ABSTRACT
A psychoanalyst might say that this, in itself, is the history of a man frenetically looking for something, but he doesn’t know what it is. Yet it never at all felt like that. In the language we use these days I just didn’t want to be ‘in a box’. It was just the way I was: itinerant, peripatetic, a man who wanted to live the life of the mind to the full while secretly harbouring the wish, one day, to be a professional psychologist.
