ego is strengthened. When we examine the rear part of the body – the back and the spinal column – we look to see how rigid it is, and at the same time we take note of the condition of the front part of the body, which is directly connected with the individual’s emotional life. The rigidity of the spinal column reveals the patient’s inability to let themselves express their emotions. On the other hand, a collapsing spinal column reveals a tendency to cede control, to fall easily and to yield to one’s emotions. An individual whose spinal column is in such a state is governed by the childlike part of themselves and is afraid to assume the responsibilities expected of them.
The characterological tendency displayed by my young male patient C. D. was the tendency towards control, despite the fact that there was also a clear tendency to let himself collapse – a tendency to collapse, to seek support and yield to his emotions, to feel the joy of a child. These two tendencies, as Boadella has shown, are to be found in everyone and are always poles apart. This polarity presents itself as a kind of layering… The visible exterior is a poor concealment of the truth, the other pole, which is present in disguise; it can reveal, therefore, what lies underneath. Our character-structure, the defence we have built up in the particular form in which it appears in our body, reveals our real needs. The more strongly we refuse something, the more desperately we crave it. We refuse it on one level and plead for it on another. Thus, C. D. gave the appearance of being both physically and socially strong. In social terms, he appeared to be a very generous, giving person. Instead of taking from others, he would give unstintingly, thus concealing his real need, which was to take, to receive acceptance and love at any cost and, in bodily terms, to fall back on the support of others.
A little later, in the same therapy session with C. D., when he came to feel that I was really there for him, he connected with a former girlfriend of his:
I can see her face, yes, I can see her before me, larger than life. She tells me that she’s pregnant. The news makes my blood run cold. I’m in a fix… I want her but my parents don’t approve of her. And I want their approval. I love being with her, now she’s pregnant and I’m in a fix…
His body, from the waist upwards and particularly his back, was completely rigid. His legs, from the pelvis down, were ‘jigging about’ like those of a wooden puppet whose strings are being pulled quickly to and fro. I asked him to examine his feelings and he realised that he was feeling angry.
I feel angry, very angry because… why should they do this to me?
I asked him if he could identify who he was angry with and he replied immediately: With her, I’m angry with her; how could she do such a thing to me…?
Now he was like a car with its engine fully revved up but the brake pressed firmly down. He was almost hopping about on the spot. He knew what he wanted to do and, when I asked him what this was, he replied unequivocally:
I want to hit her… I want to hit her…
He did not lash out until I gave him the go-ahead to do so. The energy was there, ready to be released, but not in an uncontrolled manner…
I led him to a mattress with a pile of cushions. He knelt down and began hitting a large cushion and, to make it easier for him, I picked it up and held it in front of my chest. He kicked the mattress again and again and then, after the initial release of anger, he realised how he really felt: he realised that he was afraid. He was afraid of facing up to the situation, yet at the same time he could sense something new. He himself would like to keep the child. But his parents didn’t approve of the girl. So it couldn’t happen. The question of the child brought him face to face with his fear of being dependent: he would lose control. It was part of his character-structure, part of his neurosis.
Neurotic individuals fear dependence, just as they fear independence, depending on what pole they are at: if they are too grounded, they fear dependence; they have, we might say, a pathological obsession with independence. On the other hand, when the individual is relatively ungrounded, they display a fear of independence and an obsession with dependence. The ability to move between the two poles, depending on the circumstances, and to have practical experience of interdependence, is a sign of mental health. (With regard to interdependence, Western-type societies have a very negative effect on people’s mental health by placing a sick or pathological emphasis on the independence and self-sufficiency of the individual. In this way they create the illusion that man is an autonomous and self-sufficient being that can live independently of other ‘individuals’.)
The functional dependence of psychotherapy
In psychotherapy we create a form of functional dependence that enables the patient to receive, through our therapeutic relationship with them, whatever they were not given during their personal development, so that they can acquire a healthy interdependence. The aim is to empower them to know when to take the initiative and lead the way and when to follow others, without feeling inferior. In body psychotherapy when we speak of dependence, independence and interdependence, these are not merely mental constructs or concepts that we assimilate mentally. They are bodily processes, they are recorded in human beings purely on a cellular level and become evident in a patient’s muscle tone.
When we come for psychotherapy, we come burdened with our deficits. If our parents have not given us the type of support that enables us to feel that our feet are planted firmly on the ground, we will have the sensation that the ground is slipping away under our feet. The ground and our parents – more specifically, their bodies – play the same role. They give us the ground we need to stand on in our own way and in our own time, so that we can fall safely without fear of crashing to the ground and get up with confidence in ourselves. This is the ground we offer to our patients in body psychotherapy, in terms of space, time and bodily support– the support offered by the therapist’s body. Insecurity is also expressed in the muscle tone of a patient who trusts no-one: in order not to fall, they try to hold themselves up on their own. The result: excessive control, rigidity, overcompensation, taut muscles and in this last case, underneath, we often find weak muscle tone. It is the therapist’s job to help the patient break free from the bipolar cycle of rigidity and collapse. Therapists are well aware of this fact. The aim of therapy is to produce a mature and well-integrated individual who knows when to support others and when to be supported.
In the abovementioned case of the young man C. D., there was a tendency for fear and anger to alternate. In his body, he did indeed move between the two poles of rigidity and collapse. Intense muscle tone, a back as hard as stone, shallow breathing and trembling legs… My hand on his back gave him a sense of support, which enabled him to explore what he was experiencing in greater depth.
From fear and anger he eventually progressed to a feeling of satisfaction, but sadness as well. Sadness was an entirely healthy reaction and showed that the therapy was making good progress. He had broken free from the bipolar cycle and impasse of fear/anger. Sadness helped to give things a better grounding. His girlfriend assented to the abortion. He realised how sad he felt but he was unable to find any other solution. He felt relieved. Now he could see the doctor. He assured him that ‘everything had gone well’. There was his girlfriend coming out of the operating theatre. She was alright… The shivering began to recede. His body was more stable, though the hyperextension was still there. I believed, and this belief was eventually confirmed, that the whole posture of his body thinly disguised his greatest fear, which was his encounter with fear.
This fear was that of a child whose mother and father were not there when he had most needed them. It was the fear and shame of a child who was afraid his parents might forget to pick him up from school, who was afraid of being left on his own in his room for hours on end, who was afraid of bringing home an unsatisfactory school report, of being constantly criticised by his parents, of being scolded by them for the umpteenth time, of their not being there when he needed them for emotional support and to give him a hug. It was the fear of a child who had wanted them to be there with him,
