Damián Ruiz

I have a problem, and it is that everything strikes me as very old-fashioned. It is not a question of age; I have always viewed life through that particular lens.

A society that needs to evolve

It seems terribly outdated to me to live surrounded by exhaust pipes that pollute, by divorces conducted with knives drawn, by the constant shouting of children — the offspring of parents who still have not realised that the species has evolved —, by the stale traditionalism that continually feeds upon itself by doing exactly the same things over and over again, by the fact that some young people still have to explain their sexual orientation while waiting to see how those around them will react, by the excessive emotionalisation of certain trivialities, by the lack of pragmatism when it comes to making important decisions, by living under the tyranny of “what will people say?” (something very outdated indeed), by transgenerational loyalty that sacrifices genuine personality, or by fanatical idolisation, something only justifiable during adolescence.

The “petit bourgeois” traditionalism — sometimes I wonder whether these professional middle classes, to which I supposedly belong, derive anything at all from everything with which they have nourished themselves culturally, books, films, exhibitions and so forth, that might serve to alter even slightly the inertia of their lives — and that of the working classes, which can also become tyrannical towards those who display a little more independence.

Freedom as personal transformation

I should state for the record my existential optimism, something that has accompanied me even through the worst moments, but I cannot help thinking that, at this stage in the history of our species, we are still so basic in the way we approach life. It is true that we need human community, emotional bonds and routines that give our lives structure, but none of this can become a form of servitude. One has the right to come and go, to feel or to cease feeling, to free oneself from patterns into which one does not fit, and to question important aspects of life.

And I say all this from a rather conservative and institutionalist position. I am not particularly in favour of meaningless lives, nor of adults who remain adolescents, but there is a considerable difference between that and allowing existence to proceed like a tram running along its tracks.

Embracing change and questioning old patterns

We possess the capacity to transform ourselves, to accept change both in ourselves and in others, to be cognitively flexible and to be guided more by our own ethics than by inherited moral platitudes which, on many occasions, serve only to provide quiet satisfaction to covert narcissists occupying positions of hierarchical dominance.

Expressing affection without fear

It is also important to be less afraid of expressing our affections — it is worth remembering that not everything is about sex. What I mean is that it is entirely possible to care deeply for someone of one’s own sex or of the opposite sex, to express those feelings openly, and for there to be no sexual connotation whatsoever. I write this because everything has become so laden with hysteria that soon we shall no longer know how to communicate, least of all with strangers.

The right to reinvent yourself

Ultimately, it is never too late to become a little freer and to live with greater independence, which does not imply abandoning responsibilities or ceasing to be affectionate towards those who need it most.

At any age, we are capable of introducing important changes, and these often begin with a different way of seeing things and, above all, with the respect we owe ourselves when dissenting from what is considered the majority view, whether within the family or in society at large.

The right to reinvent oneself will soon become a necessity, and that will require a degree of ease, self-knowledge and existential creativity.

Damián Ruiz
Barcelona, July 2026
www.damianruiz.eu

La entrada Transformation se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

On one occasion, in the living room of her home in Madrid, our dear friend Leddys — sadly no longer with us, a Cuban woman of Catalan origin who had been exiled to Miami because of the Castro dictatorship and who eventually settled in the capital of the kingdom —, when I mentioned to her that I would be travelling to Vienna at the end of August for a psychology conference, it must have been spring at the time, uttered one of those phrases that I always found deeply endearing: “Duchesses do not return to Vienna until the second half of September.”

Leddys was an expert on the history of European monarchies, though especially on that of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and she knew the subject so intimately that she referred to members of the former royal families by the nicknames or diminutives they used amongst themselves.

She had developed such familiarity with all those imperial “relatives”, some of them rather distant indeed, that within her inner universe she felt herself to be one of them.

And she expressed none of this with arrogance, nor in any affected manner; it had become something entirely natural to her, the consequence of countless hours devoted to reading and researching that aristocratic world, to the point where she perceived it as an extension of her everyday reality.

As for me, the first time I watched À bout de souffle, one of my films, particularly that moment when Jean Seberg appears selling the New York Herald Tribune along the Champs-Élysées in Paris, I immediately understood that all those hours spent reading, watching documentaries, films, and listening to music connected with that city had suddenly acquired profound meaning.

There I was, projected into that rogue played by Jean-Paul Belmondo, casually conversing with the young woman with whom he is about to fall deeply in love.

And there too was that enduring youthfulness which never entirely leaves us, despite the passing years, along with that sense of lightness — entirely removed from melodrama — through which life unfolds when we allow it to, and which becomes so much easier when we surrender ourselves to it.

