Contents
This chapter brings together two of my self-conversations. Five years ago, I was asked to speak in my senior year at Brandeis University and talk not about my theory of psychotherapy, but about myself. How did I start thinking this way? How did I become who I am? These questions gave me a lot of thoughts, and I decided to accept the invitation. Last year, the Wisconsin State Student Convention Forum Committee made a similar offer to me. They asked me to tell about myself in the lectures from the Last Lecture series, where it is assumed that the professor, for some reason, is giving his last lecture and therefore can open up to the students. (It’s amazing that in our education system, a professor only reveals himself and his personal views when it’s absolutely necessary.) During my talk in Wisconsin, I delved deeper into the core of my knowledge, the philosophical subject matter that made sense to me. than did it during the first conversation. In this chapter, I have connected both conversations together, trying to keep the informal atmosphere in which they proceeded.
The reaction of students to my speeches made me realize how people are eager to know something about the person who teaches them. With this in mind, I have made this chapter the first in the book, hoping that it will tell about me and thus provide context and meaning for subsequent chapters.
I was asked to talk to a group of people about myself. Of course, when I heard such an invitation, I experienced a variety of feelings, but I would like to highlight just one of them — I felt proud, I felt flattered that someone wants to know what kind of person I am. I can assure you that such a proposal calls for frankness. To a frank question, I will try to answer as sincerely as I can.
So what kind of person am I? I am a psychologist whose main interests for many years have been in the field of psychotherapy. What does it mean? I am not going to tell you long and tedious about my work, but in order to express my attitude towards it, I would like to quote here a few paragraphs from the introduction to my book Client Centered Psychotherapy. In the introduction, I tried to give readers a feel for the theme of this book, so I wrote the following:
“What is this book about? Let me answer this question in order to at least to some extent reveal the life experience that constitutes the content of the book.
“This book is about suffering and hope, about anxiety and satisfaction, which breathes in the office of every therapist. She talks about the uniqueness of the relationship that each time arises between the client and the therapist, as well as about the commonality that can be found in all these relationships. This book is about a very personal experience of each of us. It is about the client in my waiting room, sitting at the edge of the table, trying to be himself and at the same time mortally afraid to be him, longing to see his experience as it is, wanting to fully recognize it as his own in the moment and at the same time very afraid to do it. This book is about me, about how I sit opposite the client, participate in this struggle, using all my spiritual strength and feelings. This book is about me, about how I tried to penetrate the client’s life experience, its sensual coloring, to perceive the meaning of this experience, to feel its taste and flavor. This book is about me, about how I curse my human tendency to make mistakes and misunderstand the client, my occasional blunders in understanding how his life seems to him; these mistakes fall like heavy stones on the complex thin network woven from the threads of his personal growth, which is now taking place. This book is about me, about how I rejoice that I have the privilege of being a midwife at the birth of a new personality, about how I stand nearby and watch with awe the emergence of «I», the emergence of an individual, I follow the process of birth in which I played an important, accelerating role. This book is both about the client and me, about how we both observe in amazement the powerful and organized forces that are inherent in this life experience, forces that seem to underlie the entire universe. This book, it seems to me, is about life, about how it opens up in the process of psychotherapy with its blind power and huge capacity for destruction, but also with an even stronger desire for development, if there is a possibility for it.”
Perhaps these words will give you some idea of what I do and how I feel about it. I suppose you may also want to know how I got started in this business, what decisions I had to make along the way, what choices I had to make consciously or subconsciously. With your permission, I will try to highlight a number of psychological milestones in my biography, especially those that relate to my professional life.
My early years
I was brought up in a family with very strong family ties, in a very strict, uncompromising religious and ethical atmosphere, in a family where the virtue of hard work was worshipped. I was the fourth of six children. My parents were very concerned about us and our well-being. They also influenced our behavior in many ways, but they did it gently and lovingly. They believed, and I also agreed with them, that we were different from other people — we had no alcoholic drinks, dances, maps, going to the theater, few visits and a lot of work. I had a hard time convincing my own children that even carbonated drinks had a slightly sinful flavor, and I remember experiencing some sense of sinfulness when I opened my first bottle of bubbly. We had a good time with our family, but did not communicate with other people. Thus, I was a rather lonely boy who read constantly and only went on dates twice throughout high school.
When I was twelve years old, my parents bought a farm and we settled there. There were two reasons for this. My father became a prosperous businessman and wanted to have a farm as a hobby. However, the more important reason, in my opinion, was that my parents believed that a family with teenagers should be removed from the temptations of life in the suburbs.
There I developed two hobbies that probably actually had a real bearing on my future work. I was fascinated by large moths (the books of Jean Stratton-Porter were then in vogue), and I became a true connoisseur of the species of moths, the moon, polyphimus, tsikropia, and others that inhabit our forests. I have labored to breed them in captivity, raising them from caterpillars, keeping cocoons during the long winter months, and generally experiencing the joys and sorrows of a scientist who tries to observe nature.
