ABSTRACT
Sometimes, sitting at the edge of a body of water, hundreds of birds will suddenly stir and soar in concert, in response to some invisible force of which they have all become aware, but which remains a mystery to observers. Innocent of what just happened, only the watcher is aware of the great organized choreographed disturbance, quelled now, seemingly forgotten by the returned ock. The birds are wired to react, but have no memory; the observer remembers the reaction, but has little insight into its origin. This, at the level of undisciplined metaphor, is how we begin to experience the wonder of the ubiquity of the object. It repeatedly scatters the patient, the therapy, into an organized disarray. This is the nature of transference, of object relations.
