- Email: [email protected]
Group play therapy with adults
The Arts in Psychotherapy, Vol. 27, No. 5, pp. 333–338, 2000 Copyright © 2000 Elsevier Science Ltd. Printed in the USA. All rights reserved 0197-4556/00/$–see front matter
PII S0197-4556(00)00073-36
GROUP PLAY THERAPY WITH ADULTS
KATHARINA S. BRUNER, MA, ATR*
sies whose presence in myself I dimly felt” (Jung, 1965, p. 174). He discovered in his building game “that play did not necessarily lead down the slope of memory to childishness, but rather led directly to the unfinished business of childhood” (Stewart, 1981, p. 32). Jung (1965) had the wisdom and courage to return to his childhood play which was the beginning of his own myth. That is what I had experienced in my play session, play, “as the dynamic aspect of fantasy, providing the function of equilibration between consciousness and unconsciousness” (Stewart, 1981, p. 30). The important recognition for me was that I as an adult could once again immerse myself in child’s play with the same seriousness as a child at play. Louis H. Stewart (1981) states that through this kind of adult playing, “The adult revives lost memories, releases unconscious fantasies, and in the course of time, constellates the images of reconciliation and wholeness of the individuation process” (Stewart, 1981, p. 36). The importance of play in the search for self has been recognized by others. For instance, D. Winnicott (1971) found that “It is in playing and only in playing that the individual child or adult is able to be creative and to use the whole personality, and it is only in being creative that the individual discovers the self” (p. 54). Winnicott (1971) not only recognized the importance of play for the patient in a therapeutic relationship, but stated that psychotherapy is done in the overlap of the two play areas, that of the patient and that of the therapist. If the therapist cannot play, then he or she is not suitable for the work. If the patient cannot play, then something needs to be done
Introduction The first time I experienced play therapy was as a graduate student participating in a course on Art Therapy for children. After only 20 minutes of playing with blocks it became apparent that I had played out some very important issues in my life. The play was spontaneous and intuitive, and the recognition of what I had done came only after I sat back and looked at it. This experience left a strong impression on me. As I examined what had happened to me in the process of play, I remembered what C. G. Jung (1965) wrote about his experience of deep disorientation and inner uncertainty after he had parted ways with Freud. He described how in his search to find his own footing, he first turned to his dreams, as he had done before. He had significant dreams and fantasies during that time, but saw that the dreams could not help him get over his feeling of disorientation. He finally said to himself, “Since I know nothing at all, I shall simply do whatever occurs to me.” (p. 173). The first thing that came to the surface for him were childhood memories of “playing passionately with building blocks”, memories which were accompanied by a good deal of emotion (Jung, 1965, p. 173). He said to himself, “There is still life in these things. The small boy is still around, and possesses a creative life which I lack. But how can I make my way to it?” (Jung, 1965, p. 174). He then described how he gathered stones and spent time every day with his building game. He experienced how “in the course of this activity my thoughts clarified, and I was able to grasp the fanta-
* Katharina S. Bruner is an art therapist in private practice. She can be reached by mail at 82 South Cedar Street, Oberlin, OH 44074-1561. [email protected]. 333
334
BRUNER
to enable the patient to play, after which psychotherapy may begin. The reason why playing is essential is that it is in playing that the patient is being creative. Play therapy has long been established as a very effective therapy for children and much has been written about it. Although the young child is unable to verbalize fears, family conflicts and anxieties, play provides a symbolic language that makes communication possible. As an art therapist I am very much aware of nonverbal communications. Just as art, music, and movement touch knowledge that is outside of our conscious awareness, so does play. Sandplay, as used primarily by Jungian therapists, comes closest to the play that I present here. In a sand tray a miniature world is created, symbolizing the person’s inner experience. It is an individual activity witnessed and processed by a therapist. In the play therapy I will describe, the play happens in a group setting where the individual play and the group interaction provide both the “picture of the individual’s inner scene” and the possibility for change as enacted with others. I was working at the time on the psychiatric unit of a small private midwestern hospital. The group of adult patients with whom I used play therapy were mostly going through a depression or stress due to a life crisis. They came from all walks of life. My use of play therapy began with one of my patients, a tall, shy man, who had been with me in art therapy for several weeks. His recurring images were of strong, immobile mountains with sharp snowcapped peaks, with soft floating clouds playing around those peaks. When he was asked to draw the interaction of the mountains and clouds, the clouds would produce thunderstorms behind the mountain, not affecting it at all. This might have been seen as great strength and also rigidity. He saw it as not being involved, and talked about how women in particular “did things to him” that he had no control over. His body posture too was rigid. Something was holding him back from actively entering into the process of living. He was very serious and did not know how to play. At this point in our work together I remembered my play session. I sensed that this could be of help to him and he agreed to give it a try. We sat on the floor together and emptied out a big box of colorful blocks of many shapes and sizes. He picked up four golden, cylindrical pillars, held them in his hands for a while and then built a box around them. This was a closed tight structure. The pillars were now invisible. I commented: “All this beautiful gold and no way to get to it.”
