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 Bethany came forward to work. She was clearly shy. I made some comments, about myself, my own slight nervousness, my interest in meeting her. She didn't say much in response. There was a slightly awkward silence between us. I let the silence be there, noticing what I was feeling, staying present with her.
I invited her to ask me questions, so it wasn't just me asking her questions. In other words, I made it clear this was a two way relationship - building ground for an I-thou connection.
She mentioned feeling insecure. I talked about my age now, and that I felt less insecure these days than when I was younger. She said her father was my age. I shared that I did feel insecure when I had first started doing therapy, and that insecurity continued for a few years. She asked me if I ever felt insecure in my current life. I replied that I did, in small ways, at times; but that I was more comfortable with that, and with not-knowing all the answers. For instance, not knowing what we were going to talk about in this session.
These self disclosures were all building ground in our relationship. I was being authentic, transparent, sharing both my strengths and vulnerabilities. I also was showing my own trajectory, from being younger, to the present.
I noted our differences culturally, and that I knew very little about her Chinese background. She shared some aspects of her cultural background.
I asked her what she noted about our differences - she said, that I was a stranger, and a man. I invited her to ask about me, to get to know me. She asked about my curly hair, and I explained my Jewish heritage.
We were slowly building ground.
She then made a general comment, asking about how unfinished business was dealt with. I said I was more interested in specifics, than addressing topics in general. This is the Gestalt awareness focusing process.
I shared about some unfinished business of mine - again, leading the way in being authentic, showing my willingness to dive into personal awareness.
This provided the ground for her to respond to my question, about some unfinished business of hers.
She talked about her parents fighting at night, in the same room, on a regular basis, from the time she was very small, until she left home. She spoke about wishing she could magically go back, and change that experience.
I could see her emotion, and acknowledged the pain she felt. She spoke of feeling very alone in that place.
I invited her to notice her experience in the present, stay with her feelings, breathe, and connect with me. We then spent some time cycling between these elements. I would acknowledge her, and her pain, talk about my sense of connection to her in that place, acknowledge the difficulty of her experience, invite her to get in touch with her body.
After this cycling, she started taking what are called 'integrative breaths'. These have a particular character, of a more settled nature. They represent the person taking something in, letting go, an embodied shift.
We finished up. There was a whole world yet to be addressed, but we had taken an important first step. We had built relationship, dived into unfinished business in a way which moved towards healing, and she had experienced for the first time, someone else with her in that place in which she had been so alone. She had gone back to that place, and found some healing.
It is the quality of relationship in the place of previous isolation that is even more important than just the intensity of the emotional experience, or the emotional release. It provides the basis for new type of experience, where pain is met in ways which were not previously possible.
 Tanya described a layer of heat in her shoulder, and neck.
I asked her what these feelings were connected to. She said that when she heard 'twisted words' she felt violent. She explained that her mother had been wild and irrational…and that when Tanya had talked to her, Tanya felt like she was getting squeezed by a snake.
Tanya mentioned that there was a woman in the group who had the opposite effect on her - talking to her felt a steady, cooling stream. Tanya felt attracted to being with this woman.
I took some time to reflect on this. The themes were clear - words had a big impact on her, and she could easily feel trapped on the other end of words which did not have responsibility embedded in them.
I thought of words on a page, a different media. I asked what kind of writing she liked reading. Tanya said she enjoyed autobiographies; ones that were written in a simple direct and local style.
I gave an example from my own experience about when I was too wordy, and a friend asked me to talk to them in 'dot points' - that is, direct and to the point.
Tanya said 'yes, thats exactly what I want'.
So I suggested that she had the right to ask for that herself from people. I explained to her how to do it in a non-shaming way. This involves making it about myself, rather than a direct or implied criticism of the other. For instance 'I am not following you right now. I need you to put it more simply and directly for me'.
Tanya remarked that she also had a problem being simple and direct when she spoke. I pointed out that she could still ask for that from others, and after a while that would orient her to thinking in that way.
I invited her to practice this in the group, so someone would start in on a long story, and she would ask them to be simple and direct. Tanya enjoyed doing this, and it built up her confidence in being able to do so.
