Paradox pervades our daily life, and yet we rarely acknowledge it/take it into account. To define it, a paradox is a statement that embodies two concepts that seem to contradict (even violate) each other but nonetheless are true.
For instance, creativity and destruction are inherent in our existence. We deconstruct the old to create the new, as in an artistic advancement. For example, at the beginning of the twentieth century, the Spanish painter and sculptor Pablo Picasso broke the former rules to create his new art forms, and the Russian composer Igor Stravinsky transformed the realm of music in his novel composition, “Rite of Spring.”
In a recent uplifting movie, “A Man Called Otto,” a paradoxical transformation occurs. Otto, a troubled soul determined to be nasty at every chance he gets, grumbles and growls at people and animals. Nothing pleases him. He resolves to end his miserable life, but each attempt he makes is interrupted by some amusing event that summons him back to living. A charming Hispanic neighbor named Marisol moves across the street and appeals to him for help in several ways. She, in turn, is a very giving person who clearly grasps the give and take of human relationships.
The dynamics between her and Otto are especially delightful to me, because I had to learn this vital equation in early adulthood. As the oldest of five children, born to a gifted but overwhelmed mother (the seismologist Ruth B. Simon), I perceived myself as mom’s helper, as a giver. But my mind blocked out the other side of the equation, that I was also a receiver of care.
In the relationship with Marisol, Otto is transformed. Ironically, he changes from the most self-absorbed, nasty individual to the most giving. (I won’t spoil the movie by revealing the end which is also a paradox, a mixed message of loss and gain.)
The film helps to introduce the subject of paradox in the process of psychotherapy. In psychotherapy, we study the evolution of human relationships that are uprooted/destroyed in the hopes of uncovering new or modified perceptions.
Like an artistic endeavor, it is a creative process. We are molding a different self, and actually if we tune in to our daily happenings to examine our responses/reactions to them, we open the possibility for reframing our perceptions and ourselves. For example, as a client raged about how his family stunted his psychological development, he remembered that they sent him to a good college, an experience that greatly expanded his knowledge of the world. He began to realize that, although his parents had damaged him, they had also nurtured him.
Juxtaposing the two sides of reality is a creative act. The opposite psychological process, or “splitting,” involves seeing the world as all “good” or all “bad.” Splitting is like traveling through a narrow tunnel in which the only source of light is straight ahead. Alternatively, when we are able to juxtapose the negative and positive in relationships and situations, we see the complexity and expansiveness, similar to crossing a bridge when we are surrounded by light from all directions. Clearly, the view from the bridge offers a greater perspective of the world than traveling through a narrow tunnel.
Conclusion: As a creative act, the psychotherapeutic process breaks down some aspects of our former self to create (or mold) one that perceives our relationships and our world with greater understanding.
Dear Reader, I welcome your comments: jsimon145@gmail.com
Jane Simon, M.D.
No comments:
Post a Comment