My father decided that farm work should be done on a scientific basis, and so he bought a lot of special books on farming. He supported his sons in their first forays into entrepreneurship, so my brothers and I had chickens and occasionally raised newborn lambs, piglets, and calves. While doing this, I studied cultural agriculture, and only recently realized how deeply I entered science by working in this way. There was no one to tell me that Morison’s Food and Nutrition book was not for a fourteen year old, and I laboriously worked my way through its pages, gaining knowledge of how experiments are done, how control groups are matched to experimental groups, how the randomization procedure ensures the constancy of conditions in order to reveal the impact of given feeds on meat or milk production. I learned how difficult it is to test a hypothesis. I gained knowledge of scientific methods in practice and began to respect them.
College and higher education
I went to Wisconsin State College and studied agriculture. What I remember most was an impassioned talk by one of the professors in the field of agronomy, which dealt with learning and using facts. He stressed the uselessness of encyclopedic knowledge for knowledge’s sake and ended his speech with the wish: «Don’t be a damn ammo cart, be a gun!»
During the first two years of study, I changed my profession. As a result of several emotionally charged religious student conferences, I moved from the profession of a scientific agronomist to a spiritual profession — quite a bit of a transition! I changed the subject of study — agronomy — to history, thinking that this would be a good preparation for future activities.
In my senior year, I was one of twelve students sent from the US to China for an international conference of the Student Christian Federation. This trip was very important to me. It was 1922, four years after the end of the First World War. I saw how fiercely the French and Germans hated each other, although in themselves they were very pleasant people. This made me think seriously, and I came to the conclusion that sincere and honest people can have completely different religious views. In fact, for the first time I freed myself from the religious faith of my parents and realized that I could not go any further with them. Differences of opinion made our relationship tense and caused us heartache, but looking back, I think that’s when I became an independent person. During the period of study, I rebelled and rebelled against religion more than once, but the split was clearly outlined precisely in those six months when I was in the East and comprehended these problems without experiencing family pressure.
Although I am presenting facts that influenced my professional and not personal growth, I want to briefly note one very important event in my personal life. During my trip to China, I fell in love with a charming girl whom I had known since childhood. And although my parents reluctantly agreed to the marriage, we got married as soon as we graduated from college. Of course, I cannot be completely objective, but I believe that her faithful, supportive love and friendship throughout the following years gave me a lot and were very important to me.
To prepare for religious work, I chose Union Theological Seminary, which at that time (1924) was the most liberal. I never regretted the two years I spent there. I have met some eminent scientists and teachers, especially I want to mention Dr. E. C. McGiffett, who truly believed in the freedom of knowledge and in the fact that the truth must be sought no matter where it leads.
Now, knowing universities and graduate school well, I am really surprised at one very important event in Union for me. Some of us felt that knowledge was being pushed into us, while from the very beginning we wanted to find the answers to our questions and doubts ourselves and follow the path that they would lead us to. We asked the administration for permission to open a seminar with a credit, a seminar without a leader, the program of which would be compiled from our own questions. It is clear that the authorities were puzzled by our request, but they granted it! The only restriction was that the young leader had to attend the seminar, but by agreement not to take part in it until we ourselves wanted it.
I think there is no need to say that this seminar met our expectations and clarified a lot. I feel that thanks to him I have advanced a lot along the path of the philosophy of life that I profess. Most of the students in this group, considering and solving the problems they raised, abandoned religion. I was one of them. I felt that I would always be interested in problems of the meaning of life and the possibility of real improvement for the individual, but I could not work in an area where it is necessary to believe in some well-defined religious doctrine. My beliefs at that time had already changed a lot and could continue to change. It seemed terrible to me to force myself to confess my faith just to keep my profession. I wanted to find an area where I could be sure that my freedom of thought would not be limited by anything.
Becoming a psychologist
But what is this area? In the seminary, I was attracted by classes and lectures on psychology and psychiatry, which were just beginning at that time. Goodwin Watson, Harrison Elliot, Marian Canversy — they all contributed to the development of this interest. I started attending more lecture courses at Columbia University College of Education, which was across the street from the seminary. I took up the philosophy of education under William H. Kilpatrick9 and found him to be an excellent teacher. I also got involved in practical work in a children’s clinic under the direction of Lita Hollingvers, a sensible and practical person. I was attracted to the work of providing psychological assistance to children, so gradually and painlessly I moved into another field — guiding children — and began to consider myself a clinical psychologist. It was a step that I easily climbed, obeying rather than a clear conscious choice, but only following the activity that interested me.