Next, I gave her some homework - to write her mother a letter a day, talking about things important to Tanya, in a very simple and direct way. I continued using those words, which she had previously described. By using the client's language, we stay closely within their phenomenological world. I explained that it didnt really matter how her mother responsded, the focus was on expressing herself in this way.
I also mentioned the feeling of violence she had described - we would need to deal with this in another session, as it represented significant unfinished business. Its important in Gestalt processes not to attempt too much. Generally one figure gets covered per session - thats as much as someone can integrate at a time.
 Melissa talked about having 'lost her memory' of her childhood. She could only remember a few things - everything seemed to be lost in some inaccessible mist. This was annoying to her, and concerned her, and she kept asking why her childhood memories were not available to her.
I asked her to recount the memories she did have - a few incidences, where her father - and another time her mother - had taken her to hospital for something. She also remembered her father doing calligraphy.
That was it.
Melissa said her mother told her that as a baby and toddler, she was very quiet -made almost no sound, and didn't start talking until late.
This suggested that something happened very early on to her.
Melissa was very nervous. This was apparent to me. She was nervous with me, which was fair enough as she didn't really know me very well. But it seemed that she was nervous as a person. This was very evident.
I told her that I didn't want to try to get an explanation for why she had lost her memories - that there was a good reason for it, and in due course, that would become clear.
This is because people like to pursue the question of 'why' in a very linear fashion, wanting crisp answers; my interest is in following the rhythm of the organism, the natural arising of awareness, and as people are ready and the time is right, things become clear.
So I wanted to come more into the present, with the phenomena which was most obvious - her nervousness.
She seemed like an extremely frightened person. I imagined that if I blew on her, she would fall over.
However, I noticed a devilish impulse arising in my mind. I wanted to scare her. Not in a mean way, but in a kind of playful way.
In Gestalt, we generally want to step 'into' whatever experience that people are avoiding, with appropriate support and agreement.
Her fear was so all consuming, so on the tip of her tongue, that it seemed to me important to deal with it directly.
So I reported my impulse to her. I told her I wanted to scare her, in a playful way. I wanted to say 'boo'. Even as I said that word, she startled, though I did so with almost no energy at all.
So I played a little game with her of 'boo', as one would with a child. I did so incredibly gently. She still startled.
My image evolved - I talked to her about a jack-in-the-box that my grandson had. When I would open it, he would startle. But then he would want me to do it again. I would have to do so very slowly, or it was too much for him. But he loved it popping out each time, and he was startled each time, although he knew exactly what was coming.
I gave this image to capture the nature of the game with her. I would be the jack in the box. I would 'pop out' slowly enough that it wasn't too scary, but enough to startle her.
I did this several times, very slowly and gently. She was started but also laughed a little.
She reported an ache in her back.
However, the spot she showed me that was aching was in fact her adrenals. I was not surprised, and explained to her this wasn't a back ache, but the result of her over active adrenal glands. I suggested that on a physical level she get some kind of tonic that was good for the adrenals. In Gestalt we like to work holistically; and after a lifetime of being nervous her adrenals were far too active. Psychological work is good, but it also may need to be accompanied by physical treatments when something is deeply embedded.
Next I asked Melissa to scare me. Then to scare some people in the group. There was laughter. She was picking up on the game. This is because we are interested in moving to the other polarity in Gestalt - if someone projects something onto others, we invite them to swap roles, and become active rather than passive.
I then explained to her, that excitement was the same as nervousness, except the difference was the level of support. With enough support, the energy can be pleasurable. I gave the example of sex - excitement and pleasure. I wanted to help her realise that her energy could be joyful, not just fearful.
This was all a revelation to her. That her sensitivity could also mean she could experience more positive excitement, if she learned to manage it.
Managing it I explained to her, started with the breath.
I got her to stand, and showed her what was happening with her breathing. It was completely constricted. She breathed only with the upper portion of her lungs - very shallowly. So I spent some time, showing her how to breathe differently. I showed her how to draw breath into the lower section of her lungs. This was a completely new experience for her. She got dizzy -she was unused to so much oxygen in her body. I moved my hands down her legs to her feet, to help her draw her energy down and ground her. She needed a lot of support, with the breathing, with keeping her energy in her body.
This was a radically new experience for her, and I pointed out this is something she would need to practice, all day, every day, and that the result would be a reduction in her fear, and an increase in her pleasure.
