What is the "Real Work" of the Enneagram?

 Originally posted November 1, 2011

Claudio Naranjo in Berkeley 1971-1976

I have been personally engaged in the study of the Enneagram since 1972 when I began four years of intense personal work in Claudio Naranjo’s SAT group. Until now I have only spoken privately with friends about the proliferation of books, teachers and controversy about the Enneagram. In all the hubbub, I hope that the real value of this work is not lost or diluted to the point that it becomes no more than an interesting curiosity.

This was the first of a series of articles about the Enneagram, its history and use as well as its spread among the Jesuits.  I created a database, An Enneagram Bibliography using online resources as well as the recommendations of Enneagram students. I have included books, studies, DVD’s, tapes and other materials that deal primarily deal with the Enneagram as it is presented in the West plus materials from the Gurdjeiff sources which contain information of interest to the Enneagram enthusiast.

One current myth about the Western transmission of the Enneagram runs something like this: in the early 1970’s, Claudio Naranjo, fresh from his short and incomplete training with Oscar Ichazo in Arica Chile, begins a tentative conversation with a select group of therapists and teachers in a Berkeley living room. He distributes crudely mimeographed nine pointed figures to the experienced self-observers he has called together to flesh out the sketchy outline of personality characteristics that Ichazo had developed for each point. Then these highly trained psychologists and teachers set about the task of connecting Claudio's and Ichazo’s fragmentary notes with well documented psychological research and the best diagnostic tests.

As someone who is devoted to the study of ideas and the ways in which they shape culture, I love stories of discovery and invention. Some of the stories are obviously self-serving while others have the ring of real experience. In either case, still filled with many assumptions, obvious and hidden, they are rich in information.

Sometimes it is very clear that the myth itself is part of the teaching method—for example, a great Japanese Zen Master copied a key koan collection the night before he secretly left China. His teaching emphasized the immediacy of zen insight, diligence of practice and the spontaneous breakthrough: stay up through the night and enter a new world before the sun lights your ordinary one.

In other cases the myth supports the domination of one school over another. Elaine Pagels and others have shown convincingly that the Council of Constantine authorized only the Jesus Teachings that supported the authority of the bishop of Rome as opposed to the Gnostic teachings that were equally prevalent in early Christianity. This move was so successful in suppressing an idiosyncratic teaching that we only knew about these sects from the polemical literature written to brand them as heretical until the remnants of a Gnostic library were discovered in the Egyptian desert in 1948.

I think that both these motivations can be found in the Enneagram myth: an early substantiation of the early link between Enneagram study and serious, scientific psychological investigation, and secondly, that the basic elements of Helen Palmer’s “authentic” narrative tradition come from the “Source” itself and were somehow misplaced.

I do not wish to sound mean-spirited, but this smells like either a carefully crafted version to promote Palmer’s teaching or, at best, her followers over-simplified reading of history in the light of their experience and what they have been told about her oral teaching method and her sources in Naranjo’s work. Any myth, distortion or fabrication that is in the public record or published materials is fair game. I would like to describe that seminal period from my own experience.

In the Fall of 1971, Claudio Nanranjo began to teach a small number of students in Berkeley (beginning with 25 to 30, SAT grew to more than 100 by 1975). He had recently returned from Arica where he had been part of another group of 50 Americans, self-selected from the vanguard of people who represented the new thinking centered in Esalen California, the first Americans to work with Oscar Ichazo. Aside from Naranjo, John Lilly was the most prominent, and the most steadfastly insistent on maintaining an independent stance.

I estimate that Naranjo spent more than two years connected to Ichazo and Arica, whether in preparation, traveling, conversations with Ichazo, participating in all the exercises in that first Arica Training as well as experiences where Ichazo directed him personally. (Claudio, for example, did live in a solitary retreat for 40 days in the Arican desert - his only contact with other humans was Ichazo driving out to see him everyday). I will let Naranjo speak for himself about these experiences as he has done in his teaching and writing and will certainly continue to do in the future.

When I joined SAT in September of 1972, I found myself in a more ordinary group than the Arica pioneers from Esalen. We were relatively younger, perfect students for Claudio’s teaching, spiritual idealists of the 60’s generation, liberated in our attitudes towards sex and drugs, deserted by the faiths of our collective fathers and mothers, holding strongly to the idea that spiritual practice could overcome the ills of society that was becoming increasingly materialistic and egocentric, aggressive and greedy. There were a few Ph.D.’s, several Ph.D. candidates, two priests, a Jesuit and a Franciscan, medical doctors, school teachers, a designer, several carpenters, a sprinkling of licensed therapists, but far more therapists in training. A good cross section of ordinary, highly educated, college town Berkeleyites.

