Ruptures and Repairs: A Content-in-process
28 August 2024
Written assignment for The MIECAT Institute, Workplace Relationality module
Some images from my inquirers are intentionally left out for privacy.
I noticed a strange transformation … a poiesis of sorts that occurred during and after this unit. Initially it started as a very strong direction of where I wanted my inquiry to go…and as I reflected upon the content in process, I realised that my inquiry had slipped free and had taken on an existence of its own. I discovered that a relational presence is a dance between rupture and repair. The dynamic shifts between these two polarities are nuanced and speak (both verbally and as a sensation) of the sensitivities that are felt in a therapeutic relationship, that there could be an “I” to a “you” to an in-between that is an all-encompassing “us”. To better explicate, I shall highlight how patterns are played out, shifted, broken, and transformed through my relationship with others as an inquirer, a companion and as a witness.
In examining a relationship as an entity, impulses and habitual dispositions were spotlighted, creating a rupture from patterns of being in the world. On day 3 where we had to inquired into our relationship as an entity, I found myself floating away from the heft of clay to focusing on playing with superglue that clung to the grey pieces. Curious, I decided on amplifying my desires to tease and expand upon the niggling disjuncture of drying glue that dampened my sense of touch. Fingers pressed and pulled while my eyes and heart were mesmerised by the slivery shimmer of stretched glue. However, the playful mood soon shifted to frustration when the glue hardened to form a stiff web.
“How do you feel about the glue now?” My companion asks.
“I’m stuck, I don’t know how I feel about it…I feel, I feel, I feel… it doesn’t look as pretty. It looks dead. It feels dead.” I replied
Stephen K. Levine (2013) states that in the process of play and art-making, one’s improvisation often brings surprising and unforeseen results (p. 25). Likewise, my words, echoed back by my witness, came as a surprise as I have always thought of my inquiries as playfully light-hearted. I have come to know my habit of oscillating between feeling stuck and wanting freedom emerged through my companion and my witness.
While I was unable to put it into words at that point in time, there was a distinct and palpable projection of vulnerability as I tried to regain control by obsessively removing the glue from my fingers. I clawed and peeled away something akin to my own skin and, in the process, revealed my innermost vulnerability that presented itself as a lingering and wandering itch. My facilitator pointed out what she noticed as vulnerability, something which I was not aware of initially. The echoes of her comments alongside my witness’s observation encouraged me to acknowledge the discomforts that had emerged so as to step off into another direction. Just as how in looking back, one can see the path travelled so as to begin anew (Levine, 2013, p. 21)
In setting off a new point, I found myself discovering a third voice that arose through repair and attunement. Repair comes with a shade of many meanings. According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, Repararer speaks of a restoration, to heal, and to mend; there is also repairen where one arrives at a specific place …or even returns to it (“Repair (v.1)”, n.d.). This notion of journeying reflects an unfolding of the inquiry in a sort of circular time and space; where access points crisscross into the past, present, and even the future. In Meeting Another, I noticed my inquiry would lead me towards the tactile. Changing from cupping a ceramic dish that held my expression to taking it out and caressing it in my hands, a sense of intimacy bloomed in my chest as I felt the mass and textures on my expression. Additionally, dialoguing with it opened up a space where perspectives were elicited, multiplied, and mirrored by the questions and the comments from my companion. I was at once myself, my expression-friend, a companion, and a witness examining my thought processes and feelings through a crisscross of periscopic reflections as seen through how the conversation (both spoken and in thoughts) appeared spatially below:
How do you feel about Pearl disapproving your relationship?
Why am I trying to get my friend to do this?
Why haven’t you tried calling him?
I know Pearl wants the best for me as a friend, but I know what I want in life.
Through the many voices, I noticed a thought bubbling up and breaking the surface.
“I feel Pearl is too hard on me.”