To devote hours to Franz Joseph I of Austria, or to the intellectuals who frequented the Café de Flore in Paris during the existentialist years, or to the pyramids of Egypt, or to the origins of rock music, or to the French Impressionists, or…

It is a way of cultivating the spirit so that, when one encounters the appropriate circumstance — a nocturnal walk through the Austrian capital, for instance — the soul may blossom and one begins to perceive far more than postcards or empty photographs intended for Instagram.

To educate oneself culturally is one of the finest ways of strengthening oneself internally, and of experiencing existence in a far more intense and meaningful way.

Culture does not require university degrees, but rather the willingness to know, to delve deeper, to dedicate time, and above all, not to remain trapped within clichés, stereotypes, fashions, or excessively popular distractions.

Leddys was Borgesian (in the sense of Borges); she inhabited her own universe and, in some way, regarded society as mere scenery, since many of its features had ceased to resonate with her altogether.

Perhaps it is unnecessary to go quite that far, but distancing oneself from so much triviality, so many commonplaces, so much senseless polarisation, so much victimhood and hysteria, in order to gradually construct one’s own inner imaginative world, is an excellent way of preserving a solid mental and existential footing.

The duchesses, sadly, no longer return to Vienna once summer ends, but one can still, despite the age of pragmatism, continue travelling to other cities and other eras simply by closing one’s eyes.

And the truth is that age matters very little if one can still fall in love, over and over again, with that blonde American girl who cries out “New York Herald Tribune!” in an era when freedom was just beginning, and when we had not yet come to live beneath the suffocating weight imposed by the fragile of spirit.

Damián Ruiz
Barcelona, June 2026
www.damianruiz.eu

La entrada The Duchesses, or the Construction of the Inner Imagination se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

Jungian analysis is based on the idea that the human psyche is far broader than what we normally perceive consciously. According to this perspective, developed by Carl Gustav Jung, a large part of our personality, our motivations and our conflicts are located in areas of the mind that we do not usually recognise. The Jungian approach proposes that, through the therapeutic process, it is possible to approach these unconscious contents and discover aspects of oneself that had until then remained hidden. To this end, techniques such as sandplay, active imagination, symbolic work with dreams, with archetypes, or with elements of synchronicity are used.

One of the foundations of Jungian thought is that the unconscious is not only a place where repressed memories are stored, but also a creative space full of potential. In this sense, Jungian analysis does not focus solely on relieving symptoms, but on fostering a process of deep self-knowledge. Through, as mentioned above, work with dreams, symbols, active imagination and therapeutic dialogue, Jungian therapy attempts to reveal inner patterns that influence everyday life without the person being fully aware of them.

As the person explores these contents, they begin to recognise parts of themselves that they may have ignored or rejected. The Jungian approach calls this process “individuation”, that is, the progressive development of the personality towards greater integration. Jungian psychology maintains that each individual possesses unique potentialities that may become blocked by fears, social expectations or past experiences. Jungian therapeutic work helps to identify these inner limitations and transform them.

Another important dimension of Jungian analysis is the recognition of archetypes, universal patterns that structure many of our psychological experiences. Understanding how these archetypes operate in personal life can offer a new perspective on conflicts, decisions and relationships. From this Jungian perspective, many life crises are not simply problems that must be eliminated, but opportunities for deeper psychological growth.

For this reason, Jungian therapy can act as a stimulus for life. By discovering inner dimensions that were previously unknown, the person expands their sense of identity and finds new possibilities for action. Jungian analysis does not seek to impose a model of how someone ought to be, but rather to accompany the person in discovering their own path. And sometimes that path can be surprising.

Ultimately, the Jungian perspective proposes that self-knowledge is not a final destination, but an ongoing process. Through therapeutic dialogue and symbolic exploration, the Jungian approach invites us to look inward in order to better understand our own lives. In this way, Jungian work can become a valuable tool for developing previously unknown aspects of oneself and opening new directions for personal growth.

Damián Ruiz
Barcelona, March 2026
www.damianruiz.eu

La entrada Jungian Analysis and Therapy se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

Damián Ruiz

Introductory Prologue to the Seminar–Lecture delivered on February 27 at ISCREB in Barcelona by Damián Ruiz, General Health Psychologist (COPC) and Jungian Analyst (member of the Jung Institute of Barcelona and the IAAP)

Let us imagine that a person begins to cough.
The cough may be mild and temporary, as in the case of a common cold. It may be dry and irritating, resulting from allergies or environmental pollution. It may be productive, accompanied by mucus, indicating a respiratory infection. It may be persistent and chronic, as in asthma or chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. It may signal the onset of pneumonia. It may be a symptom of gastroesophageal reflux. In more serious cases, it may be the first sign of tuberculosis or even lung cancer.