We worked together at general meetings on Tuesday or Thursday evenings—these were shock points, times according to some Sufi tradition, when real change was possible. At other times during the week, we also broke into small group meetings. Most of us meditated for at least a half hour everyday, wrote in our journals, focused our work, our self-remembering, through directed exercises that were suggested, or “indicated,” by Claudio and delivered by either Rosalyn Schaffer or Kathy Speeth (who as a child sat in the lap of Mr. Gurdjeiff and taught us the sacred dances, the “movements” of Gurdjeiff).

Frequently on Saturdays and Sundays, Claudio sat on a tattered sofa in the large living room of an old fraternity house on Hearst Avenue while we sat on the floor. Claudio would begin saying, “Let’s do zazen,” and we sat in meditation for an hour. Then Claudio began to talk informally, exploring points on the Enneagram, asking questions, telling Sufi teaching stories about a character called Mullah Nasrudin, even stories about cats. (I can remember that Sunday very well because by the next Friday I owned two stray cats). There were many references to G.I. Gurdjeiff, the trickster; Claudio was very familiar with the work of Gurdjeiff though he never claimed that he had ever been trained or authorized by any of Gurdjeiff’s successors.

It was always a lively conversation. Claudio drew on his expertise as Fritz Perls's foremost disciple and explored conjunction of meditation and psychological practice. There was always psychological work. It was also creative and challenging; for example, as a classical pianist, he created mediation experiences with Beethoven symphonies.

One thing was clear to all of us: Claudio Naranjo was, during that period of time, an inspired teacher. Something of a momentous spiritual nature had happened to him in Arica, and we were present while he was unpacking that inspiration. We were part of a great experience, willing guinea pigs in a psychological spiritual experiment.

This first use of the Enneagram as a teaching tool for spiritual growth and inner work was not delivered on crudely mimeographed diagrams although there were copies of Enneagrams that we used to make our own notes and observations. Claudio Naranjo developed and tested his work in real situations with a group of bright people who were dedicated to self-understanding and deep inner work. It felt more like a crucible than a study group. It certainly was not just the intellectual exercise that is portrayed in the literature that began to appear about 10 years after Claudio finished his initial work.

In the next post I will try to probe the muddied origins of the Enneagram, looking for signs of its descent in psychobabble.

To review my Enneagram bibliography, please follow the link.

© Kenneth Ireland, 2011

How I moved from Point 7 to 9

Mr. Gurdjeiff’s ‘chief characteristic’ and getting your type on the Enneagram.

Or how I went from Point 7 to 9.

Reading the memoirs of C.S. Nott, Teachings of Gurdjieff: A Pupil's Journal, I got a glimpse of what it might have been like to work with Mr. Gurdjieff in a way that’s somewhat similar to our current work with the Enneagram. Shortly after the liberation of Paris, amidst seemingly endless, exacting meal preparations, dinner toasts, music and piercing conversation in his Paris flat, Nott details G working with two young women, new students from England, who have to catch the night train to Dieppe and return to London. In a series of short, intense meetings with G, these students define their ‘chief characteristic’ in a precise way that they could use as they set out on the path of self-remembering. The urgency of discovery is sketched out in simple, direct language.

There is, however, no mention of the Enneagram, no evidence that G used the Enneagram to identify the ‘chief characteristic.’ I find it puzzling that if G did use the Enneagram in this way, we find no clear reference to it in his early students’ accounts. But what we do find is interesting: that the students were equipped with personal, precise, and exacting tools for self observation; that defining one’s chief characteristic was a process, a conversation with the teacher; and that it was something that the student him or herself did as part of their inner work.

Fast forward to late Spring 1975. I am in a large living room on the Arlington in Berkeley. Kathy Speeth has organized a series of nine evening presentations about the Enneagram for the “therapeutic” community. In attendance 15 or so therapists who are interested in the Enneagram but not members of Claudio’s SAT group. Among them is Helen Palmer, who has been hearing about the Enneagram from Claudio’s students in her own practice of psychic readings.

I remember those conversations quite clearly. They were a departure from the usual work of his SAT group. Kathy and Bob Ochs had asked me to be on a ‘panel’ of Seven’s, ego ‘Plan’ as both Ichazo and Naranjo referred to the point “Gluttony;” this was the first time several people of the same fixation spoke in front of a group and answered questions.