He tried to make openings, but closed them up quickly when the structure threatened to collapse. His facial expression was one of helplessness. The pillars, which I saw as symbolic of his goodness, self worth and life forces, were blocked in very much the same way as he was himself in life. I then suggested that we play blockhead, a very fast game in which players take turns piling one block on top of the other, without knocking the structure over. The blocks are all of different shapes. The trick is to place your block in such a precarious way that the opponent’s next block will topple the whole structure. We played this for a while. We laughed a lot, very much like two children having carefree fun. Then I invited him again to play on his own. This time he used the golden cylindrical blocks as pillars for an open palace-like building. They were both visible and functional and important in holding up his building. He looked up at me and smiled. There was no need for words. We both knew that something had changed in him. He left the session looking loose and more at ease. What happened to him after he left the hospital I don’t know. All I can say is that he spontaneously played out a new option. This is how I started to use play therapy at the hospital. Because most of the therapy on our unit was done in groups, I decided to try it in that context. Every new play session was a unique and wonderful experience. Much of what happens in play therapy creates itself in the interaction of the participants with the materials, each other and the therapist. I never cease to be amazed at the symbolic expression of the unconscious revealed through the play forms. I will next describe one such group play session in detail so as to share this process with you. The Group in Action The five women and one man who came to the play session had been together in an intensive inpatient unit for at least a week. They had worked in art and music therapy daily, in occupational and recreational therapy and in talk groups. They had all shared many very personal issues and supported each other in their efforts to make significant changes in their lives. At the end of the week I invited them to a play session. I emptied boxes of different shaped blocks, little animals, people, and toy furniture in the middle of the floor and asked them to sit around the toys and do whatever they wanted.
PLAY THERAPY S., a young woman, was very fast. She gathered up most of the long blocks before the others had even decided what to do. She built a very tall castle-like structure with a central gate, and a small enclosed “garage” (her words) attached on one side. On the other side of her gate she extended the wall in a semicircular form curving towards her. She sat behind this whole building. Finally she added towers with peaked roofs on the walls. S. described her building as strong, tall and open. One of the other group members saw it as majestic. What I saw was a facade, the front of a castle without the safe inner spaces to “back it up.” As S. looked around at the other buildings, she noticed that she was the only one in the group who had neither a person nor an animal in her building. As we processed this she took a little person and set her on top of the highest tower. She said: “I can see everything from there.” I remarked that she was now also visible to everyone. She thought nobody would see her because she was up so high, but another person said, “You are very visible and vulnerable.” This came as a surprise to her. She explored the advantages and disadvantages of being up so high, for instance, “Nobody can get to me, but also I can’t be close to anyone. They really would have to want to reach me very much to make the effort to climb up this tower.” By the end of the session she quietly placed her person on a block right in the middle of the gate. She said: “I figure if anyone wants to take the trouble to explore this complex place, then I am willing to let them in and be their guide.” Right next to S.’s tall building N. (another woman) had constructed a tiny house. It had four walls with one arched opening on one side and a gap on the other side. In it was the figure of a woman facing the arch. She had put very little effort into her building. When I asked her to describe her structure she said with excitement in her voice, “I just had an insight. I built my little house so close to the castle so that I could get some of its strength and power. That is my codependency.” “Ask the woman in the house what is going on with her,” I said. “The woman has two openings in her house. One is just a gap which can be closed any time, but the arched one is always open. There is just one problem with it—it is too low and every time the woman wants to go out she knocks her head against the top.” “How could she fix this?” I asked. “She could crawl under the arch.” That was all she
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could think of. Someone in the group suggested that she raise the arched door by putting little blocks under it. That worked. It is interesting to note here that it was the door that was always open that she was troubled about. I invited her to use as many of the blocks as she wanted to make any changes she liked. She built a larger house, placed the arch on blocks and put two more people next to her woman. She also moved the building farther away from the “castle.” She remarked: “I’m still codependent, you see, because I had to put more people in the house in order to be able to move away.” I encouraged her not to get stuck on the definition of herself as “codependent,” because there were many other ways to look at the meaning of adding more people to her life. I invited her to focus on the positive changes she had played out. M. (woman) had built a stage with steps to go up and had used many blocks of different shapes and colors to create, as she said, an interesting stage setting. On the stage was one little woman figure. The rows of blocks in front of the stage were the seats for the audience. In her other therapy sessions M. had identified her difficulty in communicating clearly, especially with her husband. In her play a woman was on stage ready to “perform.” “What would the woman on the stage like to tell the audience? What is her performance?” I asked. After some moments of silence M. stood up and sang “When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high.” I then invited M. to look at the stage from all sides. “The front of the stage is very decorative and interesting, and the back is very plain and uninteresting,” she said. “I faced the stage towards the center of the group so you would only see the front.” We explored what would happen if she showed all sides of herself. E., the only man in the group, had been quiet and withdrawn throughout the session. He built a tight enclosure (wall). In it were wild and domestic animals crowded together. “All of the animals are going to kill each other. The alligator is the only one who will survive. He is the strongest.” “What is it about the alligator that is so special?” “He is adaptable, he can live on land and on water.” E. said he was terribly afraid that he would never be normal again, that he would always “act crazy” (his words) unless he stayed on medication. He said he felt closed in and could not adapt. I referred him back to his play scene. The animals were still all alive, just very crowded. The killing had not happened yet.