The honesty came as a revelation. In the process of becoming another, one experiences a newly negotiated connectedness or a sort of enfolding within oneself (Cameron, 2016, p. 167). Being carefully reflexive by not speaking for my expression, I felt into the emotional space, that was facilitated through dialoguing, to find a mixture of loneliness and the desire to connect. These emerging sensation and values arrived along with the discovery of how a third voice was “more profound, powerful, complex, truthful, and exquisite than any single voice” (Mantas, 2007, p. 161). The relational presence – coming through as a third voice – allowed for understanding and empathy to take hold of one’s imagination. As a result, it expanded upon, and even deepened, my previous understanding of our relationship. Touched, I was moved to text my friend during a break.
The attunement of many perspectives also resulted in the creation of an all-encompassing space that goes well beyond the singular. In becoming whole, repair does not just involve the physical process of healing, but also an emotional and spiritual restoration from the connection fostered by the caregiver and the patient. Often times, it entails sensing into the emotional landscape that arises from their encounters and conversations.
Cameron (2016) states that the most accessible modes of communication cannot always be translated through words (p. 176). Likewise, I found myself dancing to the metallic clinks and clanks emanating from my inquirer’s chrome spheres. Bracketing out self-consciousness, I noticed that my hands and body were moving in a circular motion mirroring my inquirer’s. A dance of hands through sounds…and a meeting of bodies beyond the screen. These small movements framed to within a tight space evoked a sense of stuckness. I voiced out my observations.
“I noticed that you are making small movements…Perhaps, you would – I would like to invite you to make bigger movements
…”
“I –
I don’t feel like it” My inquirer replied.
I winched, feeling a fleeting worry, but breathed into it. I thought of Cameron (2016) and how she states that in the difficult moments of relating, one finds a place to acknowledge resilience and vulnerability (p. 156). Perhaps, that was also a moment where I caught myself struggling to find the best way to communicate without forcing my desires to structure the inquiry. That in the struggle to find form, voice and identity, there is an emergence of conflicts and dissonance (Cameron, 2016, p. 157). Similarly, the difficulty of connecting at that point in the inquiry, and my fear of not being good enough, had made itself known.
Breathing into the space, I let it expand to hold me, to hold us both. There was uncertainty as I tried to understand and connect with what was happening in this relational space. The small restrained movements felt like an access point and I was determined to catch it in order to move the inquiry a little deeper. I have sat with my discomforts before and know that I can do it again, this time more mindfully. Closing my eyes to ground myself a little more, my voice found itself speaking of phenomenological descriptions relating to the soundscape.
“Even though your movements are small, this resonance is expanding the space… It is expanding in the space as well.”
I stretched out my arms and made large circles with them as a gestural invitation to my inquirer to explore movement through sound instead of focusing on the body which my inquirer seemed uncomfortable with. After a momentary contemplation, my inquirer picked up a couple of Maracas and shook them. There was a break in the pattern of rolling spheres on the table away from her body to bringing her clenched fist closer to her chest.
“I feel…that…this is good.”
She replied as the shaker sings to the rhythm of her heart.
By attuning to the minute shifts in emotions and gestures, I came to know when to pull away and when to push the co-inquiry a little deeper. Ruptures were inevitable as there are bound to be differences and dissonance in a relationship. Yet, there were also opportunities for repair when one seeks a connection yet again. This could be seen through invitations where trust could be fostered, knowing that the inquiry was spacious enough for explorations while also having a mutually established sense of safety through either checking-in before, during, and after there is a landing. By doing so, I am helping to support my inquirer find a landing on their own.
Stepping away from the hierarchal, the relational ethics that structure our co-inquiry put the inquirer as the main focus allowing her to delve into emerging areas of interests within the perimeters of trust and safety. The focus had shifted from my value of being responsible of companioning to that of the other person’s process of exploring what was of value to her. Thus, reducing the pressure to structure and had blossomed into a co-inquiry where both of us contributed to the exploration. This came in the form of invitations, which carries with it an openness for acceptance or refusal, evokes a gentle generosity within the therapeutic relationship renforicng the sense of safety and trust. Levine (2013) states it best in describing the paradox of improvisation where that one has to “let go of certainty to find truth” p.27.
