The question Gestalt therapy refuses, and the one it keeps asking instead
Most people come to see me to find an explanation for the way they are.
It's a sensible question. Suppose you've been following a way of thinking that you dislike - always making the same argument, constantly disappearing in the same way, and every time ending up on a night which begins with a drink and leads you to a place you never intended to go - then of course you'd like to know why. Because if you do know the reason, that shows the situation has some structure, and if it does, it may be possible to get rid of it.
On the other hand, it is frequently the case that this question keeps the hour at a safe distance from the thing which is actually taking place.
Gestalt therapy has always favored this approach. Instead of constructing a story to explain why things are the way they are, we focus on what is happening now and how you are dealing with it. This is not merely a matter of preference; it is the method we adopt.
What "why" does
It is a matter of personal opinion; it makes you reflect on your childhood, your marriage, the job that taught you to be independent of other people, and the year when things became difficult and have never really improved since. Part of that memory is true; the rest is a carefully prepared account of the facts, having been told so many times that it has lost its warmth.
The problem isn't that history has no relevance; on the contrary, history comes into the room whether we bring it in or not. The real issue is how history influences the present tense.
When you ask someone why they retreat every time their partner approaches, the answer you most often get begins with the word 'because'. For instance, it might be because I realized from the start that relying on other people was dangerous. Or because the last time I tried it, things turned out badly. It could also be because I am just the sort of person who does that. Even if the statement is true, the person is still exactly who they were when they made it. They have explained themselves, but they have not come to understand themselves.
People also have a more private occupation: giving justifications. If you look to the past to find the causes of something, you will most likely end up with excuses. Fritz Perls put this idea more plainly, even if he wasn't always careful, since explaining how you got into this situation can turn into a justification that lets you stay as you are.
Another matter is less a question of morality than of practicality. It remains in the mind and therefore provides insight; this insight creates the feeling that progress has been made. Then, on Tuesday afternoon, the same tension in the jaw reappears, the same joke occurs just before the difficult action, and once again the same hand reaches out for the thing you had promised yourself you were finished reaching for. The insight had not advanced; it had never been asked to; it had only been asked to justify itself.
What "what" does
Here's another kind of question; rather than leading you nowhere, it prompts you to look at what is already there.
The response you feel in your chest when you hear her name. The way in which you used your eyes when I asked that question. The action which you are presently carrying out with your hands. The sentence you were going to say but ultimately didn't.
They aren't tricks; on the contrary, they encourage you to notice what is actually moving rather than the story you have about it; the story can remain as it is while the motion cannot - it is happening at the moment or it has already happened.
In this approach, awareness is not a preliminary exercise to be done before the main part of the work; it is, in fact, the main element of the work. Choices that initially appeared unavailable often become available when you can clearly see what you are doing, how you are doing it, and what cost you are suffering. This is a completely different aim from merely being given an account of one's childhood and a self-improvement program.
The way things are is like this: how can you get away? How can you keep the room comfortable? How can you make sure that no one can quite reach you? There's the question of process and the question of content. Gestalt therapy pays more attention to process - what is actually being done, thought of, and felt in this moment - than to the content of the discussion. You could go on talking about loneliness for forty minutes and yet still never get near to the loneliness which is sitting in the chair.
How this looks in the room
When I hear an account of a fight, the story is told smoothly until a name comes up, which causes a temporary pause, a change of subject, and a joke; in that moment, I usually slow my narration.
What just happened?
It is not an accusation but a request that the break be looked at rather than being covered up. The break is usually closer to the real difficulty than any description of the fight which could be made afterwards.
If someone says, "I have no idea why I keep on doing this," I could suggest that, for a while, we leave the "why" aside and instead look at what "this" actually is when it happens. What is the very first thing that takes place? What do you tell yourself in the two minutes just before? And what do you feel in your body immediately after having acted, before regret starts in and begins to tell the story? People are generally surprised at how much they already know once the question is no longer one that calls for a theory.
I might notice something and then mention it - when you said that you smiled, it wasn't a smile of relief. How do you see that? As the person most familiar with your own experiences, if I am in error, please let me know. Usually, the useful part starts when we admit we're wrong.
You needn't experiment, even though in some cases one might be of some use; you could state the thing that has not been said, talk to the person who is not there as though they were sitting in the other chair, and stay in that situation long enough to find out whether it is fear or anger or grief that is giving rise to the feeling of fear. All of these are invitations, not obligations, and their object is the same as that of the question 'what' - it is to allow you to feel something directly rather than discussing it from a safe distance.
The past is not forbidden
That is the usual misunderstanding, so it is worthwhile being straightforward about it.
Your history is important, not something to be ignored; a childhood is not just a rumor, and a bad marriage is not merely a metaphor. Instead of rejecting the past, Gestalt therapy sees it as the place where change can occur.
