We had been told to move out of our homes, and give up all the
pleasurable activities that normally keep us away from painful feelings.
Walks with the dog, music, reading, unusually rich food, sex; all of it had
to go.
At the end of our second week, we were invited to start attending primal (
feeling oriented, regressive ) groups in the evenings. From seven o'clock
until ten, twenty or more of us would gather in the basement of a concrete
office building, in a very large darkened soundproof room, where we would
lie on mats and be attended by five therapists who would move from person
to person as needed.
Our instructions were always the same, namely, to stay in what we were
feeling, instead of talking about it, and to externalize the pain with the
words and sounds that came up from it.
From ten o'clock to eleven, we gathered in a circle, to share what we were
doing with one another. Interaction between members was not encouraged. If
we had a response, we were to lie down and feel what had triggered it. That
we could share. Groups were available, five evenings a week, and extra
help, anytme we needed it.
At the end of the three weeks, we moved back to our homes, and attended as
many evening groups as we wanted. Again, extra help was always available.
Most people attended one or two groups per week for several years. Many
have continued primaling across their lifetime, using the buddy system or
working alone. They did this as a way of honouring their inner processes,
not because the therapy crippled them in some way. Getting straight and
honest, and trying not to dump our unworked through material on others
was the only way we could now proceed through life. Some people took months
or years off work; others never missed a day.
The psychiatrist who took us through all this was a friend of mine from
medical school. She had just returned from a year's work, as a client, with
Arthur Janov in Los Angeles. She ran a very classical primal practice.
There were no "frills" or extras; just lying down and feeling our feelings
until deeper material broke through to yield insight and healthy function.
I did not find all this easygoing. It took me six months to utter a
single non verbal cry. My therapist, that night, pounced on it and said,
"That is your sound,Paul, don't lose it." My pain drove me downstairs into
my own primal room very early in the morning across many years, after the
four I spent in Mary Lou's practice. I worked alone or with occasional
help, and I still have to access painful material once or twice a month.
All I can say is, I thank God for the skills I have acquired. They are very
carefully outlined in my book, Help Me - I'm Tired of Feeling Bad.
* * * *
Four main issues come up in my mind when I ponder on any deep feeling
oriented intensive work.
1. Therapist commitment to client.
2. Therapist commitment to self.
3. Informed consent and mutual responsibility.
4. How I resolved all this for my practice.
1. Therapist Commitment To Client:
What I had seen in my Intensive and afterward, was that to run a deep
feeling oriented practice, especially where intensives were concerned,
the level of commitment to clients must be very high indeed. It took one
psychiatrist and five therapists to provide round the clock coverage, for
between twenty and forty deeply working patients. This level of help
seemed to be a necessity.
I also could not escape the notion that the time line of commitment
should be very long. I felt from that early vantage point , that it
should a commitment for life. Later, I came to see that this must only be
so, if the work was productive; not if the client was caught in some
defensive co-dependency.
Slowly, as my time in this kind of therapy, as a client, lengthened, I
came to see that I could tolerate doing no other kind of work with my own
people. I lost my belief in all other therapies, as the power,
directness, and wonder of this regressive work was born in upon me.
I had a very serious problem, however. I worked alone, and I always had.
Over the previous fifteen or so years, I had found that I simply didn't
agree with, or trust other people's interventions. This feeling was very intense
in my hospital training, and continued into private practice. What I was
suffering from, I think, was a premonition that there were better and
deeper ways to respond to people than I was seeing. I was suffering also from
the feeling that therapists were responding, all the time, at a tangent to the
real issues. Although I felt aligned with what my patients were saying,
and was, I think, reasonably good at making reflective responses, it would be
a long while before I fully realized how much depth was missing. What I was
sure of, however, was that I wanted to explore and work alone.
How on earth could I provide real therapy, as a solo practitioner,
remain true to myself, and true to the essence of this newer and so much
deeper type of healing ?
2. Therapist Commitment to Self:
It is a very basic truth in psychotherapy, that a therapist must not move,
for an extended period of time, beyond what he or she can comfortably and
healthily provide. If they do, either they and/or the therapeutic process
will break down.