 Deb talked about her sadness.
I told her I wanted to get to know a bit about her first, before going to that place. I need a sense of contact with a client, some grounding in the relationship between us. She talked about her life, her professional, her family. She said that she had a peaceful marriage. I found this phrase 'a peaceful marraige' to be interesting - its not something I hear a lot from clients. Mostly their marriages contain some conflict.
I was curious. As Deb looked at me, she said that she was afraid I would' see something' in her. As she said this, she put her hand on her tummy, and then on her womb area. She said although she was afraid, she also wanted me to see this part of her.
This gave a clear direction of how to proceed with her - she welcomed exploration, and she also needed sensitivity from me. I asked how she experienced the connection with me. She said 'peaceful'. Again, I found this a slightly strange word - reassuring, but unusual in the context of her sadness. Especially given she also reported feeling sad, and afraid.
Her emotion seemed very non-verbal, very internal, and complex. Her words were not filled out with stories and examples. The hiddenness of what was inside her gave me the idea of working somatically with her.
So I suggested she lie on the floor. Thats one way to start somatic psychotherapy work. Stop talking, and focus on the body.
For some time, I was with her, especially watching her breathe.
Deb said she couldn't feel anything in her body.
I asked her to wiggle her toes - to bring the awareness into her body.
She felt uncomfortable - she said that I was too close, so I moved back a little.
As she wiggled her toes, tears came to her eyes, and a memory of being 6.
Her parents had sent her to live with her aunt, and only saw her every few years.She said she felt terribly lonely, but it was 'peaceful' at her aunt's place.
I asked to touch her belly. I could see the interruption in her breathing there. I asked her to touch herself there in order to bring awareness to this place, and to help guide her awareness into her body through this as a starting point. She agreed.
She started to feel a little more - she said 'I feel alive for the first time'.
Another memory surfaced of being 8; she thought of 'leaving' - she felt terribly empty in her life.
She then found a sense of purpose at school - to excel. But she was still lonely.
As she spoke, I put some pressure on her belly, especially as she breathed. This was to help move the energy there, and to intensify the emotional experience, as it seemed that her 'calmness' was in fact her creative adjustment, to avoid the feelings.
Deb felt an increased sense of connection with herself and me. I asked her to put her hand on her womb area. She felt reported that she felt soft.
She said 'I feel as if I don't have a heart' - again, then effect of the long loneliness. So I (after asking) put my hand on her heart. We stayed like that for some time
Deb then reported feeling fully alive, whole, and connected. Her sense of loneliness was gone.
As I looked in her eyes, I told her 'I feel connected to you'. I asked her experience. She said that she experienced connection, for the first time, from that place of loneliness.
Working somatically is generally part of Gestalt - we are interested in peoples embodied experience, and many aspects of Gestalt process utilise body awareness, rather than just cognitive awareness.
Sometimes, it is useful to focus more on the body, when someone has less words, or when they have too many words, or when their words are very contradictory, as in this case.
Being still, and present with a person, their breathing, helps them become more present to themselves. Then, whatever the unfinished business is, will arise to the surface of their awareness. We dont have to do too much questioning, or prodding. They will themselves get in touch with what is most important. Then we can focus that awareness, bring it into relationship, and support movement in the direction the person needs to go.
 Julie said her issue was deep pain.
She felt a bit nervous with me, so I invited her to ask me a question (rather than me putting the spotlight on her).
She asked me 'how do you deal with deep pain'. I share with her some ways I recently dealt with my deep pain.
Next she shared that she had a fear of abandonment, but she learned to take care of herself in that place, and not depend on anyone else.
I asked her experiences of being abandoned. She said she didn't have anything directly like that, but that her father had worked in another city, and was only able to come home for 1 month a year. So she missed him very much during her childhood.
In middle school she went with her brother to live with him. But her experience of going to school was that of being the outsider, coming to the city from the country, from the south to the north. She felt excluded.
I pointed out that the feeling she described is akin to a kind of abandonment, being left alone.
During this middle school time, she was staying with her father, but he had to work very hard, take care of her and her brother, and didn't have a lot of time or energy leftover for them. She felt lonely there, and wanted more affection from him. She learned to rely on herself.