In all these cases, the cough is not the disease. It is the symptom.

It is the visible manifestation of an underlying organic process. A responsible physician does not simply suppress it without further inquiry. They question its origin, investigate its cause, and examine the clinical context. The cough is a signal. The objective is not to silence the signal, but to understand what is producing it.

Now let us imagine a different scenario.

Suppose that medical institutions, political organizations, and the healthcare system decided to invest all their resources exclusively in making the cough disappear. Powerful antitussive drugs are developed. Effective protocols are created to reduce the cough reflex. Studies are published demonstrating a statistical decrease in coughing episodes across the population.

Some professionals succeed in eliminating the cough in most patients, regardless of its origin. An academic, institutional, and economic movement emerges in support of those who have “cured the cough.”

But the pulmonary, infectious, or inflammatory problem underlying it remains intact.

Some patients will later develop complications. Others will learn to live with the underlying cause as long as the cough is controlled. Statistics will show symptomatic success. However, the root of the problem will not have been addressed.

This scenario, which would be unacceptable in medicine, is strikingly familiar in the field of obsessive-compulsive disorder.

OCD is a symptom. Beyond a possible genetic predisposition, it often emerges in the context of traumatic, stressful, or disorganizing circumstances, whether acute or prolonged, frequently during childhood or adolescence. Obsessions and compulsions constitute the visible manifestation—the tip of the iceberg—of a psychic structure that has been organized around fear, insecurity, and the need for control.

The obsessive symptom is not the essential problem. It is the expression of a deeper conflict.

However, what is widely validated at present is the reduction of the symptom: eliminating the “cough” or learning to manage it in the most functional way possible. What often remains in the background is the question that in medicine would be mandatory: what is producing this cough? What underlying process is generating the symptom?

In the psychological domain, the equivalent question would be: what psychic structure, what early experiences, what relational and symbolic configurations have given rise to the appearance of obsessions and compulsions?

It is striking that what would never be permitted in medicine—ignoring the organic cause of a symptom and limiting intervention to its suppression—can be considered sufficient in psychology.

The cough is not the disease.
OCD is not the root of the conflict.

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La entrada Cough and OCD se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

Damián Ruiz

What is Jungian therapy?

Jungian therapy is a process of deep self-knowledge and psychological development aimed at expanding consciousness and establishing a dialogue with the unconscious. Jungian therapy is not primarily focused on symptom elimination, but on accompanying the process of individuation.

Online Jungian therapy: an effective modality

Jungian therapy delivered online has become a solid and effective modality when supported by a clear therapeutic framework and a consistent therapeutic relationship. Jungian therapy does not depend on physical space, but on the relational field that develops between therapist and patient.

Working from a familiar environment can facilitate emotional expression and support continuity of the therapeutic process.

Therapeutic work in Jungian therapy

In Jungian therapy, work focuses on dreams, complexes, symbolic material, archetypal dynamics and unconscious conflicts. Jungian therapy requires time, rhythm and commitment, which is why weekly sessions are generally recommended, although fortnightly sessions may be appropriate at certain stages of the process.

Jungian therapy online allows psychological work to be integrated into everyday life while maintaining the depth and clinical rigour characteristic of this approach.

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La entrada Jungian Therapy Online: Deep Self-Knowledge and Personal Development se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

Damián Ruiz

Understanding addictions beyond behaviour

Addictions represent one of the most complex clinical challenges in psychotherapy. From the perspective of analytical psychology, addictions are understood as attempts to compensate for an inner void, a loss of meaning, or a difficulty in symbolising emotional experience.

This approach makes it possible to see that addictions are not limited to a specific substance or behaviour, but rather express a deeper conflict in the individual’s relationship with themselves.

Therapeutic treatment of addictions

Clinical work with addictions requires a specific therapeutic framework, clearly differentiated from classical Jungian analysis, while still grounded in its depth understanding of the psyche. The therapeutic process does not focus solely on controlling addictive behaviour, but on rebuilding the relationship with desire, meaning and personal identity.

Addictions often involve long and demanding therapeutic processes, in which continuity and consistency of treatment are essential.

Online therapy and addictions

Online therapy facilitates sustained therapeutic support in processes involving addictions, reducing interruptions and enhancing treatment stability. Working with addictions from an integrative Jungian orientation allows therapy to move beyond symptom management and promote deep, lasting psychological change.