Claudio directed, laying a foundation with descriptions of the 9 points. In itself this was not unusual, but his comments were definitely tailored for an audience of trained psychologists, and not the more conversational tone aimed at a student’s personal work that he normally used. The authentic tone of self observation may have been present, but I felt that the obligation of explanation (perhaps performance) distorted the feeling of each point.

In my previous work in SAT, senior students were most involved in what we called proto-typing. In my case Bob Ochs, the Jesuit priest among Claudio’s original students, was my primary source for helping me determine my fixation. Ochs had organized a study group in Chicago shortly after he joined Claudio’s group, and the following Fall he offered a course on the Enneagram at the Jesuit School of Theology in Berkeley where I was a student. He followed the usual academic format—14 weeks of lectures plus additional work—but his presentations and assignments were not the usual seminary fare. By Christmas of that first year, most members of Ochs’ class were typed. He said I was a seven, a ‘classic’ seven, a sexual seven which became the point I worked with for my entire time in SAT.

And so at the invitation of Kathy and Bob, I shared my understanding of ‘Plan’ during those first panels. At one point, Claudio turned to me and asked: “Are you sure you’re a 7?” “Of course,” I said with a laugh. Claudio said, “Ah, there it is. Listen to that laugh. Ken really believes that everything will turn out. That is a clear sign of point 7—the conviction that everything is OK.”

Fast forward again, this time 25 years. It is 1996 and I am taking care of a mutual friend, Bob Hoffman, who is dying of cancer. Claudio, back in Berkeley after teaching in Spain, visits often. One morning as he is leaving, he turns to me and asks, “Did I type you a 7?” “Yes you did” I answered with certainty. (Didn’t he remember?) “I must have been crazy,” Claudio laughs. “You are a 9. No 7 has your earthy sense of humor. If you look for ways to take care of yourself, I think that you will discover a rich vein.”

Of course I knew point 9, and I knew in an instant that Claudio had nailed me. I had been in the conversation too long not to recognize the truth. The 9 is blinded by forgetfulness of self. I was sick and upset for a full week before that split second’s observation, saying goodbye and opening a door to a world that fit me exactly. (I have never seen convincing evidence that any of the Enneagram tests are reliable, but I am convinced that physiological reactions are strong indicators that you have really understood yourself on the Enneagram. Trust yourself, all of yourself, even when you don’t quite feel like yourself.)

So, why am I telling this story? Certainly not to discredit Claudio or his teaching methods or what might appear to be an oversight. My 5 years with him changed the direction of my life. I love life—before I only pretended to love it. Is this a confessional for my own slowness to learn and understand? I hope not. I certainly do not feel that I wasted 25 years thinking that I was a 7. Is it to discredit the understanding of any particular teacher or school? That is not my intention, but I might try to issue a grentle warning not to give yourself over completely to any teacher, in any circumstance—even if they are Jesuits.

Discerning your point on the Enneagram may be instantaneous or it may take years. Certainly don’t be disheartened if you leave your first weekend with no clear idea of your fixation. It is really OK not to know, to be hesitant, or even to change your mind as your understanding and your experience of self deepens.

Or to ask the question in another way: is it also OK to live your life on the assumption that you are not the person you thought, or have been told, you are? Of course. That’s the way that most people live, and they may or may not suffer. Of course my choice would be to live life as honestly and authentically as possible. But it’s also my experience that even when I’ve been blessed with a bright flash of an extraordinary insight, real changes have appeared incrementally, slowly, and even painfully.

As our own understanding increases, we contribute to everyone’s understanding. Any powerful, genuine insight into the mind’s inner workings takes time to sort itself out and make itself useful. Exaggerations, missteps, and unfortunately misuse of the Teaching hurt people rather than liberate them, but conversation and debate are always a healthy antidote if intentions are not self-serving.

There is I think a real lesson in the sense of urgency presented in the story about G’s young women students working to discover their Chief Characteristic in his Paris flat. Especially for me, a 9, it is a task to learn introspection without a lot of plodding and fussing. The ride through Paris to the Gare du Nord is in fact really wonderful. On the other hand tripping out about an imaginary trip to Paris is a waste of time.

Notes on further reading.

Among the many wonderful accounts of Gurdjieff’s teaching, Nott’s is only one. In my view, reading Claudio Naranjo is essential for any student of the Enneagram. I have also written at more length about my own experience with Claudio and the early SAT group on my blog “All and Everything Enneagram.” Please leave any comments, questions, and observations you want.