This paper was published in the journal Murmurations: Journal of Transformative Systemic Practice in a special issue dedicated to Creative Writing by and for Systemic Practitioners.

Exegesis

By being both self-reflexive and relationally reflexive, my research addresses the question of how the relational space between client and therapist interconnects with the relational space within the therapist, thus creating “relational ripples” in the therapy room (Karamatsouki, 2020).

My interest in the area emerged as in my practice I observed that when I bring more of myself in the therapy room, more of the client is in there, too. In order to study the complex encounter in the therapy room I used autoethnography through storywriting. Autoethnography, “an autobiographical genre of writing and research that displays multiple layers of consciousness” (Ellis, 2004, p. 37), gives access to research material from an insider’s perspective. I use stories from practice in a literary style and in an ethical manner, where the focus is neither on the therapy techniques nor on the client’s difficulties. Instead, the focus is on the relational conversation between my client and me, as well as my inner dialogue and thoughts and feelings.

What follows in a story from within practice which appears inmy doctoral thesis (Karamatsouki, 2020) and shows the relational flow of the therapeutic process and the creation of relational ripples. In a way, what I am trying to do is expand systemic thinking by bringing to the fore the relational space within myself as a therapist and create a professionally employable space for the personal.

In the relational space between my client and myself lies the invitation from Michael to enter into his world, to speak of something that is yet uncertain (St. Pierre, 2013). In the complexity of the situation this invitation creates a new dialogue, whereby the client feels able to sustain difficult conversations (Oliver, 2014). In parallel, in the role of the therapist, I stay attuned to the conversation and keep the flow of the session. In this way, the relational space between us is changing and another form of living relationship is emerging. In future sessions, this episode, which has its own identity, might again enter the relational space between us and transform it, as the therapy process unfolds (Hein, 2016).

“What if we could be friends?”

“There is another thing that I have been thinking about these last few days. Do we have some time to discuss it now?” asks Michael, as our session approaches the end.

I glance at the clock. There are ten minutes left; I wonder what the issue is and whether ten minutes will be enough time to address it. The session has been intense, as he was describing a week of quarrellingwith his wife. Will it be a good thing for him to open up another issue now? On the other hand, maybe he needs to get it off his chest. I have to make a quick decision.

“We have about ten minutes,” I say. “I am thinking that you can tell me what this is about and if we don’t have enough time to address it properly, we will discuss it first thing in our next session. What do you think?”

“Sounds OK. Well, here it is. Before I started psychotherapy, I was not comfortable showing my feelings to people. I was kind of… How should I put it? I was cold and aloof,” he says.

I think back to the first time I met Michael. He was wearing a shirt buttoned up to the collar, he sat with a straight back on my office couch, and I had the feeling that he was trying to maintain a protective distance between us. He had come at the suggestion –or rather the insistence -of his wife, who was in therapy with a colleague of mine. My colleague, who had called me to make the referral, mentioned that they had issues as a couple.

“Since we started working together,” Michael continues, unaware of my thoughts, “I think I am more in touch with my feelings. And it occurred to me that you are one of the very few people that I can talk freely to about anything. In a sense, you know me better than… well, anyone else.”

I nod empathically. That’s how psychotherapy works, I think, but where is he going with this? I notice in my body that I have a feeling of anxiety: I’m holding my breath, my heart is beating faster, and I’m clenching my left fist. I take another quick glance at the clock;there is still time, but I hope it wasn’t a bad idea to let him open up this issue.

“Thinking about that,” Michael goes on, “I realised that I know almost nothing about you. I mean… I am asking you if you are OK and I am hoping that you know that it is out of genuine interest and not just to ask.”

He paused, as if trying to figure out my reaction. I take the opportunity to respond.

“What you are describing is a usual process in psychotherapy,” I say. “It’s true that the therapeutic relationship becomes very important because there is trust between us, so that you can tell me whatever is troubling you, when sometimes you can’t even tell your loved ones. And it feels like a close relationship. But there is a reason why our therapeutic relationship is unbalanced and we don’t talk about me. This is yourtherapy hour,” I say with emphasis. “This is the time and place for you and I am here to help you make the changes you want to make in your life.”