When I was at the College of Education, I applied and was given a scholarship to become an intern at the Guiding Child Assistance Institute. The term “guidance” is translated by us as “guiding assistance”. It includes testing and personal conversations, in which, together with the client, the direction of his further general educational, professional or family development is developed. There are referral centers in schools and colleges, agencies that provide career guidance, and family counseling. The referral specialist has either the training of an educational consultant or other training and experience that allows him to give advice and provide referral assistance. — Approx. translation, just formed with the support of the State Fund. In the future, I was grateful to have worked there during the first year of the Institute’s formation. Chaos reigned, but that meant you could do whatever you wanted. I absorbed the active Freudian views of collaborators such as David Levy and Lawson Lowry and found them to be at odds with the scientific, purely objective statistical approach to science that prevailed at the College of Education. Looking back, I think that having to resolve this contradiction was a very valuable experience for me. At that time, I had the feeling that I live in two completely different worlds, and «these two will never meet.»
By the end of the internship, it was important to get a job to support my growing family, even though my doctoral thesis was not completed. There were few vacancies, and I remember what a sense of relief and joy came over me when I found a job. I was hired as a psychologist by the Child Studies Division of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children in Rochester, New York. There were three psychologists in the department, and my salary was $2900 a year.
Now I look at this position with surprise and a smile. The reason for my joy was that it was a chance to do what I wanted to do. The fact that, under reasonable consideration, this was a professional dead end, that I would be professionally isolated, that the pay was low even by the standards of the day, I remember never even crossed my mind. I think I always had the feeling that if I was given the opportunity to do what I was most interested in, everything else would work out somehow.
Years in Rochester
The next 12 years in Rochester were extremely rewarding for me. For at least the first eight years, I was completely absorbed in the work of a practical psychologist, conducting psychotherapeutic conversations and diagnosing and developing methods of helping juvenile delinquents and children from low-income families, which were sent to us by the court and agencies. It was a period of comparative professional isolation, when everything was focused on working with our clients as efficiently as possible. We had to accept both successes and failures, and as a result, we were forced to learn. Choosing this or that method of working with these children and their parents, I asked only one question: does this method work, is it effective? I found myself increasingly formulating my own position from everyday work experience.
I can give three examples from this experience, small but very important to me at the time. Apparently, all of them are connected with cases of disappointment — in authority, in materials and in oneself.
In preparation for my work as a psychologist, I was very fascinated by the writings of Dr. William Healy, which argued that sexual conflict often underlies criminal behavior and that if this conflict is identified, criminal behavior will cease. In my second or third year in Rochester, I worked very hard with a young pyromaniac who had an inexplicable taste for arson. Day after day, as I talked to him in the holding cell, I gradually discovered that his desire was based on the sexual impulses associated with masturbation. Eureka! The problem was solved! However, when he was paroled, he again fell into the same story.
I remember what a blow it was for me. Healy could be wrong! Maybe I learned something that Healy didn’t know. For some reason, this case made me realize that there can be errors in the theories of authorities and that something new can be discovered.
My next naive discovery was of a different kind. Shortly after my arrival in Rochester, I had a discussion with students about the technique of conversation. I had an almost verbatim published transcript of a conversation with a single parent in which the psychologist looked like a shrewd, intelligent person who quickly got to the source of the difficulties. I was happy that I could use this protocol as an example of good conversational technique.
Conducting a similar session a few years later, I remembered this excellent material. I found it, re-read it and was shocked. Now the conversation seemed to me like a cleverly conducted interrogation that convinced the parent of his unconscious motives and wrested a guilty plea from him. Now I know from my own experience that such a conversation will not bring real benefit to either the parent or the child. This incident made me come to the conclusion that I should abandon any approach that forces or pushes the client to do something, not for theoretical reasons, but because such approaches are only effective in appearance.
The third incident occurred a few years later. I have learned to interpret the client’s behavior more subtly and patiently, trying to time it well and do it so gently that my interpretation is accepted. I worked with a very intelligent mother whose son was a little monster. The reason obviously lay in her rejection of the boy in the past, but through many conversations I could not help her to realize this. I tried to draw her attention to this topic. I gently brought her closer to the circumstances that she herself told me about, so that she would see their meaning. But it was all in vain. Finally I gave up. I told her that we both seemed to have tried but failed and that it was best for us to separate. She agreed. On this we ended the conversation, said goodbye, and she went to the door. Then she turned around and asked: “Do you consult adults?” When I answered in the affirmative, she said, «Okay, then help me.» She walked over to the chair she had just risen from and began venting her frustrations about her marriage, her messed up relationship with her husband, her confusion and failures. This was so different from the stereotypical «case history» she had presented earlier! Then the real psychotherapy began, and in the end it was very successful. This case was one of many that helped me feel and then realize that it is the client who can know what worries him, in what direction he should go, what problems are significant for him, what life experience he has in the depths of his consciousness. It became clear to me that until I had the need to demonstrate my mind and knowledge, in the process of psychotherapy it is better to rely on the client when choosing where to move and what to do.