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La entrada Addictions: Therapeutic Support from a Jungian-Based Approach se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

Damián Ruiz

Understanding TOC from a depth psychology perspective

TOC (commonly known in English as obsessive–compulsive disorder) is a complex psychological condition that cannot be reduced solely to intrusive thoughts or repetitive behaviours. From a Jungian and integrative perspective, TOC is understood as the expression of deep psychic conflicts related to control, guilt, emotional ambivalence and difficulty tolerating uncertainty.

TOC is not merely an isolated symptom, but a specific form of psychic organisation that fulfils a defensive function. For this reason, therapeutic work with TOC requires a rigorous and clearly differentiated clinical framework.

Online therapy for TOC: effectiveness and continuity

Online therapy has proven to be an effective modality in the treatment of TOC, as it allows therapeutic intervention to take place directly within the everyday context in which obsessions and compulsive rituals arise. This framework supports continuity of treatment and greater patient engagement.

Working with TOC from a Jungian foundation involves addressing both the symptom itself and its deeper psychological meaning, integrating additional clinical tools when necessary. In most cases, weekly sessions are recommended, particularly during active phases of TOC.

An integrative approach to TOC

The treatment of TOC from this perspective does not focus exclusively on symptom reduction, but on understanding the function of the symptom, allowing for a more stable and profound psychological transformation.

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La entrada TOC: Deep Therapeutic Treatment from a Jungian Perspective se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

Jungian analysis, developed by Carl Gustav Jung, gives a central place to dreams as a path to the unconscious. Unlike other psychological approaches, junguiàn analysis sees dreams not merely as expressions of repressed wishes, but as symbolic messages that reveal the process of individuation — the journey toward the psychic wholeness of the individual.

During a jungian analysis, dreams are interpreted not in a literal sense, but symbolically. Each image, each dream scene, is examined as a representation of inner forces, archetypes, and unknown aspects of the personality. The analyst does not impose fixed meanings but accompanies the dreamer in discovering the personal significance of the symbols that arise in their psychic life.

The method of working in jungian analysis involves recording dreams, analyzing them in their emotional and life context, and drawing connections between dream images and universal myths. Jung observed that the symbols appearing in dreams are linked to collective human patterns — the hero, the shadow, the anima, or the wise old man. Recognizing these figures helps the individual understand inner conflicts and reconcile opposing aspects of the self.

Within jungian analysis, dreams are also interpreted prospectively. This means that, beyond reflecting the current state of the psyche, they may anticipate possibilities for growth or warn of potential imbalances. In this way, the dream becomes an inner guide that points toward psychological development.

Finally, dream analysis goes beyond intellectual understanding. In junguiàn analysis, patients are encouraged to engage actively with the images of their dreams through active imagination, painting, or symbolic writing. Thus, working with dreams becomes a creative and transformative process that fosters the integration of the unconscious with consciousness.

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La entrada Dream Analysis in a Jungian Analysis se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

The lack of new perspectives, horizons, openness to what is new, to history, or to knowledge in all its forms—especially to the arts and literature—gradually produces a certain cognitive rigidity as the years pass.
That is to say, the brain functions on repetitive information or, worse still, on information consumed through social media and the internet, which provides no personal experience at all.
Going out into the world, regardless of economic conditions—myself, in my youth, I travelled by coach, train or hitchhiking, and I slept in hostels, boarding houses, student residences, some not particularly recommendable places—is something everyone should aspire to. But not for the empty exercise of postcard tourism, which offers nothing or very little and serves mainly for Instagram photos, but for the experience of discovering something new, including customs and mentalities different from our own, which can provide a different vision of reality.

For me, Barcelona, my city, has always seemed charming but small, in the sense of true cosmopolitanism and innovation. By contrast, the great metropolises—especially Paris and New York—have always felt deeply stimulating. And they are, in spite of oneself. They will not let you survive unless you make the effort or reach a certain level of excellence. They are not comfortable, because they demand the best of you if you wish to inhabit them; otherwise, they expel you, and all that is left is to revisit them when possible.
It is true that I never tried to live in them, among other reasons because, as a Belgian friend of mine, a mathematics professor in the French capital, once told me: “If you live here, Paris will no longer be your Paris.” A wise saying that coincides with Enric González’s words in Stories of New York: “One sees the city one carries within.”

I have read extensively about France, and especially about twentieth-century Paris, and I cannot avoid my imagination unfolding fully whenever I walk the streets of the old city—that Western mecca, probably the capital of our civilization. I perceive all that, within the limits of my knowledge, was lived, experienced, felt there… and I discover myself through those wanderings, sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied by my wife or friends. A spirit somewhere between idealist and romantic—though I am not particularly sentimental—nourishes me and gives me strength to continue my therapeutic work and to encourage others to discover themselves through experience.

