This chapter
will examine four ways to follow the flow of sessions. Each schema will
be useful at times.
1.
The Seasons of Psychotherapy
Each session
has its seasons. In an earlier chapter, the Three Step Dance provided
a method for following the flow of the session and reacting according
to the state of resistance. Using the seasons as a metaphor will help
to identify different "seasons" and the changing role of the
therapist. In the springtime, when knowledge was flowing easily, it
was time to stay quiet. When fall came and the flow was bogged down,
it was time for intervention, and when the patient entered a wintery
freeze, it was time to be conciliatory.This works for cycles within
the session, but also describes phases covering weeks, months or even
years.
Spring
When the patient
is bringing new data and what you hear has the delicate quality of fresh,
crystal clear material, it is important to think to yourself, "Oh,
this is Spring, and it is time for a very light touch." The patient
is feeling safe, and as a result is taking extraordinary risks. Paradoxically
you may experience impulses to say or do something that will stop the
flow. Now is the time to listen intently with a very open mind. Spontaneous
thoughts that come to you will provide an interesting stream of associations,
but this is a time to observe, and probably not the time to be too intellectual
or to draw conclusions.
Summer
After a while,
the flow may slow and move into a more thoughtful mode where understanding
is consolidated. The material is not so fresh. Patterns are being identified.
The patient notices that his or her current reaction is similar to one
you had already noticed. It is time to put things together, to draw
conclusions. You can both be active in organizing, comparing and making
sense of what you have learned. Traditionally this might be called a
"working through" phase. The work is positive and productive,
but no longer bears the delicate, fresh quality of new material.
Fall
This is when
you notice a slowing in your progress. Your understanding is no longer
expanding, nor do you feel so clearly what the patient is experiencing.
In short, you have begun to encounter resistance. At first, you take
note of what you experience and ask yourself what is interfering with
the flow and why that might be. Perhaps the patient has become abstract,
so you no longer can catch the feelings. Perhaps the material is repetitive
and does not give you anything new. Or it may be that the patient seems
to be focused on something irrelevant. Before you conclude that the
latter represents resistance, open your mind to the possibility that
what seems irrelevant really isn't. Is the material fresh but different
than what you expected? When you are clear that the process is bogged
down, then it is fall.
Again, it is
time for a gentle "nudge" to see if that gets the patient
back on track. If not, it is time to share your observation that something
is impeding the flow. Now your metacommunication will have started you
both on the exploration of resistance. The subject is new, and you may
move right back into springtime, but you may also experience a prolonged
struggle to resolve a more entrenched resistance.
Winter
I often think
of a patient who for at least a year felt that I was a very poor therapist.
She thought that my responses were drab and textbook-like, that I wasn't
up to the job and didn't really care anyway. Being fairly sensitive
to the way I am perceived, I was not at my best. We struggled along.
I used metacommunication. I tried to put into words the way she felt
about me. She would usually deny her critical thoughts, but her manner
expressed her attitude very clearly. Little progress seemed to be made,
but she continued to come to sessions.
It was a classic
negative transference, I became the recipient of her rage at her mother.
She had never been able to express this rage, because her mother was
too fragile to handle it. She saw me as too weak as well, and held back
her feelings on the assumption that I wouldn't be strong enough. Her
rage gradually leaked out anyway. Two things made this long winter successful.
First, I regularly interpreted her feelings towards me, making for tiny
increments of cathartic healing of the rage. Second, my persistence
showed a kind of strength that ultimately made it clear that her rage
was not actually destroying me.
One day, Spring
came. Without much discussion, she decided I was not so bad and accepted
me as I was. She began to listen to what I had to say, and to be more
open, herself. A few months later, she was ready to leave therapy and
has continued to do well since.
2.
The Participant Observer Dance
Patients are
always tugging at their therapist. Without realizing it, they have their
own understanding of how you can help, and it is usually as a human
being, not a therapist. When the patient's agenda clashes with the agenda
of the therapy, we have a different kind of resistance. It is one that
doesn't always have the autumnal feel described above. Freud first noticed
that patients seemed to prefer acting out their neuroses, rather than
remembering or understanding them. Similarly, the there may have a transference
plan in which the patient has a secret alternative for feeling better,
where the therapist is the designated agent of change. With no conscious
idea of the unconscious roots of his or her plan, the patient sets out
to recruit the therapist. Often this involves influencing the therapist
to be different. In the example above, my patient wanted me to be stronger
than she thought I was.
Freud called
this new form of resistance, "transference resistance." He
found that resolving it was fully as helpful to the patient as any other
kind of healing. In fact, the essence of psychoanalysis came to be identified
with the development and resolution of transference resistances.
Harry Stack
Sullivan gave one of the best conceptualizations of how this actually
feels and plays out. He described the therapist as a Participant-Observer.
The patient tugs on you to participate in his or her hidden agenda.
At first, you only have a vague sense that the patient wants you to
behave somehow differently. Perhaps the patient comes up with a personal
question or request that seems minor and insignificant. Neither of you
is aware that this is the first step in carrying out a plan. Whether
you do what the patient wants or resist, you have become a participant
in the patient's struggle. You are forced to be an ally or an antagonist.
