November
2017
Between
Twig and String by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD
I like to
think of philosophy as that space between nature and artefact, in the
in-between of dream and critical thought and a sort of interior witnessing to
the very act of making sense of things. It is like the linking of shells with
twigs and string into an evocative yet skilful piece that remembers the sea,
the grasses and stories therein. Philosophy connects what we know about being
in the world with how we might think about this (a how that may be thought of
in multiple ways).
I am, by
nature and training, a philosopher and my work as a psychotherapist lends
itself well to this. The psychotherapeutic endeavour is a philosophic one, but
something with a practical outcome. It is a practical philosophy; a philosophy
for life.
Just as the
discipline of philosophy requires a sorting through, of this versus that, so
psychotherapy chooses the pathway of authenticity over falsehood: the path that
speaks most truly for the client. It is really nice to be part of this sorting
process, to be part of the conversation of what matters, and what doesn’t. I can, after all, suggest an experiment that
we find is not suitable in the end, for that particular person, but in there we
both discover what matters more right now and so we move on to thinking about
things quite differently. Philosophy and psychotherapy is thus less about dead
theory than a testing of a theory that
prompts a possible action that may, or may not,
have a useful outcome, but the process of which shifts our understanding and the formulation
of another theory that is itself open to question. A psychophilosophy is about
processes and testing and moving knowledge into new realms. It is, thus, not a
static thing; it lives.
The
psychophilosophical space is fluid, not fixed. This is a philosophy not of
logic and correctness, but messy, like living experience and existence itself.
In the end, the choices are those that give strength and meaning for this
individual, not some generalized theoretical self, but this living, breathing
person, here, now.
So many
disciplines come into play in this work: formal philosophy, sociology,
psychology, physiology and neurology, chemistry, creativity, art, stories, even
the mathematics of form and space, with that underlying philosophic turn. These
things go together to make something more unique and beautiful than ever.
This philosophy of existence is at the
heart of the kind of psychotherapy I’m interested in, that is, existential
psychotherapy. It is not about dark morbid things, though darkness may be
explored; it is not cerebral, though it thinks, and feels things through; it is
not particularly esoteric, through it sometimes examines and plays with that. The existential approach confronts the
"ultimate concerns" (Tillich) and everything in between: death,
endings and beginnings, consequences, freedom, loneliness, responsibility, suffering,
meaning and meaninglessness, connections, relationships, power, will, presence,
love and the irrepressible drive towards individuation, that is, the
realization of the Self.
Existential philosophy and its handmaiden,
existential psychotherapy is, as I say, practical, concrete, positive and
flexible. At its heart, it is not fearless, but it courageously journeys into
fear itself. There is a purpose here: this is a space of tremendous energy,
where transformation happens. Here is where the little bub of the new firebird of
alchemy is born. Being here is
supported by the presence of the therapist, who travels with the client all the
way, while still maintaining the sturdy string to ordinary life and
understanding.
It is no random accident that I call this
piece “Between Twig and String” for what I’m doing is attempting to describe the mysterious process
of therapy and philosophy itself, for both are art works in the making. Both
are intensely creative, and both are in process. For in as much a piece of
string links the found objects of shell, stone, and twig, so the making of this
simple piece engages the sight, the style, the inclination, the dexterity of
artist. And it is subject to time and decay, incorporation of other things,
anchored within a framework of sturdy string.