Therapists who routinely overwork, in terms of time, and intensity are, in
my opinion, using their work as a defense. Neither I nor any other client
have been placed on this earth to enable this kind of behaviour. I don't
trust it, or them.
I say this because in what follows, I am going to chart a path that many
may disagree with. And I want the two paragraphs above to stand out very
clearly. There is, however, one more thing that we must talk about, before
we chart this path.
3. Informed Consent and Responsibility:
A man is standing in front of me shaking with anger, and that anger is
directed at me.
He has just returned from a holiday in Europe where, he tells me, he had a
complete emotional breakdown.
One night, on his trip, far away from home, he was suddenly and with no
warning, flooded with feelings of fear and depression. So overwhelming were
these feelings that he went immediately, by taxi, to the nearest hospital,
was placed on medication, and returned to Canada on the next flight he
could get.
He said something to me in that moment, which was to become one of the
most significant phrases I would ever hear.
He said, "What have you done to me?"
This client had been lying in my primal room for a year and a half, unable
to feel. I had, over this time been gently but insistently urging him to
find whatever feelings he could. He had had no success. Then he went on a
vacation, and feelings came to him.
There will always be people with a broad intellectual understanding of
deep feeling oriented therapy, who will enter intensive experiences, only to
find that they didn't truly comprehend what they were getting into.
Some will move forward and be profoundly healed. Some will run away. Some
will run away and blame the therapist or the therapy. They will say, "What
have you done to me?"
* * * *
4. How I Resolved All This For My Practice
In childhood, we are "Done To." External forces hurt or help us. External
forces move our world and our lives.
When we grow up ( if we ever do ), we replace this infantile approach with
something completely different. We come to see that complex forces within
us, far below what we can see, are arranging our passage through life, and
indeed much of what happens to us from the so called outside world.
We end up asking the question, "What has my unconscious arranged for me
this time?"
Unfortunately, those of us who seek treatment are never fully mature. We
suffer from what might be called, "Multiple Yes and No." Layer after layer
of us downward into the depths of our being, says, "Yes, I want therapy,"
Layer after layer of us downward, into the depths of our being says, "No, I
do not want therapy." And floating around between the layers is an agonized
child crying, "Make me better!"
High speed, high impact therapy, such as a deep feeling oriented intensive,
stands a greater chance of getting someone deeply into their pain than a
less intensive experience. Where the patient is genuinely ready to break
apart, and the decision is as mature as it can be all things considered, a
primal intensive is probably the most profound and healing journey
available on this earth. There just isn't anything even approaching its
healing power.
No one before experiencing it, can ever really know what it will be like.
Everyone involved moves on an act of faith. Everyone takes a risk.
Is there any way around this problem of uninformed risk? Is there any way
that a solo practitioner can hope to handle all the issues we are raising? Some time around 1980, I decided to try.
The truth of the matter is, I began lying people down in my own primal
room and started asking them to stay with their feelings because I had no
choice. I realized from my own work, that anything less was a lie. Just as
we can't go backwards in our own growth, we can't go backwards in what we
offer others. To do so is a betrayal, so huge, that the entire self becomes
crippled by it.
This was the only therapy, that I knew of, which gave permission for
growth, on a level so deep, that it touched, shifted, and healed the very
foundations of the body and mind. Everything else, paled in comparison. I
knew that, at last, I had come home.
I also knew that I could not offer it in the same way that it had been
offered to me. I could not possibly provide unlimited emergency coverage
to the thirty or so people in my practice at any given time. Even the six
therapists at work in Mary Lou's practice seemed at the five-year point to
be burning out and withdrawing from therapy altogether. And I had twenty years
to go.
