Body Psychotherapy. Vassilis Christodoulou
know if I want to. I love her, I find her attractive, but right now I’m not sure that I want to have sex and I don’t know what to do.
V. Ch.: What if you simply told her that right now you don’t feel like having sex? If you simply said: ‘Darling, I don’t feel like it’, wouldn’t that be enough? Never mind the fact that you don’t know if she really wants sex.
C. D.: It’s not just that I don’t know if she wants sex, but even if she wanted it, she’s so good to me that I’m sure she wouldn’t grumble or complain or pull a face about it.
V. Ch.: Has anyone grumbled or pulled a face at you before?
C. D.: My parents! They were never happy with me… Never… I remember one day after school when I was young… I hadn’t done very well in a test and I was feeling worn out, I wanted to go to bed and forget about everything. They showed no understanding, they humiliated me and I felt drained. And then later, when I was fifteen or sixteen years old, I was afraid of having a relationship. I was afraid of being criticised by my parents and the girl I’d have a relationship with… I joined the army and hoped I might go out with a girl but I preferred to masturbate… That’s why even now I’m still quite addicted to it. I still find it difficult to take risks… I play it safe… Oh my God, I feel so drained… I want to lie down…
He lay down on the mattress and continued:
C. D.: It’s no accident that I used to tell my parents lies. By telling lies I would try and get a little bit of love and affection… Whenever I told the truth they were dissatisfied with me and rejected me. Whenever a lie was in danger of being exposed, I would make up a new one to cover up the previous one and eventually I always found myself trapped. It still haunts me, even now…
V. Ch.: Now, at this very moment, how do you feel? Focus on your body and your feelings.
C. D.: I feel as if a weight has been lifted off me! I don’t feel any anger, I don’t want to hit out… though I feel hurt… I feel as if I should give an account of myself to somebody, as if someone will judge me… I’m almost trapped in a tight corner. My throat hurts, it feels as though there’s a huge lump in it. I feel the need to curl up…
He curled up into a foetal position and remained silent for a while. He held my left hand while I supported his back with my right. A little later he continued:
C. D.: I’m ten years old now… I’m curled up in this position on my bed… That’s how I protect myself.
V. Ch.: Protect yourself from whom?
C. D.: From those who judge me, my parents.
He remained silent for a while.
V. Ch.: Now, at this moment, do you feel as if I’m judging you?
C. D.: No…
V. Ch.: Good. Now what would help you feel better?
C. D.: To wake up and find that all this is just a bad dream. There’s no other way I can deal with it. I’m not a bad person… I can’t bear the thought that they are judging me and that this will never end. Okay, that’s all right but… There will always be ‘buts’… She’s okay but… He’s happy but… I was always afraid of the ‘buts’… The ‘buts’ are so unpredictable… and you can’t use them to cover yourself either.
V. Ch.: Now, at this moment, what would help you feel a little bit better?
C. D.: A little chat… yes, that’s right… and a good hug would help me.
I covered him with a blanket and held him just as he was, in the foetal position, and I urged him to breathe a little more deeply. He realised, as he was speaking, that the lump in his throat had shrunk. The physical contact and the way I was holding him, with no conditions attached, were doing him good. Somebody was there for him, only for him, without expecting anything from him and without judging him. He remained in this position for quite a long time, as if he were in the nourishing environment of the womb and being nourished by it. His body relaxed, his breathing became deeper and calmer. Slowly he uncurled his body and stretched out his limbs, taking his time. Now he could feel his pelvis; now he could feel his legs and he began to play around with them; he lifted them up and looked at them… He moved the back of his neck around and then… opening his eyes, he gazed up at me like a young baby. He was like a young baby that was still receiving its mother’s attentions and he felt good. He remained lying down and, as he looked up, I smiled at him and, pulling gently on his hands, raised him up slightly. His head fell slightly backwards; his neck was slacker now… He began to respond to my smile and said that he felt ‘different’ at being able to read it well. I asked him not to exert himself at all, but just let himself go and feel what it was like for his body to be lifted up just a short way, only with my help. This was a brand new experience for him… having somebody concern themselves solely with him in a joyful and unhurried way.
Once he had experienced this different ‘now’ and registered it in his system, he was ready to move on to raising himself up through his own efforts and my support. I gave him my hands, he held on to them and, using the strength of his own arms, raised himself up a little. This was also a new experience for him and felt good too. It felt good having someone to support him, to look at him with a joyful expression and in a way that was not only non-judgmental but also encouraging. He took his time, turned over onto his front, discovered what it was like to crawl on all fours with an adult nearby to support him, and then sat down on the floor. It was now time to support his back and the back of his neck so that, with the soles of his feet and his palms planted firmly on the ground and breathing deeply from his stomach, he could feel what it was like to raise his head. It was a truly novel experience for him… He felt so strong that he pushed down firmly and stood up straight. He felt taller than he had ever been before…
Now I’m not afraid. I know it and I can tell my parents, ‘Look, I’m strong now and whether you criticise me or not is your business; it doesn’t bother me.’
Of course, getting to the point where his parents’ criticism no longer bothered him was going to take more time and treatment. Even so, we had made good progress.
From Reich to Lowen and from Lowen to biosynthesis
In body psychotherapy there are no predefined working methods relating to body posture. Together with Reich, we recognise that the lying-down position is an important one because it helps the patient to regress easily and in some cases this is very useful. It can lead us quickly to the patient’s childhood, although as Alexander Lowen has shown, this is not an adult posture. Thus, when we want to strengthen the adult part of the patient, we want them to stand firmly on their own two feet and, as we say, to be ‘well grounded’ – a term introduced by Lowen. In our focus on vertical grounding we aim at the adult part of the patient.
In biosynthesis we do not simply move between these two positions. Recognising the importance of both, we move on to form a new synthesis, stressing the importance of an effective union of the upper and lower parts of the body and then of a grounding of both, the legs-pelvis and the head. This is precisely what I applied in my treatment of C. D. We began our therapy sessions in a seated position; later he felt the need to lie down and his system did in fact lead him, regressively, to recall childhood experiences. Then he moved into the womb, where he stayed to take nourishment for as long as he needed, then, together, step by step, we discovered the spinal column and the adult posture, in which he was able to view his parents on equal terms and through his experience with his parents enter a society of equals on equal terms. (This particular session lasted one and a half hours. I would like to stress the fact that in the experiential exercises and the individual issues that we dealt with in this therapy session we returned repeatedly to the same exercises and issues until they had been mastered and fully integrated by the patient’s system.)
Hence the unifying spinal column has its place in biosynthesis. Grounding is to do with the grip we have on the ground, the grip we have on physical reality, on the natural process of life. Our work, the obligations of our own individual reality, money, the management of space and time, are all connected with grounding. If I have a firm grip on the ground, I know who