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We worked together on finding the strength in his scene. The wall around the animals was strong, and even though the animals were all very different, in his play they were getting along. We also explored what he could learn from the alligator. P. had made three little towers of small blocks. The center one had a baby in a baby seat balanced on top. On one of the other towers she placed a little figure. Her comments were: “Everything here is balanced, and my life is not.” She said that “her buildings reminded her of the ruins in Mexico, where just some broken parts of the buildings are still standing and you don’t know what they really are.” P. made it clear that she was not ready for exploration of her play, so I did not press for further discussion. L., the last one to talk about her building, said that she had just built a very open structure facing into the circle. She had put sheep, pigs and a dog behind the building without any fences. “I just want them to be free.” One of the other group members remarked how empty and symmetrical this building looked. In her art work she had been able to be quite imaginative and colorful as long as she could first draw a very strong outline of her images. One time she had tried to see what would happen if she softened the outlines—the images had become very pale, almost fading away. It looked to me as if in her play she had done a similar thing. She had opened up her boundaries, her enclosure, and had let out the animals. The result was an “empty looking” place. Her emphasis was on “being free.” She was not able to focus on the emptiness at that point. Discussion In the play session I have just described, I focused attention on several things. First there was the recognition and exploration of each individual structure, its form, size and function. Each person described and explained their building and gave it personal meaning. Because this was done in the context of the group, just as the play had been done in the group setting, the participants saw their buildings in relationship or comparison to those of everyone else. Thus, it was that N. could recognize and concretely see her need to depend on the strength of another, and S. could get in touch with her isolation and defensiveness. By facing her stage into the circle and sitting behind it, M. could get in touch with her public bright self and her plainer hidden self. The group members
presented valuable input such as the suggestion to place N.’s open door on blocks so that she would not have to hit her head against it. In this group some members were ready to play out change while others were not. All of them could observe everything and know that change was possible. A play session with adults is a powerful and exciting experience. Each session is different, and yet there are similarities in all of them. Once people allow themselves to sit on the floor and engage in “child’s play,” they open themselves to experiences and expressions that are outside their awareness. The Child part of the person is given permission to be free, to play, to let go. The unconscious is tapped and finds concrete expression in the structures or scenes created. They are images of a person’s present situation and sense of self in relationship to others. Each scene shows both the problems and the strengths inherent in the creator. The play with blocks and other toys allows people to be masters over the situation for a while. They can build, tear down, change things around as S. and N. did. They can even destroy it all. This is a freedom people either think they don’t have or never allow themselves to take. In play a person can play out new options. For most people the pressure is off. After all, this is “kid stuff.” In many play sessions I have invited players to look around and change anything they wanted to in others’ structures. This might strike the reader as intrusive. However, that has not been my experience. Because everyone who wants to, gets a chance, and since anyone who does not like the changes made in their structure, can put it back the way it was, this part of the play is similar to feedback. The way it is done is through manipulation of toys, rather than words. I have seen significant changes played out. I have seen great caring and consideration develop between members of the group. I have seen a child’s delight in a person’s eyes after a play session. I have heard: “This was fun” or “I thought we were just going to play. I never expected to learn so much about myself.” In some sessions the participants got involved in complete dramas. As each person took their turn to make changes in their or others’ structures, another piece of the action was created. One time someone expressed his need to be in control by building a wall around all the structures. Others reacted by making openings in the wall. Finally someone tore it down completely. At another time a musician, who was experiencing a lot of stress in his job, depicted the performers on
