The First Six Oxen

Reading again last night one of the books of Viktor Frankl, the Austrian founder of Logotherapy,  a psychotherapy centered on Meaning, I was surprised to wake up this morning reminded of the famous ox-herding pictures of Zen Buddhism. That puzzled me for a while until the association began to make sense. On that in a moment.

The ten ox-herding pictures are an important part of Zen teaching, almost unavoidable for anyone who looks into the subject. They represent the soul’s development in stages, in which the ox represents the quest itself—but only for a while. The pictures we now have came from a Chinese artist, Kakuan Shien; he lived in the twelfth century and himself copied some even earlier depictions. What the ox actually represents is not defined in the original verses that accompany the images. Perhaps it is the quest itself, becoming more and more dominant. I provide this link to a site where the images are shown with the traditional verses beneath. The essence is that the ox must be found, caught, tamed, and finally ridden—and after that it is forgotten but—and it is an important but—the final source (of something) is ultimately reached. After that, in the last image, the disciple once more returns to society. The eighth picture, when both the ox and the self have been transcended, is blank.

Now for my association. I am a great admirer of Frankl’s psychotherapy. It is the only one that encompasses the whole human being, including the soul, the human being’s transcending core. But Frankl (1905-1997) was a transitional figure. Freudian and Adlerian analysis were dominant as he forged his own views. The Freudian is based on the pleasure principle, the Adlerian on the will to power or status. They are lower drives which, when frustrated, can produce psychiatric problems. Frankl sternly critiqued both. His own view was that the deepest human drive is to discover meaning. But in the process of ministering to the human need for the transcending, a border, you might say, must be crossed—between the physical, where medicine mostly operates, and the spiritual, where the cry for meaning arises. And Frankl had to stand astride that divide. He wished to help his patients but could not enter the religious ranges that open up as soon as Meaning is written with a leading cap.

Therefore, in light of Kakuan’s ten ox-herding pictures, Frankl could only deal with the first six—wherein the patient is searching, first without knowing much but in agitation, then by following tracks, then sighting the ox, and so on. But Frankl had to stay with the ox until the patient could ride it. He could not go beyond that stage. Whatever follows then is up to the patient, helped by religious guides. Therefore Frankl’s own series ends a little prematurely—and reading his book, his hesitation to go on had reached me consciously. And then, while sleeping, my hidden self produced the images that explained my sense of unease. There are ranges where the MD can no longer help you.