Ilze Berzins

There are key words, dropped casually at some cocktail party or inadvertently at a business meeting, which get my ears up.

“Bla… bla… bla… Jung… bla…”

Say what?

In all this mess of words did you say Jung? Did you, in fact, say Carl Gustav Jung?

O.K. he’s dead and he’s not the Dalai Lama who’s alive and my number one spiritual leader but Carl Jung is still up there.

Who would have thought that a realtor would have dropped this name in amongst the spiel of marketing my dream house? But he did.

As you know, I don’t use real names for realtors, so this guy will be known as Max.

I like him. So does my husband.

Max tells us that he’s into MBTI.

That gets my interest too.

I know about EST. That’s where, years ago, they had you holed up in a hotel without bathroom breaks to the tune of $800 in order to expand your potential.

So what’s MBTI?

After Max left our house I googled.

Max was speaking about the Myers Briggs Type Indicator. Apparently he’s an instructor.

Of course I immediately wondered if this is a cult. What have we here?

Searching my memory I do recall this stuff being brought up in seminars when I was doing my MA in Art Education at Sir George Williams (now Concordia).

So this is legit, socially acceptable. The guy’s not a Hare Krishna or a Moonie.

What can I say? My husband and I both like him so my Mental Health days are over and it’s time to market.


Comments:

2 Responses to “JUNGIAN CONNECTION IN SCRAGSVILLE”

  1. Louise writes:

    Oh la la! Are you an easy mark! Sponge Bob Square Pants buys a coupla books and you’re all over him. Now what?
    Max stares you down with his penetrating gaze and uses the J word and you flip again.
    I’m worried, girlfriend.

  2. ilzeberzins writes:

    Jeeze Louise! I’m now heavily into MBTI so leave me alone.

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