I acknowledged her feelings, and shared my own experiences of being an outsider. Her eyes filled with tears. She talked about a feeling in her belly which held her back.
So I suggested an experiment - we would sit back to back, and she would lean against me.
She sobbed during this; she was able to lean against me, and finally she settle somewhat.
Then she asked to be held like a baby.
So I agreed for her to put her head in my lap, and I held her. She sobbed again. During the time she asked asked me, as her 'father', if I loved her. I spoke for her father - 'yes'. She asked me if I mattered to her. She asked me several things, wanting to confirm this. I explained 'as her father', that I had to go away to work, but missed her, and thought about her. I guessed that this was likely close to the truth.
The experience was extremely powerful for her. I told her to just let herself rest. She could take in the nourishment she had craved for so long.
In this place, where the experiment has such a powerful context, the experience is very real, and thus significantly healing. The result is a deeply embodied experience of the yearned-for connection, reassurance, and soothing of a pain she carried her whole life.
Sometimes, as therapist, we can give voice to others in a person's life, who they could never really know. Some may question speaking 'for' the father's reality; and its true, its an educated guess. However, being a father myself, I could place myself in the father's shoes, and perhaps understand something about him. In this way, including myself in the therapy, I can contribute. Whats important is that I am not doing this for my own benefit, out of my own unfinished business, but that this is focused on the clients need.
The same thing with agreeing to hold her. I am not in the business of evaluating the 'correctness' of the client's wishes. It seems within the bounds of therapy, appropriate to the case and the situation. If I can be part of a healing process, that is consistent with the client's ground, that feels right to me. I do not see the value of questioning the client's need - I find it better to take it at face value, experiment, and see what happens. If it fits, then good. If not, then we can explore what that is about. Part of the ethos here involves respecting the client as the best expert on themselves, an inherent part of the phenomenological stance.
Linda raised her issues with her mother, who had come to stay with her recently. She said she didn't like being around her mother, who she found 'sticky'. Her mother would ask her for advice, then reject everything she said, and then later ask for advice again. Her mother would take a kind of child role and tone of voice with Linda, who couldn't stand this. I sat for a while with this. It seemed a clear situation, and a difficult one. There were 'answers' - this was a case of a double bind, and there are various ways to deal with this in therapy. Its also clearly a case where the parent-child roles were being reversed, and the child needs to 'give back' the burdens the parent is putting on them. But I didn't simply want to follow a theory here, give a glib answer, or provide a clever intervention. I felt my own sense of 'stickiness' in the situation, and did not want to simply pull myself out of it with my knowledge, or my enthusiasm for helping Linda. So I sat, for some time, letting the 'creative void' be there, waiting to see what emerged. After several minutes I remembered the 'Gestalt prayer' which Fritz Perls had been so fond of, even to the point he would get people to repeat it before a group session. This goes: You are you, and I am I I am not in the world to live up to your expectations and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you, and I am I If by chance we find each other, its beautiful. If not, it can't be helped. This is very much a statement of differentiation. It has fallen somewhat into disrepute in the Gestalt world now, as it is seen as too extreme an emphasis on the individual, without enough acknowledgement of interconnectedness. So I was a little reluctant to mention it. However, what is important is the needs of the client, not the controversy of the Gestalt world. And in this circumstance, it seemed relevant. So I introduced it to Linda. As I spoke it, I asked what she felt. She said she felt stronger. So I invited her to say it, repeating it after me. She reported feeling more settled. So I asked her to say it again. She said that she felt good, but something was stuck in her throat - a hardness. We explored this - it was related to a cultural introject to 'always be soft' in the way one expresses things. The Gestalt mode of dealing with such 'shoulds' is the exercise I then gave to her: to make two sentences: 'I want to be soft' 'I don't want to be soft' This brings in the element of choice. She said she didn't want to have to always be soft. So then we went back to the 'prayer', and I invited her to say it in a 'harder' way, imagining she was saying it to her mother. She was able to do so, and felt stronger. Linda wanted more. I felt to stop there. She wanted me to go through, explain to her what this meant, and how she could apply it. I declined. Sometimes such support is relevant. But in this case, I simply said to her - the core issue is differentiation, and this gives you a sense of the spirit of it. But I am not going to spell it out further for you. I could feel myself otherwise moving into the 'sticky' position, giving her move 'advice' as she found herself doing with her mother. Linda was not really satisfied, but I drew my limit. This was important, as my own act of differentiation in the connection. Differentiation is not something that can be put into a formula; its a shift in a way of being, a movement into a sense of oneself, without needing to be defined by others, yet not moving to isolation, but staying in contact. Its an essential ingredient in maturing, and in family relationships of all types. It can't really be 'taught', but only pointed to, and practiced. In this case, my own practice - in a non reactive way - could provide an example for her, and a felt experience, that would help her further in differentiating from her mother. In that sense, its important not to be 'too' helpful to the client. We are here to assist them, but if we lean forwards too far in being helpful, thats not ultimately in their best interests.
