When the Body Tells the Story

This blog is part 2 of a series. Note: the case example described in this blog (“MC”) is fictional and not based on any actual person or people.

MC, a fictional case example, leaves me a voicemail:

“Hey, Dr. Bradshaw. My wife, surprise surprise, has been telling me to go to therapy. I do have some things I want to work on. So let’s get started! Call me back, please.”

The tone is upbeat, bright, friendly. And yet, I hear breathlessness. Tightness. Sounds like he’s both naturally funny and trying hard.

In our first session, MC smiles wide in the doorway, pumps my hand. His eyes smile, and yet—there is often an “and yet” with us humans, isn’t there?—I see moisture forming.

His hand is soft. Grip firm but not aggressive.
With an upturned palm, I gesture toward a comfy sofa chair and a couch for him to choose from. Both face my chair—which is straighter, less cushioned, but still comfortable.

“Sofa all the way!” he says. He’s large in height and heft. He plops into the couch, folds his hands between his legs. His shoulders round forward, tense.

“I’m glad to be here with you, MC.”

“Thanks for seeing me so quickly.”

“Good we could work it out. What feels most important right now?”

“Well, the work stuff. I’m too (curse word) nice and I get taken advantage of constantly. I’m in management, and they overwork me. ‘No’ isn’t in my vocabulary. I adore my wife. I’m infatuated with her—even after 12 years. I know she won’t ever leave me, but I’m starting to disappoint her.”

I’m struck by the strong language. A lot to expand on. I pause. I’m feeling empathy. I let it grow and hopefully show in my expression. The pause heightens MC’s nervousness. He starts to speak, searches my face, stops, looks confused.

Then, he sighs. I notice the moisture return to his eyes. “Some emotion is coming,” I say, softly but assertively. He nods and looks away. His shoulders settle. I let mine settle, too.

“I’m noticing both our shoulders settled.”

“Yeah.”

He takes a deep breath. His voice softens. “I’m nervous all the time about what people think of me.”

“You worry a lot and try hard?”

“Oh yeah. I told myself I’d be honest today, but as soon as I started walking from the car, I knew I’d start trying to make you like me. I could feel myself wanting to quickly become your best client.”

“Do you feel that right now?”

“Not really. Getting it out—”

“Let’s pause the analyzing. Can we sit here a moment and breathe?”

“Okay.”

“I notice you looked away—”

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

“That’s totally okay. Please, look wherever feels right. Does it feel better to look away?”

“Yes, but then I feel like that’s not manly.”

“How does that register inside you?”

“Not really sure.” (Long pause). “It makes me feel small. Nervous.”

“Mmm. I’m with you. No judgement here.”

His shoulders round down and in. I invite him, gently, to go with that, if he’s comfortable. He does—nearly curls into a ball.

He says it feels safe. Comforting. Invite him to stay there a while.

His shoulders start to shift back, to open up. I ask if it’s time to come out.

He slowly comes out, sitting upright, shoulders back. I invite him to keep going and to get as large as possible.

It feels powerful—but now more exposed. He feels slightly nervous again, tempted to please, to joke. I invite him to try, briefly, to stay expanded and not joke or please me.

He wants to analyze what just happened. I encourage him to journal later. For now, I suggest we sit in silence and honor what he’s just done.

His posture is more natural now. His shoulders loose. He smiles down at his body and nods “yes.”

“I could be wrong, MC,” I say. “You seem both like a different person and like more yourself right now.”

"I do feel kinda' flowy. Like I can just be normal."

What’s Happening

I don’t overly analyze MC’s body expressions in session. I'm searching for the client's immediate, emotional, and even symbolic experience of their own body. It's more an intuitive sensing. I don't generally believe in formulaic, pre-decided meanings for body posture. I'm not proud of myself as a therapist when I "catch" a client's body movement. This isn't a game, and I'm not some genius picking the client apart.

The approach of noticing how a client carries their body in session, and being open to potential emotional poignancy being carried (so to speak) in the body, is emphasized in Gestalt therapy (Perls, 1979), Existential-Humanistic therapy (EH) (Schneider & Krug, 2017), Somatic Experiencing (SE) (Levine, 2010). Both Gestalt and SE approaches utilize the technique of suggesting a client either exaggerate, slow down, or speed up a movement they find themselves doing automatically in an emotionally charged moment in therapy. I will explore the reasons behind this intervention more in the next installment of this blog.

EH emphasizes a relational “here-and-now” focus when the client is willing and able to come into presence with an attuned, compassionate therapist (Schneider & Krug, 2017). EH therapists believe deep growth emerges in the experiential realm—“the immediate, the affective, the kinesthetic, and the profound” (Schneider, 2015).

I work to create a “holding” space of safety, sanctuary, and non-judgment. And yet, I also want to illuminate how MC is presently living his life, how he’s holding himself back, and yet how what he wants more of is trying to emerge.

By noticing the emotional and physical experience, we enter the unspoken process of living—helping clients consciously experience their raw existence and “illuminate” their inner battle.

Why? That will be explored in the next part of this series, where I’ll summarize later sessions with MC.

Constriction and expansion is one of the "paradoxical polarities" and one of the "givens of existence" (Schneider, 2015). We all must, at times, make ourselves small, hide, create a shell, retreat, restrict, be responsible to our own need for safety. And yet, we also want to go boldly forth, to expand, create, become more free.