basic traumas:to rule over and get everything, to be better than others, and to be in motion. Theyare used as defences against experiencing these basic traumas.



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These efforts can be of both a progressive and regressive nature; they help usto progress but their regressive quality is an essential part of our regression pro¿le.If we consider our will to rule over and get everything , we can say that, from theregressive point of view, it has led and is still leading to the destruction of our environment. On the psychological level, it means denying and underestimatingthe unconscious, and believing in the superiority of rationality. In analysis, it couldappear as the analyst’s tendency to ‘interpret’ everything, not only to facilitate and promote the patient’s own work.

It has been said that no more than two people are needed for rivalry to arise. Thewill to be superior and dominate can perhaps make us do our best, but it has also ledto terrible catastrophes. History and the present give us numerous cruel examples of the struggles between ‘human races’.

This struggle has also existed between human beings and nature. The differ-ences between animals and human beings have been emphasized. The behaviour of animals has been primarily seen as rigid instinctual functioning, whereas man is free

of instincts. Holmström proposes new views on our evolution and on our relationwith nature:

The Oedipus Complex offers a channel for the controlling of drive energy, which has enabledHomo sapiens to emerge as the winner in evolutionary competition. On the other hand, thecomplex may also represent a fundamental risk factor in terms of our future as a species:oedipal passions, in the form of group phenomena, might lead to mass destruction. (1991,

pp. 310–3)

Being in motion has often been equated with progress. Standstill seems to signifydecline, being close to death, although in fact it could represent real progress.

I believe in progress and openness.

I make progress, because my memory is shorter than the circles I go round.

I am open, for my mind is open to the known.That I shut it off from the unknown,

is not something I remember nor have I been told . (Envall, 1989)

As I have described above, the analyst’s regression pro¿le may have a negativeinÀuence on the analytical process, if the analyst is not in touch with it and is notaware of its inÀuence on his transference to his patient. In the opposite case, theregression pro¿le may become an important informative part of the countertransfer-ence, which can help the analyst to understand his patient better. ‘Access to allhis emotional responses toward the patient is the analyst’s best guarantee againstacting them out as well as against lasting identi¿cations with the patient’s infantileobjects’ (Tähkä, 1993, p. 190).

Analysis is a process including both breaks and regular working periods. Both

phases offer different possibilities for making contact with and exploring our regres-sion pro¿le. I refer to Freud who wrote, in disappointment,

I knew very well of course that anyone may take to Àight at his ¿rst approach to theunwelcome truths of analysis; I had always myself maintained that everyone’s understandingof it is limited by his own repressions (or rather, by the resistances which sustain them) sothat he cannot go beyond a particular point in his relation to analysis. But I had not expected



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that anyone who had reached a certain depth in his understanding of analysis could renouncethat understanding and lose it. And yet daily experience with patients had shown that totalrejection of analytic knowledge may result whenever a specially strong resistance arises atany depth in the mind; one may have succeeded in laboriously bringing a patient to grasp

some parts of analytic knowledge and to handle them like possessions of his own, and yetone may see him, under the domination of the very next resistance, throw all he has learnt tothe winds and stand on the defensive as he did in the days when he was a carefree beginner.I had to learn that the very same thing can happen with psycho-analysts as with patients inanalysis. (1914, p. 48)

The regression pro¿le exists because traumas are sometimes so deep that analysisis not able to neutralize them enough, although psychic balance may have beenreached. One example of this is a long-lasting supervision relationship of mine, inwhich the importance of the suicide of a family member of the supervisee had to bediscovered repeatedly. In spite of long analysis, it always came as a surprise to him.Gabbard once described a rather similar situation in a conference. An experiencedanalyst looking for supervision for the treatment of a suicidal patient contacted him.

The analyst was so afraid of the patient committing suicide that she had begun toful¿l every wish of her patient. She met the patient at any time, accompanied her todifferent social events and so on. It appeared that it was impossible for the analystto be a bad object, in other words, to refuse and set limits, because her own mother had committed suicide.