Psychologist or…?
At this time, I began to doubt whether I was a psychologist. Psychologists at the University of Rochester made me understand that what I do is not psychology; they were also not interested in my teaching in the psychology department. I attended meetings of the American Psychological Association and found that the talks there were mostly about learning processes in rats and laboratory experiments that had nothing to do with what I was doing. The psychiatric social workers seemed to speak my language, so I began to take an interest in the social work profession, working in local and even national offices. It wasn’t until the American Association for Applied Psychology was formed that I became really active as a psychologist.
I started lecturing at university in the department of sociology on how to understand and deal with difficult children. Soon the department of education also recognized that these courses were related to the psychology of education. (Before I left Rochester, the psychology department also asked permission to put them on the program, so I was recognized as a psychologist.) Only now, as I describe these events, do I begin to realize how stubbornly I went my own way, not caring about whether I keep up with the representatives of my profession or not.
Lack of time does not allow me to talk about how I opened the Rochester Referral Center office, or about the struggle with some psychiatrists, which was also part of my life at that time. These administrative concerns had little to do with the development of my ideas.
My kids
The early childhood of my son and daughter coincided with the period of my work in Rochester. Their development has taught me much more than any professional training. I don’t think I was a good father at the time; fortunately, they had a wonderful mother — my wife, through whom I gradually became a more and more understanding parent. Of course, the advantage that I had in these years and later was invaluable, communicating with two beautiful receptive souls, with their sorrows and joys of childhood, with the onslaught and difficulties of adolescence, with their growing up and starting their own family life. I think that my wife also considers one of the best achievements that we have ever had, that we can really communicate with our adult children and their spouses, and they with us.
Years in Ohio
In 1940 I accepted an offer to teach at Ohio State University. I’m sure the only reason I was invited was my book, The Clinical Treatment of the Problem Child, which I had worked out during vacations and brief absences. To my delight, and something I did not expect at all, I was offered a professorship. I wholeheartedly recommend starting your career in the scientific world at this level. I’ve often felt grateful that I didn’t enter the academically humiliating competition of stair-by-step career progression in university departments, in which the participants learn only one lesson: keep a low profile.
It was in trying to teach Ohio University graduates what I had learned about treatment and counseling that I perhaps first began to realize that, based on my experience, I had formed a completely different view of these problems. When I tried to outline some of my ideas and present them in an article published in December 1940 at the University of Minnesota, the reaction of those around was very violent. For the first time, I felt that my new theory, which seemed to me brilliant and full of great possibilities, was a threat to other people. The fact that I found myself in the center of criticism, arguments for and against, discouraged me and made me think. Despite this, I felt that I had something to say, and I wrote the manuscript «Counseling and Psychotherapy» outlining what I thought was a more effective direction in psychotherapy. Again, with some surprise, I now realize how little I have tried to be practical. When I submitted the manuscript, the publisher found it interesting and innovative, but wanted to know what course and university it was for. I replied that I knew only two possibilities for its use — a course where I taught, and another course at another university. The publisher thought that I had made a big mistake by not adapting my text to the appropriate university courses. He doubted very much whether he could sell the 2000 copies of the book needed to cover the cost of publishing it. And only when I said that I would give the book to another publisher, he decided to enter the game. I don’t know which of us was more surprised — 70 copies have been sold so far and demand has not yet been met.
recent years
I think my subsequent professional life — 5 years at Ohio State, 12 at the University of Chicago, and 4 years at the University of Wisconsin — is well reflected in the books I have written. I will briefly outline some of the results that are important to me.
I have learned to enter deeper and deeper psychotherapeutic relationships with a growing number of clients. This has given me great satisfaction both now and in the past. At times both now and then it was very difficult when a person who is suffering greatly seems to require more from me than I have to meet his needs. Psychotherapy requires constant personal growth from the therapist, and this is sometimes painful, although in the long run it pays off.
I would also like to note the ever-increasing importance of research work for me. Psychotherapy is an experience in which I can be subjective. Research is an experience in which I step back and try to look at rich subjective experience objectively, using all the elegant methods of science to determine if I’m kidding myself. There is a growing conviction in me that we will discover laws of personality and behavior that are as important to human progress and understanding as the law of gravity or the laws of thermodynamics.
Over the past two decades, I’ve kind of gotten used to wrestling, but I’m still surprised by the response to my theory. It always seemed to me that I stated my thoughts only as suggestions, which can be accepted or rejected by readers or students.