Usefulness comes from the fact that history is still being written in the present. You feel the tightness when a certain name is brought up. The way you finish a conversation a few seconds before it actually happens. The attitude you take toward yourself that isn't completely your own. These are not memories; they are current events. You can see them happening, because the only tense in which anything can be changed is the present one.
If we are to discuss the past, we must do so; in that case, we become conscious of the effect that such talk has - on your body, in the space between us, and in the next sentence you reach for. You usually ignore the second of these observations.
Meaning still matters
I do not oppose seeking to understand, since people need meaning; a life without any sense at all is itself a kind of suffering, and I am not willing that anyone should end up with only a set of sensations and no way to express them.
The distinction is between meaning which arises as a result of contact and meaning which acts as a substitute for it.
Begin by getting in touch: find out what is happening, how you are going to meet it, what you want and what you will not allow yourself to want. Only then does the meaning become more definite, since it has been secured. The other kind - being elegant simply because it occurs before anyone has even noticed - turns out to be a way to stay organized without actually being affected.
As a result, you'll end up with a greater understanding of yourself; that's the main point. The only thing is that you wouldn't have been able to put that knowledge into writing before you went into the room.
Why this is hard to want
It feels like a responsibility because it's the kind of question a serious person would ask. On the other hand, something that is smaller, closer, and less impressive may seem almost impolite. People who are good at thinking are often the most aware of such matters; it has been thinking that has kept them safe, and being asked to notice a tightness in the throat could sound like a kind of demotion.
It is not so; the reason is a change in altitude. The view from the story point is broad and familiar, while the present tense view is narrower and, generally speaking, more accurate.
This is also why you can make this statement without risk, while you cannot with other things. When you honestly say what you are doing at the exact moment when you are doing it, you are temporarily exposed. That situation is unpleasant, and it is the same kind of situation in which a choice becomes possible that previously had not been possible when the entire matter had been dealt with from upstairs.
I never want to tell you what kind of person you should be; I only ask that you come to a clear, calm realization of your own behavior, the cost involved in it, and your own desires - especially those desires that are inconvenient. Choice can only be relied upon more surely if it is based on such an understanding rather than on a theory of your origins.
A last distinction
If you look at Gestalt therapy, you'll find a lot of film footage from the late 1960s showing Fritz Perls having a session with somebody while sitting in an empty chair in front of an audience. This is quite noticeable, and in fact it is almost all that the internet remembers, even though it's not the kind of thing I'm referring to. The approach I was trained in is dialogic: it involves two people in a room who attend to one another, and their relationship is an essential part of the method rather than something that detracts from it.
The tendency to prefer 'what' to 'why' continued in that correction since it had never been a performance technique; rather, it expresses the fact that real change occurs not in the explanation but in the contact.
Awareness occurs before change, not the reverse.
If you want to take this further
You don't need to wait until you have a session to use this distinction. The next time you are asking yourself why you are the way you are, pause and rephrase the question. Instead, ask yourself what is happening now, what you have done, and what you are doing with your breath, your jaw, and the next sentence you were going to speak. Spend a bit longer than is normal. If a story occurs to you, set it aside and come back to it later. The important point is to see whether anything becomes accessible when you stop trying to explain yourself.
It isn't homework because I never assign homework; it's the very action that this post has been referring to, but carried out without anyone being present to see it.
If you want a more detailed explanation of my method - for instance, what takes place during a session, the meaning of the here-and-now, why I don't use worksheets, and where this approach comes from - please refer to the Gestalt therapy page. This article, however, deals only with the narrower argument found there. In contrast, the About page presents the personal account of the story: how I became involved with the work as a client, and what I will and will not do during sessions.
This approach suits people who want a deeper understanding of themselves and are prepared to put in the necessary effort; it is not appropriate for anyone who expects clear instructions, a diagnosis within the first ten minutes, or a roadmap outlining the kind of person they should become. If, after our talk, it doesn't seem right for your case, I will let you know and help you find another option that fits you better.
If you're in Texas, Colorado, or Missouri and want to find out whether this method is suitable for your case, the initial conversation is a free phone call - fifteen minutes long - with no obligation or requirement to complete a questionnaire. You won't need a diagnosis, and you don't need to know the actual problem before we start. In fact, that's usually the very first thing that we do together.
Sessions are available at the Fair Oaks Ranch office or via a secure video link. Intake sessions are $165, individual sessions are $145, and couples sessions are $185. Reduced rates are available for active-duty military members, veterans, and first responders. I do not take new clients who have insurance.
If you would like to start with a conversation, request a consultation through the contact page on RalphPorter.com. Feel free to ask any questions you have, and if I am incorrect, don't hesitate to let me know.