The co-inquiry into a space which enveloped whoever was present. There was a confluence of intersubjective connectivity even when I, as witness, was not immediately or directly involved. As our group shared our intersubjective responses, the companion and I realised that, despite not seeing what the other drew, came up with a similar looking image.
Mantas (2007) described that in the moment of wanting to know more, of attuning, and re-searching, there is a creation of a third space where the “self versus other” disappears (p. 161). In this case, the relational presence expanded to envelope everyone who was attuning to what was emerging emotionally. It was shared beyond the two… through the screen of a laptop. Perhaps, it might be precisely the screen which floods one with information and condenses what is of value all at the same time, that pushes one to fully tune in and sieve out what is of essence.
According to Warren Lett (2011), attuning is usually intuitive, and an embodied resonance which leads us through various mediums to bring us to meaning (p. 152). The accumulation of discomforts in my case was tapped into on the fourth day where the tensions felt between wanting and repressing erupted into a violent birth: I tore up an expression of myself. The process was unexpected as I thought it would break, however, I felt strength and resistance in the clay. Moved to repair it, I slathered glue over the cracks and patched it before noticing bubbles escaping and peeking out from behind the sequins. It seems to become alive…and I find myself arriving at the acknowledgement of my vulnerabilities and leaping off into another journey on the wings of my strength.
As witness, I also stepped into waters that were both familiar and unfamiliar, resulting in many moments of disjuncture and subsequent attempts at re-connecting. My imagination and feelings formed, broke down, and reformed again as I weaved between not knowing what it means to live in the bush alongside knowing what it feels to be alone, to be caught in an uncomfortable position. The moment of resonance came in the form of a “core” which the inquirer spoke of. She describes herself as both “strong and fragile” at the same time… and this spoke to me, and I noticed, us as a trio.
There was a resonance as we worked with materials that had centers : spheres, bowls, and a piece derived from an apple core. Through mutual attunement, we found ourselves enmeshed in the other, just like how our spheres have expanded, crossed into, folded upon and into each other. There was a circle of trust and safety fostered from many moments of rupture which was generously repaired. I found myself to be accepting of all my strengths and my limitations. I was an open receptacle…and also a satellite dish that caught, held, echoed and amplified the various tunes from our conversations.
On the last day, I made a Postcard synthesis of myself. This time the cracks appeared naturally. The surface with covered with marks made my nails and the colourful gleam of sequins skimmed over its skin. Through my expression, I have arrived at an understanding that content in process leads us to meaning, compassion, and generosity through rupture and repair.
Through the process of (re)creating a relational presence, there will be ruptures, differences, and dissonances and also many possibilities – and many ways – of connecting and repairing. There is no sense of a ‘mine’ or ‘yours’ with regards to who owes the therapeutic presence, but rather it is a much more compassionate one that is accessible by all. It might very well be that this connection is the third voice, that emerges, gently radiates and kindly embraces those who are in its presence.
Reference List
Cameron, N. (2016). Showings and tellings in being with everyday loss, (Book 8, pp. 155-177). In Excuse Me, Your Grief is Showing. Unpublished Professional Doctoral thesis: The Miecat Institute.
Lett, W. (2011). The experience of meaningful moments. An Inquiry into Making Sense of our Lives (pp.152-177). Rebus Press.
Levine, S. K. (2013). Expecting the unexpected: Improvisation in art-based research. In S. McNiff (Ed.), Art as research: Opportunities and challenges (pp. 125 - 132). Intellect.
Mantas, K. (2007). Meeting Mermaids: Co-creating images and process in inquiry. In j. G. Knowles, T. C. Luciani, A. L. Cole & L. Neilsen (Eds.). The Art of Visual inquiry (pp.153-166). Backalong Books.
Online Etymology Dictionary. (n.d.). Repair. In Repair: Search online etymology dictionary. https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=repair