PLAY THERAPY stage, the audience opposite them, and the conductor as a gorilla. When it was his turn to change whatever he wanted to, he tossed the gorilla (conductor) into the corner of the room and put the players in the audience’s seats and the audience on stage. “There, now you can experience what it feels like to be on stage.” Then he laughed heartily. I need to say something here about the issue of resistance. It has occasionally been my experience that someone finds it difficult to join in the play. It seems to be “beneath their dignity” to sit on the floor and play. For those people the alphabet blocks seem to provide a bridge from the “adult” to the “child” mode. After all, spelling out your name is an adult occupation. This transitional activity seems to be all that is needed for them then to engage in the play. One or two people have refused absolutely. The reason given was: “I was never allowed to play as a child and I won’t start now.” Or, “This stirs up too many painful childhood memories. I can’t do it.” These people also have been resistant to change generally. I think that here Winnicott’s (1971) comment, that a person first needs to learn to play before therapy is possible, rings true. At the time of their refusal I invited them to join me in observing the group at play. Later we explored what they needed in order to feel safe to play. In his introduction to the book Sandplay by Dora M. Kalff, Harold Stone (1970) writes about play in sand. What he says fits for my play sessions too: [This play] is just what the name implies. It is play in sand [with blocks], play in the critical sense of imaginative freedom and experimentation, fun, fear, everything else that goes to make up the imagination. For in the imagination is contained all the positive and the highest good; all the negative and deepest evil (p. 19). The play space, the group setting and the presence of the therapist provide the limitations, the boundaries, the container. This safety enhances the freedom to play. The therapist is an essential part of this experience. She sets the tone, provides the materials, defines the play space, and invites the imagination to flow. What Stone (1970) says about the sand play also applies to my experiences of group play: The sandbox [the blocks and toys] is not an instrument of magic. It is a tool, an extremely effective tool, for getting to the imagination and
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allowing it to become creative. But it is more than a tool. It is also an expression of the therapist, as a creative personality, who relates to patients both personally and symbolically at an extremely deep level. The symbolic evolution one observes in these cases does not just occur in a vacuum of the sandbox [play space] and therapy room. It occurs in the presence of Mrs. Kalff [the therapist] who provides a temenos, a receptive container, in which the deepest emotions and expressions of fantasy have a chance to manifest themselves and be received, appreciated, and understood. The unconscious knows a friend, and Mrs. Kalff [the therapist] is a friend to the unconscious as well as to the patient himself (p. 15). This expresses my experiences as therapist in a play group. It is a time of creativity, vulnerability, and movement. I experience a sense of awe at the ways in which the unconscious finds expression through the simplest materials. In a setting like our hospital, where people generally stay for a short period of time, the important issues become evident in just one play session. You get to the heart of the matter right away. That is one aspect that makes play therapy such a powerful tool. I have also had the experience of a series of play sessions with the same people. The play then becomes a direct expression of the changes that are taking place within each person. One such experience was with a man who used a black panther to express death and his intense suicidal wishes during the first play session he attended. In the second session, the panther became the symbol of protection guarding his fortress. In the third and final session, the panther became the symbol of life and hope, standing on top of the building. He asked to keep this panther, to take it home as a reminder of his struggle for life. This was the last session for two of the patients who had participated in three play sessions. One of them was the man mentioned above. We had worked intensively for weeks, both in art and in play therapy. Both patients had moved from a wish to kill themselves to new hope for life. In this last session we expressed the respect and love that had grown between us. In our therapy sessions we had been to hell and come back, renewed. Our play together was the final expression of this process. The structures we built were open and had extensions on either side
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which we connected spontaneously to form a triangle. We were together in our affirmation of life. References Jung, C. G. (1965) Memories, dreams, and reflections. New York: Vintage Books.
Stewart, L. H. (1981) “Play and Sandplay,” In Sandplay studies: Origins, theory and practice. San Francisco C.G. Jung Institute. Stone, H. (1980) Prologue to Dora M. Kalff, Sandplay: Psychotherapeutic approach to the psyche. Santa Monica, Sigo Press. Winnicott, D. W. (1971) Playing and reality. London and New York: Tavistock Publications.