The examples above underline the importance of supervision. Analytic work is lonely. The analyst who isolates himself from others is at the mercy of his ownregression pro¿le without the support and protection of the analytical society. It isimpossible to preserve an analytical orientation and attitude without being in contactwith colleagues and the analytical literature: the temptation to carry on long, endlessanalytical relationships and the unconscious tendency to act according to one’s ownregression pro¿le are too strong.

Analyst’s phase of life

Professional development

At the beginning of the analyst’s career, professional identity is naturally undevel-oped. Many of the analyst’s actions can therefore serve to build and protect hisown identity. It is not possible to collect and investigate the material, to tolerateuncertainty, because the need to know is primal. Interpretations may mostly bemade to guarantee the analyst’s feeling of analysing, and are not so much based onunderstanding the patient. It takes time before the foundation of analysis, listening , becomes possible.

At the beginning of our analytical career, the most important model of working

is the inner image which we have constructed from our own analysis. It representsour view as a patient and is not identical with the view of our analyst. We may adoptsome ways of working which we follow unconsciously or without understandingtheir meaning, and not even wondering about them. The analytical setting can be acollection of rules for us. By following them, we may imagine that we are doing agood job, although their deeper content and function have not been understood. This



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concerns especially payments, cancellations and different concrete changes in theanalytical setting.

We may ask to what extent identi¿cation with the aggressor has taken place inour own analysis. We may perhaps have been insulted without being conscious of it. We have now, in turn, an unconscious inclination to do the same to our patient;to similarly insult the patient. The analyst may, for instance, easily cancel sessionsif this has been common in his own analysis, and if he has not got in touch with theanxiety and hate it has provoked in him.

Without a doubt we have also been disappointed in our own analysis, our unrealistic wishes have not been ful¿lled. Perhaps we will try to repair our owndisappointments later in our work.

What might be the dangers of long experience? Routine comes to my mind¿rst, loss of sensitivity. Carrying out analysis means having fresh contact withthe material and with one’s own vulnerability. ‘To keep hope alive the analysand delegates it to the analyst. In order for the analysand to get it back again the

analyst has ¿rst to experience losing it ’ (Norman, 1999, p. 143). The analyst candevelop his own theoretical reference, which may gradually become an intactideology.

Personal crisis and the analyst’s ability to work

We have crises in our lives and they inÀuence our work. Crises may help us to seesome issues clearly, but when the details become sharp we can sometimes lose thewhole picture. If we try to keep our own life very isolated from our work, blindnessensues. The analyst has to be able to investigate his crises and their inÀuence on hiswork. For instance, a patient who has similar crises in his life may become very dear to the analyst.

Important events in life include pregnancy, childbirth, personal illness, divorce,

and illness and death in the family. The death of one’s own parent can activate oedipalfeelings and arouse the wish to reject certain patients. Pregnancy and taking careof a newborn baby may make us more sensitive to understanding early dynamics.Simultaneously, sensitivity to conÀicts in later phases may decrease. Analysinginteraction between life and work is central to our everyday work. Gabbard (2003)has published an excellent paper which describes well how the analyst’s own crisesat that time destructively inÀuenced his work.

I present another kind of example of how the analyst’s life events affectanalysis. At the beginning of my analytical career I was breastfeeding my baby.During some patients’ sessions, as a reaction to their material, my breasts beganto leak. The transference of one of my female analysands (four sessions a week on the couch) was very oral; she was using oral regression as a defence against

oedipal conÀicts.[The following vignette is from the ¿rst session after my maternity leave.]

Patient : [smiles] I have not been thinking of you but I have had many dreamsabout you. I have been walking around our house like a small child, not daring to gofar away. I have been eating half a tablet of a relaxing drug every day.



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Analyst : I have been absent but you have had the drug-breast all the time. P : [triumphantly] My mother breastfed me for 2 years at the same time as my

brother.

I was surprised, as she had never talked about this before. She could remember the breastfeeding and how she used to ask her mother to give her ‘yam-yam’, andher mother agreed to it. She had been breastfed for 4 years. Now I began to under-stand the atmosphere in the analysis better; the timelessness and the feeling thateverything was vanishing. The patient described her feelings during several sessionsand wondered why she so often felt she was in the beginning of her analysis, whythe analytic sessions were not connected with each other in her mind, and why shethought so little about her analysis between the sessions.