In different places at different times, my ideas aroused feelings of anger, contempt, criticism from psychologists, counselors and educators. And as soon as the passions subsided among these specialists, they again flared up among psychiatrists, some of whom feel in my work a threat to their most protected and unshakable principles. Waves of criticism have done me, perhaps, no more damage than that inflicted by uncritical and inquisitive «students» — those who took something new from my theory and launched into battles with everyone without exception, using the right ones as weapons, and misinterpretations of my personality and my ideas. Sometimes I find it difficult to understand who has done me more damage — my «friends» or my enemies. Obviously, partly because of the need to fight, I began to appreciate the opportunity to get away from people, to retire. It seems to me that the most fruitful periods in my work were periods of seclusion from other people, their thoughts, professional contacts and everyday requirements, when I could see the perspective of my work. My wife and I found remote places in Mexico and on the Caribbean coast, where no one knows that I am a psychologist, and where my main activities are painting, color photography, scuba diving. However, it is in these corners, working no more than 2-4 hours a day, that I have made more progress in recent years than ever before. I really appreciate the benefits of privacy.
Some essential results of my knowledge of people
In the previous very brief essay, I outlined the external milestones of my professional life. I would like to share with you its content, what I have learned from thousands of hours spent in close and confidential communication with people suffering from personal problems.
I would like it to be clear that these are the results of knowledge, important only for me. I don’t know if they will be important to you too. I have no desire to pass them off as a guidebook for anyone else. However, I found that people’s stories about their inner world are valuable to me, if only because they allowed me to recognize my differences. It is with this in mind that I offer you, on the following pages, the results of my knowledge. In each case, I think they became part of my actions and inner beliefs long before I became aware of them. Of course, they are somewhat sketchy and incomplete. It should only be noted that both in the past and in the present they are very important to me. I am constantly studying them. I often fail to use them, but still find it best to act on them. However, I can’t always find a use for them.
This knowledge is not permanent. Some of them become more important, others become less important at some time, but all of them are of great importance to me.
I will introduce each summation of my knowledge with a sentence that reveals its meaning to me. Then I will expand its description somewhat. Descriptions of individual results of my knowledge will be presented chaotically, except that at the beginning I will present knowledge related mainly to human relations with other people. Then — those that are applicable to the sphere of personal values and beliefs.
I can start these results of knowledge that are important to me with negation. In my relationships with other people, I found that if I pretend to be someone other than who I really am, nothing good will come of it. Even a mask that expresses calmness and contentment will not help to build relationships if anger and threat are hidden behind it; nor a friendly expression on your face if you are hostile in your soul; nor ostentatious self-confidence, behind which fear and uncertainty are felt. I have found that this statement is true even for less complex levels of behavior. It won’t help if I act like I’m healthy when I feel sick.
The point is that if I express what is not, it will not work: my relationships with other people will not be effective if I try to keep the facade, act one way on the outside, while feeling something completely different inside. I believe that this will not help me build good relationships with other people. I want to clarify that although I believe this result of my knowledge is correct, I have not always used it in practice. It seems to me that most of the mistakes in interpersonal relationships that I made, most of the times when I could not help another person, can be explained by the fact that outwardly I behaved in one way, while in reality I felt quite different.
The next result of my knowledge can be formulated in this way: I find that I achieve more success in relationships with other people when I can perceive myself and be myself, accepting myself as I am. I feel that over the years I have learned to perceive myself more adequately, that I know much better than before how I feel at any given moment. I am able to understand that I am angry, or reject this person, or that I am bored and uninterested in what is happening, or that I want to understand this person, or that I am overcome by anxiety and fear when communicating with this person. I can catch in myself all these different feelings and attitudes to what is happening. I can say that I feel that I am more and more successful in giving myself the opportunity to be who I am. It became easier for me to accept myself as an imperfect person, who, of course, does not act in all cases as he would like.
For some, this turn may seem very strange. I consider it very valuable. Because a curious paradox arises — when I accept myself as I am, I change. I think the experience of many clients, as well as my own, has taught me this, namely, that we do not change until we unconditionally accept ourselves for who we really are. And then the change happens almost imperceptibly.
Apparently, from accepting oneself as I am, another consequence follows — relationships with others acquire authenticity. Genuine relationships are surprisingly vital, they are full of meaning. If I accept that this client or student bores or annoys me, then I am more likely to be able to accept his feelings in return. I will also be able to accept the emerging changes in my experience and his feelings. Genuine relationships usually change, live, and do not remain static.
Therefore, I find it useful to allow myself to be myself in relationships with people, to know when my patience reaches the limit, and to accept this as a fact; know when I am willing to shape or manipulate people, and also accept this as a fact of my inner experience. I would like to accept these kinds of feelings in the same way as I accept feelings of warmth, interest, permission, kindness, understanding, because they are the same part of me. It is when I accept all these experiences as a fact, as part of myself, that my relationships with other people become what they really are, and are able to quickly develop and change.
