Body Psychotherapy
at Chiron from a Psycho-analytic Perspective
I have been practising psycho-analytic
psychotherapy in the NHS for a number of years, having previously worked
with physically ill patients, and I have always been interested in the
various links between body and mind.
I was therefore attracted to a conference on attachment theory
and the body in March 2003. Although
the speakers came from psycho-analytic or neuroscience backgrounds, a
number of body psychotherapists were also present, and towards the end,
one of them suggested that the psycho-analytic therapists were trying
to re-invent the wheel, rather than looking at what they could learn from
body psychotherapists. This made me realise how clueless I was
about what body psychotherapists actually did. It seemed to me that the only way I would really understand
what body therapy was about would be by having some, and, as it was some
time since I had ended a long, intensive psycho-analytic psychotherapy,
it seemed like an ideal time for me to do that.
I subsequently met one of the Chiron Directors for an initial consultation
and was referred to a local therapist. By the time I had seen her for 6 months, I was sufficiently
excited and curious about her way of working to enrol on the Certificate
Training at Chiron, and am now halfway through my third year. I feel that I could easily fill a book
with my experiences during the last three years, and so I am going to
focus on what I consider to be some of the major splits and differences
(or at least perceived differences) between psycho-analytic and body psychotherapy.
An obvious difference between body psychotherapists
and psycho-analytic psychotherapists is in their attitudes towards touch.
I think that many psycho-analytic psychotherapists fear that touching
clients will fuel erotic transferences that are likely to get out of hand,
and so even discussing the possibility of touch has become taboo in the
psycho-analytic world. One problem with this is that if therapists
feel unable to discuss their use of touch in therapy, there is a greater
chance they will use touch in an ill considered fashion, and that things
may get out of hand. Body
therapists, on the other hand, recognise that touch can be a powerful
tool in therapy, and that therapists need to be trained to use it appropriately. At Chiron, we do not start seeing clients,
until we have completed at least three years of training, whilst, in my
psycho-analytic training, most
trainees were allocated clients after only a year. During my body therapy training, I have learnt about different
ways of using touch, and have discovered that, although touch may evoke
sexual feelings, it may also
be experienced in many other ways.
I have also been impressed with how comfortable the facilitators
and my own therapist have been in working with sexual feelings, when they
do arise in therapy. Sexual
feelings are welcomed and explored in a similar way to any other feelings,
whilst it is made clear that the therapist will not engage in sexual intercourse
or use the client for his or her own sexual gratification.
The most significant split that I have
observed is actually a split between psycho-analytic psychotherapists
and humanistic psychotherapists in general, around whether a client’s
needs should be gratified. Most
psycho-analytic psychotherapists believe that it is not possible to make
up for what a client has been deprived of in the past, and so it is not
helpful to attempt to do this. Instead,
the therapist should help the client to get in touch with and think about
the resulting frustration and anger.
They often see humanistic psychotherapy as attempting to gratify
a client’s needs in a way that deprives the client of the opportunity
to experience and express anger towards the therapist, particularly if
it involves any form of touch. It seems to me that the reality is much
more complicated; psycho-analytic psychotherapists may refrain from touching
clients and frame their verbal responses to clients with a view to avoiding
gratification, but what about other forms of non-verbal
communication? Even if a
psycho-analyst sits behind a client, such that they cannot be seen, the
client may still be gratified by the tone of the analyst’s voice. Is that so different from the gratification
that a body therapist may sometimes provide through touch?
No doubt there are a few humanistic
psycho-therapists who use touch indiscriminately, and I have come across
some psycho-analytic therapists who attempt to maintain a neutral tone
of voice, and end up speaking in a boring monotone the whole time, including
when they are speaking at conferences.
However, my experience has been that a more important difference
between the two schools is that
body psychotherapists are trained to be finely attuned to all forms
of non-verbal communication, including touch, and to consider when it
is helpful to gratify and when it is not; on the other hand, psycho-analytic
training advocates completely avoiding touch, whilst mostly turning a
blind eye to other forms of non-verbal gratification.