How much would we improve in all respects if we expanded our psychic space, if we increased our knowledge and our level of awareness?
Life only has meaning if, in large part, it is profound and we manage to give it direction. And this is said by someone who can and does enjoy the trivial, provided that it occupies only a small portion of existence. But without focus, without in-depth work, we usually turn it into a neurotic foolishness, constantly chasing novelties and news to distract ourselves. Hence so many problems of attention deficit, anxiety, lack of life orientation, and, often, depression.

I recall that in a difficult period of my life, after the premature death of my mother, when my spirituality and religious beliefs deepened— I am a morally liberal, not very dogmatic, and barely practicing Catholic, partly because in my view today’s Masses put the faithful to sleep and would require a bit more fervour—I took to reading mystical and theological texts of substance. Among them, as I have mentioned elsewhere, Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologiae, a work of great depth and beauty.
And in those moments of pain, I admit there was a certain degree of happiness, for if you penetrate something of such magnitude and connect with it, you cannot help but feel a profound inner peace that makes you feel well.

We lose, amidst so much noise, both outward knowledge—travel, for example— and inward knowledge, the kind that comes from reading, cinema, the arts, music… And although it is true that all this requires effort, that effort is rewarded with greater calm and openness.

I should mention that during my recent visit to Paris, we went to the David Hockney exhibition, the great British painter born in 1937. Photographs of a smiling elderly man hang in some rooms, and his idolized male nudes from other periods give way—he himself selected the works—to a display of landscapes, of a calm and radiant nature, which can be interpreted as a wise approach to a meaning of life detached from desire and in harmony with the passage of time.
His vitality and his smiling, mischievous, yet conscious gaze indicate the vital progress of someone who probably began with the impulses of youth, only to end reconciled with what is essential.

Life requires effort—sometimes a great deal—and work, and going through all sorts of circumstances. But if one elevates one’s gaze, one’s heart, if one aspires to connect with knowledge, or better still, with wisdom, there is something—hidden, mysterious, secret—that helps.

“Fortes fortuna adiuvat”, “Fortune favours the brave”, or even better: “At the moment one truly commits, Providence also moves. Whatever you can do or dream, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic.” Johann W. von Goethe.

The meaning of life begins with learning to concentrate and avoiding trivial distractions.

Damián Ruiz
Barcelona, August 28, 2025
www.damianruiz.eu

La entrada Paris, Hockney and the Meaning of Life se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.

Damián Ruiz

What is the fundamental principle I apply in treating cocaine addiction?
That the patient comes to reject it — that they feel repulsion toward the substance.
How is that achieved?
Through a change in lifestyle and a process of raising consciousness so that they understand not only that they don’t need it, but that they’re missing many real opportunities to improve their life.
And how is that done?
Through analysis of the person’s history and current circumstances. By bringing to awareness the positive aspects that have not been developed and the negative ones that generate counterproductive attitudes and behaviors.
And what about willpower?
As a therapist, I don’t place much faith in it. I’m not saying it’s unnecessary — especially in the early stages — but I also don’t ask for miracles. What I seek is steady, gradual work that strengthens this virtue over time. But it’s not the core of the therapy.
What are the fundamental pillars of therapy to stop using cocaine?
A change in lifestyle and the development of a firmer, more determined, even ambitious attitude — not necessarily financially, although it could be, depending on the person, but in terms of fulfillment.
And that fulfillment is understood differently by each person: some link it to the “American way of life,” others to spirituality, depth, or even creative processes. The therapist must simply work together with the patient on where they want to go.
Is it easy to quit cocaine?
No, it’s not easy — but it’s also not “impossible.”
Progress is gradual, and occasional relapse may happen. As long as the patient doesn’t minimize its significance, such relapses can be accepted in the beginning.
But in order to consolidate the goal, one must progressively restructure — again — both lifestyle and the person’s perception, beliefs, and emotions around it.
It’s not about falling into empty positivity, the “you can do it” type, but about delving into the unconscious to activate all that could lead to a fuller life and deactivate everything that — perhaps without clearly realizing it — has been blocking it.
Quitting cocaine is a meticulous process, but it is achievable.
This treatment is for low to moderate levels of use — at most once or twice per week, and in small amounts.
It is not intended for heavy addicts — for them, clinical admission to specialized public or private centers is more appropriate.
But it is possible to completely quit using this substance — cocaine.

Damián Ruiz
www.damianruiz.eu
Barcelona, August 2025

La entrada Quitting Cocaine Use se publicó primero en Damián Ruiz.