Now I come to the main result of my knowledge of people, which is very important for me. I want to put it this way: I have found it extremely important to allow myself to understand the other person. You may find this statement strange. Is it really necessary to allow yourself to understand another person? I think yes. Our first reaction to most other people’s statements is to immediately evaluate them rather than understand them. When someone expresses some feeling, attitude, or belief, we almost immediately think, «This is right» or «This is stupid», «This is not normal», «This is not reasonable», «This is wrong», «This is not good». Very rarely do we allow ourselves to understand exactly what meaning this statement has for the interlocutor. I think this is because allowing yourself to understand another comes with a certain amount of risk. If I allow myself to understand another, I can change myself through that understanding. And we are all afraid of change. Therefore, as I say, it is not easy to allow yourself to understand a person to the end and completely, to understand his point of view and feelings. This also rarely happens.
Understanding the other enriches us mutually. Working with a client who suffers from personal problems, who feels that life is too hard to bear, or with a person who believes that he is worthless and suffers from feelings of inferiority, or with a psychopath with his bizarre inner world and understands them all — every time you feel that you enrich yourself. Perceiving their life experience, I change, I become a different, probably more responsive person. And more importantly, my understanding enables them to change. It enables them to accept their own fears, bizarre thoughts, feelings of grief and discouragement, as well as their courage, kindness, love and tenderness. Both their experience and mine say that if someone fully understands their feelings, they themselves become able to accept them. And after that, clients find that both feelings and themselves change. Whether I understand a woman who feels like she has a hook in her head that others lead her around, or a man who feels that no one is as alone and separated from other people as he is, this understanding is important to me, but it is just as important and even more important that you are understood, for a person who is understood.
Here is another important result for me of my knowledge of people. I have found that I gain a lot when I do my best to get people to tell me about their feelings, about their personal experience of perception. Since understanding is very enriching, I would like to break down the barriers between me and other people, so that they, if they wish, can reveal themselves more fully.
In a relationship with a client in a psychotherapy session, I have many opportunities to make it easier for the client to reveal himself. My own attitude towards him can create a sense of security in whose hiding place it is easy to communicate. Accurate understanding of the client as he sees himself, and acceptance of his feelings and ideas, also helps.
As a teacher, I also gain a lot when I help students share with me. Therefore, I try, not always, though not always successfully, to create such a climate in the classroom in which feelings can be freely expressed and opinions different from each other and from the lecturer’s opinion can be expressed. I also often asked students to fill out «feedback sheets» in which everyone could express their opinions and personal feelings about the course. Students could tell if the course met their needs, express their feelings towards the instructor, or report their own personal difficulties while studying the course. This «feedback sheet» had no effect on their grades. Sometimes the same classes evoked completely different feelings in students. One student said: «The manner in which these classes are conducted gives me a feeling of disgust that I do not understand.» Another non-American student said of the same week of classes, “The teaching we have is the best, most useful, and scientifically based. But for those like us who are accustomed to an authoritarian style, this new type of learning is incomprehensible. People like us are used to listening to directions, passively recording lecture after lecturer, and memorizing what is given for exams. Needless to say, such habits are very difficult to get rid of, even if they do not produce results and are useless. The acceptance of these sharply differing points of view has been of great benefit to me.
I have found that the same is observed in groups in which I act as a leader or are perceived as a leader. I want people to have less fear or defensiveness so they can freely express their feelings. This idea really captured me and led to a completely new point of view on what management is. But I can’t expand on that here.
There is another important result of knowledge that I have deduced from my consulting work. I can say briefly. I have found that I get a lot when I can accept another person.
I found that sincerely accepting another person and his feelings is not at all so simple, at least not easier than understanding him. Can I really allow another person to be hostile towards me? Can I accept his anger as a valid and legitimate part of his personality? Can I accept him if he looks at life and its problems in a completely different way than I do? Can I accept a person who treats me beautifully, adores me and wants to be like me? All this goes into accepting a person, and all this is not easy. I think that in our culture everyone is subject to the following cliche: «Every person should feel, think and believe the same way as I do.» We find it very difficult to allow children, parents, or spouses to experience something different about certain problems from what we experience. We do not allow our clients or students to be different from us or to make sense of their life experience in their own way. As a nation, we cannot allow another nation to think or feel differently than we do. However, it seems to me that the differences between people, the right of each person to comprehend his life experience in his own way and find his own meaning in it — all these are priceless opportunities of life. Each person is an island in itself, and he can build bridges to other islands only if he wants to be himself and allows others to do so. So I find myself helping the other person to be themselves when I can accept them. This means accepting his feelings, attitudes, beliefs, which are really part of himself. And there is great value in that.
The next result of my knowledge, which I want to present, may be difficult for you. It is this: the more I am open to the perception of reality and the inner world — my own and another person — the less I strive to «settle things.»