Whilst many psycho-analytic therapists use non-verbal communication
extremely sensitively and are no doubt aware of the gratification that
they are providing, this is rarely acknowledged by psycho-analytic writers
and it is hardly mentioned during psycho-analytic training, once basic
counselling skills have been acquired.
This brings me on to what I think is
the most important difference between body psychotherapy and psycho-analytic
psychotherapy, which is the form that the training takes. My psycho-analytic training attempted
to integrate theory and supervised work with clients, whilst requiring
that I was in personal psychotherapy throughout.
If my countertransference response to clients seemed to partly
reflect my own unresolved issues, I was encouraged by my superviser to
take these back to my own therapy.
We did have to attend small “experiential groups” during
the first year of the four-year training, but we were not generally encouraged
to apply theory to ourselves during seminars.
When one of us did, it was tolerated, but there was often an unspoken
message that what we had done was rather inappropriate and embarrassing
for the facilitator.
In contrast, it is recognised at Chiron
that no amount of therapy will prevent our own wounds from entering our
relationships with our clients, and so right from the start of the training,
we are invited to bring ourselves as whole human beings and to reflect
on our own processes. When
we begin to learn therapy techniques, we practise on each other, and subsequently
reflect in the seminar groups on our experiences both as clients and as
therapists. It is made clear that we have to take
some responsibility for ourselves as clients, for example, in how much
we disclose or how vulnerable we allow ourselves to be, and that we are
expected to take issues that arise back to our own therapy, if we need
to do more work on them. However,
it is accepted that we may become very emotional or regress, whilst we
are clients, and the trainers and assistants, who observe us working,
are all well able to provide the necessary containment on the few occasions
that fellow trainees are not. In
conjunction with my personal psychotherapy, my experience of being a client
for fellow trainees to practice on or for demonstrations by trainers has
been invaluable in my personal development during the training.
Although I have only been in twice weekly therapy, I seem to have
changed much more in the last two and a half years than I did in the last
six years of my four-times-a-week psycho-analytic psychotherapy.
When I practise as a therapist with
a fellow trainee, I can be helped to look at so much more than the verbal
content of my exchanges with my client.
The observing trainer, assistant or fellow trainee can draw my
attention to my posture, gestures, tone of voice and other non-verbal
communication, based on both what they observe and also on their own internal
experience. It is essentially live supervision, but
also supervision by somebody who has themself received live supervision
during training and so is accustomed to tuning into non-verbal communication. According to neuro-scientists, more than
90% of communication is non-verbal,
which perhaps explains why the training has been so helpful in my work as a psycho-analytic
psychotherapist. I do not
use touch in working with my NHS patients, but I have become much more
aware of what they are doing with their bodies and of what is going on
in my own body. This has enabled me to draw patients’
attention to aspects of their own bodies, for example, particular postures,
gestures or repeated movements that seems significant.
More importantly, it has helped me to recognise what might be going
on for patients, when they are unable to express this verbally, as well
giving me more information about what is going on between us at a non-verbal
level.
The training at Chiron has been truly
integrative in that, over the last twenty years or so, it has incorporated
theory from many different schools, including psycho-analytic concepts
such as transference and countertransference.
I wish that psycho-analytic training institutions could be as open
to new ideas, and that there could be much more dialogue between psycho-analytic
and body psychotherapists. I
have given examples of what psycho-analytic therapists can learn from
body psychotherapy, but I also believe that psycho-analytic psychotherapists
could help body therapists to become more aware of different forms of
countertransference in practice.
I am still undecided as to whether I eventually want to practise
as a body psychotherapist, but the training so far, in conjunction with
my own therapy, has had positive effects on my work as a psycho-analytic
therapist in the NHS, and has been transformative from a personal point
of view.
Third Year Trainee on Chiron Certificate
Course
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