A: Every session is like a breastfeeding. P [immediately]: I get my stomach full, during the weekends it is more dif¿cult

when we have a longer break.[The moment was very moving for both of us. After the session, she had criedvery bitterly in the toilet of my of¿ce, and she described her feelings in the nextsession.]

P : The toilet was much smaller than before and I was much bigger. I realizedthat I have always been looking for the breast [she used another word common withchildren] but in reality I can’t get it any more.

So, in fact, she had felt like a small child, but now she had a feeling of reallygrowing up.

My pregnancy and childbirth were very useful for this analysis, but this wasnot the case with every patient. My life situation enabled me to understand and

interpret the sessions as breastfeeding, which would not have been possible for me based only on my hitherto analytic experience. However, the interpretation did notwholly arise from my own situation; the patient’s analysis clearly veri¿ed it. Theinterpretation was central to this analysis but so also was my primitive physical ‘countertransference’: during these sessions, my breasts never leaked, although ithappened as a response during some other analyses (Laine, 2004). The analyst isnot able to understand countertransference in the here and now; only retrospectiveunderstanding is possible (Norman, 1999 p. 128).

Ageing

Both the patient’s and the analyst’s ageing has been a problem in psycho analysis.Freud never modi¿ed his sceptical conviction that elderly people, those near or

above the age of 50, would not be able to pro¿t from analysis (Junkers, 2006).Growing old is one crisis in life. Not only do we become wiser, but probably our

regressive tendencies also increase. We may try to escape, for instance, with the helpof new ideologies. Our profession may turn into a disappointment; we may lose trustin it: twice-a-week therapy is better than analysis, or it does not matter how manysessions are needed.



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Ageing may provoke envy towards younger people, which can result in our idealizing or denigrating them. It is important but especially dif¿cult to take one’sown age realistically into consideration.

Fear of death, the ¿nal vanishing of self, is central to growing old. Old peoplehave no future (Hägglund, 1993). In our postmodern culture, it seems that adoles-cence is the longest period of life, childhood has been shortened and old age doesnot exist. Since 1920, fewer than 20 articles related to analysing aged patientshave been published in the International Journal of Psychoanalysis ( IJP ). The book Is it too late? explores analytic work with elderly patients (Junkers, 2006). Itmight also be useful to have papers on the ageing analyst and the analytic processas well as on relations between the ageing analyst and the analytic community.The Oedipus complex will never be completely resolved but it must be met in anew form in every phase of life and every time it is as much hiding as it was inchildhood (Hägglund, 1998).

ConclusionAccording to Freud (1912), for the sake of objectivity, the analyst should not haveany feelings for his patients. As we know, luckily ‘clinical’ Freud was different from‘theoretical’ Freud.

In the beginning, we have norms for what kinds of emotions are allowed towardsthe patient. Some years ago, in an international conference, an older analyst reportedthat she had said to her supervisor how she missed a patient who had ¿nished hisanalysis. The supervisor had advised her to begin a new personal analysis in order to improve her professional skills. This happened some 40 years ago when it wasthought that the ending of the analysis was not supposed to affect the analyst.‘Transferential reactions, including countertransference, mark the limits of people’s

understanding of each other. In psychoanalytic work, detecting countertransferenceand its replacement with informative emotional responses is a never-ending chal-lenge for the analyst’ (Tähkä, 1993, p. 202).

At the core of the analyst’s transference is his own regression pro¿le which hasto be discovered again and again. It is to be hoped that, in personal analysis, theanalyst has achieved a good enough narcissistic equilibrium and tools for processingtransference and countertransference. Continuous self-analysis is essential for under-standing the analyst’s transference and countertransference. The analyst’s phase of life affects his analytical work and understanding of the patient all the time.