The more I try to listen to myself and my inner feelings and try to do the same in relation to another person, the more I respect the complex ups and downs of life. So I’m becoming less and less inclined to rush to sort things out, set goals, shape people, manipulate them, and push them where I want them to be. I’m much more inclined to be myself and let the other person be themselves. I understand very well that this opinion may seem strange, similar to what they think of a person in the East. Why then live if we are not going to do anything with people? What is life for if we are not going to mold people according to our ideals? What is life for if we are not going to teach them what we think they should learn? What is life for if we are not going to make them feel and think the same as we feel and think? How can anyone take such a passive position, like the one I’m talking about now? I am sure that such thoughts must arise in many as a reaction to my words. However, the paradox of my experience is that the more I want to be myself in our complex life, the more I want to understand and accept the realities of my experience and the experience of other people, the more I and others change. This is very paradoxical: to the extent that each of us wants to be himself, he finds that not only he changes, the other people with whom he is connected also change. At the very least, this is a very vivid part of my experience and one of the most profound truths that I have come to know in my personal life and work.
Now let’s move on to other learning outcomes, less about human relationships and more about my own actions and values. The first of these summaries is very brief. I can trust my life experience. One of the basic ideas that I have been unable to grasp for a long time, and which I still continue to master, is that if an action seems worthwhile to you, it should be taken. In other words, I realized that one can rely on a holistic organismic feeling of a situation more than on its logical understanding.
All my professional life I have been going in a direction that seemed stupid to others and which I myself have more than once doubted. But I never regretted going in a direction that “felt right,” even if I often felt lonely or out of my depth.
I found that, trusting in some inner non-intellectual instinct, I later recognized that the step I had taken was the right one. All my life I have followed an extraordinary path because I felt it was right. And it was like that because after 5-10 years many of my colleagues joined me and I didn’t feel lonely anymore.
As I gradually began to have more confidence in these integral reactions, I found that I could use them in the organization of mental work. I began to pay more attention to those fragmentary thoughts that arise from time to time and make me feel significant. Now I am inclined to think that these not entirely clear thoughts and hints will lead me to important areas of research. I think I must believe the totality of my life experience, which I suspect is smarter than my intellect. Of course, my experience is subject to error, but, I hope, to a lesser extent than intelligence taken by itself …
Close to this outcome of knowledge lies another, which follows from it and says that I am not guided by the evaluations of others. The judgments of others, which I have to listen to and take into account, in fact, never served as a guide to action for me. It was difficult to know. I was shocked when a serious scientist, who seemed to me a more intelligent and erudite psychologist than I, said that my interest in psychotherapy was a mistake; that it will not lead me anywhere, and as a psychologist I will not even have the opportunity to have a practice.
In later years, I was stunned to learn that in the eyes of some people I was a liar, a person who practices medicine without a license, an author of superficial and harmful psychotherapy, a seeker of fame, a mystic, and so on. But I was not pleased and excessive praise.
Both blasphemy and praise did not bother me much, because I began to feel that only one person (at least from those known to me, and maybe in general) knows whether what I do is honest, reasonable, profound, open to all or false, carried out for the purpose of protection, unreasonable. And that person is me. I welcome any evidence of appreciation for my work. These include both criticism (friendly and hostile) and praise (sincere and feigned). But the task of assessing this evidence, determining its value and usefulness, I cannot leave to anyone.
Considering what I have just said, the following result of my knowledge will probably not surprise you. The highest authority for me is experience. Experience (experience) in this case means the phenomena «lived» by a person (internal and external experience). — Approx. ed.
The touchstone of credibility is my own experience. Neither the thoughts of others nor my own thoughts are as important as what I experience. It is to experience that I must return again and again in order to approach the comprehension of the truth, as it happens in my own development.
Neither the Bible, nor the prophets, nor Freud, nor research, nor the discoveries of God or man, can surpass my own experience. My experience is all the more reliable, the more it is primary, so to speak. Thus, in the hierarchy of different types of experience, the experience of the lowest level will be more reliable. If I lecture on the theory of psychotherapy, and if I formulate a theory of psychotherapy based on working with clients, and if I also have direct experience with clients, their reliability increases in the order in which I listed these experiences.
My experience is leading not because it is infallible. It is reliable because it can always be verified at the next customer contact. Therefore, it is always possible to correct a common mistake or some shortcoming.
Another result of my personal knowledge. I like to discover the rules that govern my experience. I always try to find meaning, order, or patterns in any large array of experiences. This is my kind of curiosity, which, I think, is worthy of encouragement, since it leads to wonderful results. It led me to all the main points that I have made. It led me to look for patterns in everything the clinician does when working with children, and from there came my book Clinical Treatment of the Problem Child. It led me to formulate the basic principles that seemed to work in psychotherapy, and from there to a number of books and many articles. Curiosity led me to explore the various patterns that I feel I have encountered in my experience. It tempted me to create theories to connect the patterns that I found in experience, and project them into new unexplored areas where they can be further tested.