I remember how fearful I felt when I decided to cut across the two great
authority systems in my professional life; the first being, all the
classical psychotherapy teaching I had received in the hospitals where I
was trained. This included five thousand hours of supervision with more
than ten different teaching psychiatrists, ranging from the eclectic
general psychiatrists who ran the hospital wards, where I did my four years
of residency training, to the most senior teaching psychoanalysts in
Toronto at that time. Not to mention seven years of private practice with
extra work in encounter groups and Gestalt Training, plus teaching posts in
two major Universities as a visiting consultant.
The second major authority that I decided to cut across, was the very
classical primal system I had just been through.
So there I was, very, very afraid, but determined to have a therapy practice that
was within my health limits and didn't withhold the feeling orientation
that I now felt was so vital to healing.
Therefore, what I offered was this: I would see anyone routinely once, twice, or
three times a week for therapy sessions given in a primal room, in sessions which
lasted an hour to an hour and a half. I told everyone that I was
permanently on call, but I asked them to try and restrict their work with
me to their week-day hours.
I would, of course, always be available in an
emergency and could always arrange more regular hours, if needed. I told my clients
that I felt once or twice weekly regular sessions were enough to get
the job done.
I have always felt that more that two good sessions per week
constitute emotional overload, except during occasional periods of unusual
breakthrough. I believe that it takes days for a really good session to
be integrated.
So I did not offer intensives as such. There was no way I could put thirty
people on hold for weeks at a time. Extra and long sessions could be scheduled, if absolutely needed, on weekends. But this was rarely necessary. My clients did
not flood me out with calls at night and on Saturdays and Sundays. In fact,
emergency calls were relatively rare. Connecting with me directly over the
phone was usually reassurance enough.
It was my goal that every session have a reasonable level of completion.
In my own mind I started calling these completions, "Sequences." What this
means is carefully outlined in my book, Help Me - I'm Tired of Feeling
Bad. See Chapter Eighteen, Possible Results of Merging.
While it is very important not to force closure into mental processes, it
is possible to go for mini-closures that bring relief and yet leave the
mind ready for the next step. How all this is accomplished, is, as I have
said, very, very carefully explained in the book.
Offering this kind of service produced a practice where my clients were
working at every level of intensity, from simple hesitant conversation, to
gut wrenching early work.
The biggest question that I faced in all of this, was whether or not I was
creating primal defenses by going in a slower, more measured way. It is
possible that I was.
On the other hand, I have seen many people thrown into extreme defense by
primal intensives. They don't always work to open clients up. In addition,
they produce in some people such extreme chaos that it may take years to
reintegrate. So "you pays your money and you takes your choice."
The great thing about slower, yet feeling oriented work, is that everyone
picks their rate of descent into pain and the level of intensity that is
right for them. They do this out of "informed choice." They are informed by
their ongoing experience, not by what they "think" they are going to need.
Therefore, it is extremely rare to hear the question, "What have you done to
me?"
Once I found my feet, I never had anyone complain to me that I was holding
them back.
It must be remembered, however, that one's personality is constantly reforming
itself into its' protective modes, and it does so unconsciously. That means
that people don't always know if they are being held back. They may think
something wonderful is happening, when it might be more wonderful somewhere
else.
We could all really do a number on ourselves about this, but somewhere we
have to say, "O.K., I am doing the best that I can, and it has to be enough."
Let those who want intensives, choose them. They are not good or bad within
themselves. They are simply a tool of great power, no more and no less.
When the right therapist and the right client come together for a primal
intensive, wonderful is the result. When one of them isn't right for it,
the result is very, very unwonderful.
Should you wish to participate in a regressive intensive experience, I
would make the following suggestions, so that you can arrive at the most
informed consent possible.
1. Read several books about this kind of journey. I believe my own, Help
Me-I'm Tired of Feeing Bad, is the most detailed description of Deep
Regressive Therapy available in the world today. I know, anyone coming to
see me for this kind of work must read this book. When they do, I feel I am
dealing with a reasonably informed person.
2. Discuss deeply, with someone who has been in this work for at least a
year, what is to be expected when doing it.
3. If possible observe a primal session or primal group in action.
The bottom line is, whether or not I would choose my kind of work for
myself, if I had it to do all over again? I would!
Paul Vereshack M.D.