Self-analysis has received less attention than it deserves in analytical discussion.Without self-analysis, we will easily lose the consciousness of ourselves which wehave reached during our own analysis. Our patients are an irreplaceable help for us

in maintaining our self-analysis in addition to our dreams and supervision.A metaphor about the sea: anyone who has sailed in an archipelago knows that,

on a long trip, all the islands begin to look alike. If you do not follow the chart, youcan easily get lost. In other words, you have to consult the map, take care, and knowwhere you are coming from and where you are going to. It is easy to forget wherewe started from.



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Dedications and acknowledgements. I dedicate this work to my Norwegian friends whoencouraged me to publish it and whom we lost too early: Marit Os, Erik Helmers and ThoralvScheie Nodland. Acknowledgements to my patients, to V. Manninen and the members of hiswriting seminar, to the IJP referees and to my daughter.

Translations of summary

Auf schmalem Grat: die Übertragung des Psychoanalytikers. Die Gegenübertragung ist ein zentralesThema in der analytischen Arbeit und in der Literatur. Dem Gegenübertragungskonzept implizit ist einegrundlegende Frage, die auf unterschiedliche Weise beantwortet wurde. Dieser Beitrag versucht, dieÜbertragung des Psychoanalytikers von seiner Gegenübertragung zu unterscheiden, obgleich es sehr schwierig ist, sie gegeneinander abzugrenzen. Der Grat zwischen ihnen ist schmal. Die Übertragung desAnalytikers wird anhand von drei Aspekten erforscht und beschrieben: Narzissmus, Regressionspro¿l undLebensphase des Analytikers. Das Regressionspro¿l ist ein neues, von der Autorin entwickeltes Konzept.Es kann uns dabei helfen, den Kern der Übertragung des Analytikers in der analytischen Situation zuverstehen. Illustriert wird das Thema durch klinische Vignetten.

Al límite: la transferencia del psicoanalista. La contratransferencia es un tema central en el trabajoanalítico y en la literatura. El concepto de contratransferencia incluye una cuestión básica que ha sido

interpretada de diferentes maneras. Este trabajo intenta diferenciar la transferencia del analista de sucontratransferencia, aunque es difícil trazar una línea entre ellas. Está al límite. Se explora y describe latransferencia del analista mediante tres enfoques: el narcisismo, el per¿l de regresión y la fase de vida delanalista. El per¿l de regresión es un concepto nuevo desarrollado por la autora, que puede ayudarnos acomprender el núcleo de la transferencia del analista en la situación analítica. El argumento viene ademásilustrado por algunas viñetas clínicas.

Sur la limite : le transfert du psychanalyste. Le contre-transfert représente un point central du travailanalytique et de la bibliographie. Ce qui est inclus dans le concept de contre-transfert est une questionde base, qui a été comprise de façons diverses. Le présent article essaie de différencier le transfert du

psychanalyste de son contre-transfert, bien qu’il soit dif¿cile de tracer une ligne de démarcation entreles deux. La question est sur la limite. Le transfert de l’analyste sera exploré et décrit en utilisant troisapproches : narcissisme, pro¿l de la régression et phase de vie de l’analyste. Le pro¿l de la régression est unnouveau concept développé par l’auteur. Il pourrait aider à comprendre le noyau du transfert de l’analystedans la situation analytique. Le propos sera illustré de vignettes cliniques.

Sul crinale:il transfert dello psicoanalista. Il controtransfert è un argomento centrale nel lavoro analitico enella letteratura. Nel concetto di controtransfert è insita una questione fondamentale che è stata interpretatain vari modi. Il presente lavoro cerca di differenziare il transfert dello psicoanalista dal suo controtransfertsebbene sia dif¿cile tracciare una linea tra i due. Si tratta di un con¿ne sottile. Il transfert dell’analistaviene analizzato e descritto usando tre approcci: il narcisismo, il pro¿lo di regressione e la fase della vitadell’analista. Il pro¿lo di regressione è un nuovo concetto sviluppato dallo scrittore. Potrebbe aiutarci acapire il nucleo del transfert dell’analista nella situazione analitica. L’argomento verrà illustrato con dellevignette cliniche.

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