Therefore, I began to understand that both scientific research and the creation of a theory are aimed at streamlining life experiences that are important to me. Research is a constant directed attempt to find meaning and regularity in the phenomena of subjective experience. They are necessary because it is important to perceive the world in order and because if we understand the laws of nature, this leads to worthwhile results.
Thus, I began to understand that the reason for my research and theory-building was to satisfy the need to perceive the world as orderly and meaningful. This is my subjective need. Sometimes I did research for other reasons than that — to convince others, to convince opponents and skeptics, to go further in my profession, to gain prestige, and for other unattractive reasons. These errors in purpose and action only convinced me that there is only one sound reason for scientific research, and that is the desire to satisfy one’s need to make sense of the world.
Another result of knowledge, which required a lot of effort from me to understand it, can be formulated in a nutshell: the facts are favorable.
I became very interested in the fact that most psychotherapists, especially psychoanalysts, consistently refused to scientifically investigate their psychotherapy and did not allow others to do so. I can understand their behavior because I felt the same way. I well remember how, in early research, I was worried about the end result. What if our hypothesis is rejected? What if our position was wrong?! Looking back, I see that at that time the facts seemed like potential enemies, potential harbingers of misfortune. It took me a long time to come to the conclusion that facts are always favorable. Any evidence that can be found in every field brings us closer to the truth. And what brings one closer to the truth can never be harmful, dangerous, unsatisfactory. Therefore, although I do not like to change my point of view, I still hate to abandon old ideas and concepts. However, at some deeper level, I understand more that these painful adjustments are what is called cognition. Although they are painful, they always lead to a more correct path, to a more correct vision of life. Thus, at present, one of the most enticing areas of research for me is one in which, thanks to scientific evidence, some of my favorite ideas have collapsed. I feel that if I can cut through this problem, I will get closer to the truth. I am confident that the facts will be my friends.
Here I want to offer you the result of knowledge, which was the most beneficial for me, as it gave me the opportunity to feel a deep kinship with other people. I can express this result in the following words. What is most characteristic of me personally applies to all people. There was a time when, in conversations with students, teachers, or in articles, I expressed a purely personal opinion. It seemed to me that the attitude that I express is so personal that perhaps no one will understand. Two examples of this are the preface to the book Client Centered Psychotherapy (which the publishers considered inappropriate) and the article on «Man or Science». In both cases, I found that a feeling that seemed to me purely personal, belonging only to me and therefore incomprehensible to others, resonated with many people. This incident made me believe that what is most personal and unique to one of us, if expressed and shared with others, can speak volumes to other people. It helped me to understand the artists and poets who dared to express what is unique in them.
There is another outcome of knowledge that perhaps underlies everything else that I have talked about so far. This is the result that came to me after more than twenty-five years of work helping people with personal problems. The easiest way to express this outcome is this: my experience tells me that at the heart of a person is the desire for positive change. In deep contact with individuals during psychotherapy, even those whose disorders are most severe, whose behavior is most antisocial, whose feelings seem to be the most extreme, I have come to the conclusion that this is true. When I was able to subtly understand the feelings they express, to accept them as individuals, I was able to detect in them a tendency to develop in a special direction. What is the direction in which they are developing? Most correctly, this direction can be defined in the following words: positive, constructive, directed towards self-actualization, maturity, socialization. I began to feel that the more fully a person is understood and accepted, the more he tries to throw off the false facade that he uses when facing life, and the more he strives to move forward.
I don’t want to be misunderstood. I do not perceive human nature in the spirit of Pollyanna. Pollyanna is the heroine of the novel «Pollyanna» by the American writer E. Porter. Her character is distinguished by invincible optimism, Pollyanna sees only the good in everything. This name is often used in a common sense: «an adherent of blind optimism.» — Approx. ed.
I know that people can act violent, immature, very destructive, anti-social, hurtful because of their defensiveness and fear. However, my experience with them inspires me and gives me strength, as I am constantly convinced of the positive direction of their development at a deep level — just like all of us.
Let’s end this summing up with a final summary. Life at its best is a fluid and changing process in which nothing is permanent.
Both for me and for my clients, life is the richest and most fertile if it moves, flows. This feeling is both fascinating and a little scary. I am at my best when I can let my experience carry me somewhere forward, towards goals that I still vaguely imagine. In this movement, in the flow of rich life experience that carries me, in trying to understand its changing complexity, it becomes clear that there is no place for something unchanging in it. When I am able to swim in this current in this way, it becomes clear to me that there can be neither a closed system of beliefs, nor an unchanging system of principles that I adhere to. Life is guided by the changing understanding and reflection of my experience. It is always in development, in formation.
Now it is clear to you why there is not a single philosophy, belief or principle that I can convince other people and force them to follow. I can only live through independent reflection on my current life experience and therefore I try to enable others to develop their own inner freedom and understand their own experiences that are meaningful to them …