 Dana had got very triggered by something that occurred in the group, had gone into her shame, and then said she felt like vomiting. So I encouraged her, and she vomited a little.
This is a positive step, to let out what has been swallowed. In Gestalt we are interested in what people 'introject', or swallow, in terms of beliefs and values from others. It is necessary to help them 'chew' these over, to be able to digest them, and find whats relevant for them. That leads to authenticity.
I asked her about her mother, and food. This is because when something has been swallowed, that is unhealthy, its also good to trace just how the person is in relation to food; and the source of this relationship is generally how their mother was with them around their needs (oral issues).
Dana said her mother was not in touch with her own needs, and that Dana also found it difficult being in touch with her needs.
She reported that she liked to eat rich food, but could only really stomach light food most of the time.
This indicated something about her need for nourishment, and her capacity to take it in. It provided an important pointer for the therapy process - and I needed to be careful about how much I 'fed her', even though her needs may be significant.
She talked about her orientation to other people's needs, and how her mother was also like this.
In such circumstances, there is an imbalance, and the 'sensitivity' to others needs is 'as if', because if we are not equally tuned into our own needs, we cannot really be there for others. In fact, what we do for others is an overcompensation, and in that sense, not really as generous as it seems.
This was a very big topic, requiring a lot of ongoing therapy.
To make a start, I asked her, 'so what do you need from me, right now?'
I knew this would be a difficult question for her, but I wanted to raise it to see what would come up. Its important to take large topics, and bring them into the 'here and now, I and thou', to make them workable, and to give me a direct experience of the issue we are talking about.
She reported being confused - I expected this.
I was patient though... directed her to her feelings, and waited.
In this type of situation, such a person needs a lot of support to recognise and ask for what they need.
She finally said she wanted my attention. That was good.
She said she wanted my steady attention, but that she would be allowed to come and go unrestricted. That was a very good step, and provided me with much important information, as this represents a fundamental need that children have - for the secure presence of the caregiver... with permission to come close to get reassurance, and then go off exploring, and then come back when they need.
Dana said she wanted to crawl. I asked if she would like me to do that with her. She did. This is because she was at a very young stage, and often young children want an adult there with them, joining and reflecting them, and playing with them.
So we crawled around for a while.
She was very happy. I pointed out that this was a fundamental need - for mirroring - to be recognised in one's feelings, and needs, and to be met in that place.
Then she asked me about my need. I was cautious, as in a way, this represented her pattern. But I wanted to go with it, as an experiment, and find a way to do something different with her around other's needs.
So I told her that I had a need for touch, physical affection.
She said that she didn't have that need so much.
This was excellent - I immediately said, 'yes, my need is different to yours, and thats ok'. This was excellent because it provided a chance to highlight differentiation - the capacity to be oneself, and yet stay connected in relationship.
I suggested that this kind of differentiation was also a fundamental need.
Mirroring requires me as caregiver to put my needs aside to be with the other.
Differentiation involves me recognising differences, and making that ok.
This set the tone for ongoing therapy, and provided a framework for her development in coming to terms with the topic of needs.
Finally, I said, 'I know you would like to keep going Dana, and I am going to stop now'
People in this situation often don't know when they are 'full', and require a clear, firm and non-reactive boundary to be set. This helps flag to them that some needs have been met, and they need to sit and digest, rather than keep going for more. This is also a kind of mirroring - acknowledging their fullness, so they can recognise it themselves.
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