As long as
the action remains underground, unspoken, not recognized, then you are
a participant. Once you are involved, the intensity of the struggle
will increase until it becomes apparent to one or both of you. When
you realize that you have been drawn into a transference resistance,
you have the special prerogative of returning to the observer position.
All you have to do is employ metacommunication, otherwise known as interpretation.
This is exactly the same metacommunication that worked for other kinds
of resistance! When you begin to speak about the tension between yourself
and the patient, you are no longer a participant. You have returned
to your role as an observer.

During the
therapy, you will go through cycles of being drawn into the participant
position untill you realize what is happening and return to the observer
role. With each cycle, you will both learn a little more.
It has been
noted that therapists who try too hard to remain "neutral"
and disengage from the therapy will prevent the transference from developing.
The recommendation is to loosen up a little and allow yourself to be
somewhat engaged. A more accurate way of looking at it is that aloofness
is another form of being a participant. You are saying that whatever
the patient wants from you, you will refuse to give. In the face of
this active antagonism the patient will either quit treatment or take
his or her plans deep underground where neither of you will see them.
On the other hand, your active engagement as an advocate and helper
in the treatment process does energize both the conscious work and unconscious
agendas. More on the therapist's stance later.
3.
Periods of Discovery and Periods of Behavior Change
At the beginning
of treatment the emphasis may be more on gaining understanding of the
entrenched dysfunctional patterns that afflict the patient. As you gain
some understanding and have a strong working hypothesis, you may find
a prolonged phase in which the action takes place mostly outside the
sessions as the patient works on incorporating new behaviors.
One of the
clearest examples is in work with trauma survivors and those who have
had severely disadvantaged early lives. Learning to treat themselves
as valuable is a long, hard job. The action consists of adopting more
positive behaviors, resisting the tug of internalized negative attitudes,
and in doing so, laying down new, more positive attitudes. At each stage
of this process, feelings are generated that are subject to cathartic
healing as the patient shares his or her struggle.
Working with
patients during phases of behavior change feels more like coaching than
traditional therapy. Without the motivation, education, and encouragement,
progress would be slower, or the patient might lose heart. Persistence
is key. The frequency and even duration of sessions may be reduced during
this phase, but being too eager to do so may result in backsliding.
Assuming you
are successful, then as the patient is more successful in life and the
stress level is down, if you are alert to it, you will begin to see
five-year-old agendas appearing. As survival is more sure, the patient
will begin to seek to fulfill desires that have been held in secrecy.
Even at the end of what seems to be a successful therapy, there may
be a new phase of discovery and resolution of early wishes and plans.
4.
The "Grow Graph," Predicting Problems During Rapid Change
This paradigm
pertains most to periods of behavior change. The model is often accurate
in predicting reactions to stress that happen when things are going
well and patient and therapist least expect trouble. It was originally
developed to describe early recovery from addictions, but is true about
change processes in general. The grey curve describes current functioning.
Starting at the "comfort zone" at the bottom of the curve,
the patient's stress is at a minimum. Changes in behavior towards more
healthy behavior or regression to less healthy behavior are equally
likely to lead to increased stress. Pushing too hard into healthy behavior
will cause the recovering addict to relapse. Encouraging frequent forays
into the "grow zone" where moderately healthier behaviors
are practiced, results in lasting change through internalization of
new values and attitudes.
When patients
retrogress in functioning, they experience stress. They typically become
angry, irritable, and agitated. It is very helpful to be able to identify
this phenomenon and its cause. This is the typical picture of the "dry
drunk." Below is a discussion of how successful treatment results
in movement of the curve to the position shown in red.
The effect
of long term growth is that the curve shifts down and to the right.
This means that the patient's "comfort zone" is even more
comfortable than before, and is associated with a higher level of healthy
functioning. The same challenges remain but at a different level. What
underlies the graph is the fact that our sameness is held in place by
internalizations, and these always require hard work to modify.
Backlash:
An important use of the Grow Graph is to educate patients to
the dangers that accompany positive change. These reactions can be manifested
in many different ways. They may be in the form of anxiety or depression
but, in our action oriented culture, they often show up in the form
of impulses to do something destructive and "good ideas" that
turn out to be self-defeating.
Control:
Additionally, the Grow Graph helps patients to understand that
they can control the degree of stress they experience in therapy. Slowing
the adoption of new, healthy behaviors is useful when stress is too
intense. I have sometimes used "miles per hour" as a measure
of the rate of change. The feeling of going 90 miles per hour is a good
metaphor for how therapy feels when it is going dangerously fast.
Rest
and Regroup: Finally, the Grow Graph is a way to illustrate
the fact that continuous change is not possible or desirable. Humans
function best when periods of growth are interspersed with time to rest
and regroup in the comfort zone. Different people self-sooth differently,
and may find comfort in different circumstances. With the active therapist
encouraging risk taking, growth and change, it is very reassuring for
that same task master to acknowledge the patient's need to rest.
Conclusion
By recognizing
and following the ever changing seasons and phases in the therapy, you
will be alerted to your appropriate role at any given moment. You will
develop a repertoire of responses and habits so that eventually your
awareness of the season will fade into the background. It is always
important to recognize what season you are in, and whether you are acting
as a participant or an observer.