PII S0197-4556(00)00073-36
GROUP PLAY THERAPY WITH ADULTS
KATHARINA S. BRUNER, MA, ATR*
sies whose presence in myself I dimly felt” (Jung, 1965, p. 174). He discovered in his building game “that play did not necessarily lead down the slope of memory to childishness, but rather led directly to the unfinished business of childhood” (Stewart, 1981, p. 32). Jung (1965) had the wisdom and courage to return to his childhood play which was the beginning of his own myth. That is what I had experienced in my play session, play, “as the dynamic aspect of fantasy, providing the function of equilibration between consciousness and unconsciousness” (Stewart, 1981, p. 30). The important recognition for me was that I as an adult could once again immerse myself in child’s play with the same seriousness as a child at play. Louis H. Stewart (1981) states that through this kind of adult playing, “The adult revives lost memories, releases unconscious fantasies, and in the course of time, constellates the images of reconciliation and wholeness of the individuation process” (Stewart, 1981, p. 36). The importance of play in the search for self has been recognized by others. For instance, D. Winnicott (1971) found that “It is in playing and only in playing that the individual child or adult is able to be creative and to use the whole personality, and it is only in being creative that the individual discovers the self” (p. 54). Winnicott (1971) not only recognized the importance of play for the patient in a therapeutic relationship, but stated that psychotherapy is done in the overlap of the two play areas, that of the patient and that of the therapist. If the therapist cannot play, then he or she is not suitable for the work. If the patient cannot play, then something needs to be done
Introduction The first time I experienced play therapy was as a graduate student participating in a course on Art Therapy for children. After only 20 minutes of playing with blocks it became apparent that I had played out some very important issues in my life. The play was spontaneous and intuitive, and the recognition of what I had done came only after I sat back and looked at it. This experience left a strong impression on me. As I examined what had happened to me in the process of play, I remembered what C. G. Jung (1965) wrote about his experience of deep disorientation and inner uncertainty after he had parted ways with Freud. He described how in his search to find his own footing, he first turned to his dreams, as he had done before. He had significant dreams and fantasies during that time, but saw that the dreams could not help him get over his feeling of disorientation. He finally said to himself, “Since I know nothing at all, I shall simply do whatever occurs to me.” (p. 173). The first thing that came to the surface for him were childhood memories of “playing passionately with building blocks”, memories which were accompanied by a good deal of emotion (Jung, 1965, p. 173). He said to himself, “There is still life in these things. The small boy is still around, and possesses a creative life which I lack. But how can I make my way to it?” (Jung, 1965, p. 174). He then described how he gathered stones and spent time every day with his building game. He experienced how “in the course of this activity my thoughts clarified, and I was able to grasp the fanta-
* Katharina S. Bruner is an art therapist in private practice. She can be reached by mail at 82 South Cedar Street, Oberlin, OH 44074-1561. [email protected]. 333
334
BRUNER
to enable the patient to play, after which psychotherapy may begin. The reason why playing is essential is that it is in playing that the patient is being creative. Play therapy has long been established as a very effective therapy for children and much has been written about it. Although the young child is unable to verbalize fears, family conflicts and anxieties, play provides a symbolic language that makes communication possible. As an art therapist I am very much aware of nonverbal communications. Just as art, music, and movement touch knowledge that is outside of our conscious awareness, so does play. Sandplay, as used primarily by Jungian therapists, comes closest to the play that I present here. In a sand tray a miniature world is created, symbolizing the person’s inner experience. It is an individual activity witnessed and processed by a therapist. In the play therapy I will describe, the play happens in a group setting where the individual play and the group interaction provide both the “picture of the individual’s inner scene” and the possibility for change as enacted with others. I was working at the time on the psychiatric unit of a small private midwestern hospital. The group of adult patients with whom I used play therapy were mostly going through a depression or stress due to a life crisis. They came from all walks of life. My use of play therapy began with one of my patients, a tall, shy man, who had been with me in art therapy for several weeks. His recurring images were of strong, immobile mountains with sharp snowcapped peaks, with soft floating clouds playing around those peaks. When he was asked to draw the interaction of the mountains and clouds, the clouds would produce thunderstorms behind the mountain, not affecting it at all. This might have been seen as great strength and also rigidity. He saw it as not being involved, and talked about how women in particular “did things to him” that he had no control over. His body posture too was rigid. Something was holding him back from actively entering into the process of living. He was very serious and did not know how to play. At this point in our work together I remembered my play session. I sensed that this could be of help to him and he agreed to give it a try. We sat on the floor together and emptied out a big box of colorful blocks of many shapes and sizes. He picked up four golden, cylindrical pillars, held them in his hands for a while and then built a box around them. This was a closed tight structure. The pillars were now invisible. I commented: “All this beautiful gold and no way to get to it.”
He tried to make openings, but closed them up quickly when the structure threatened to collapse. His facial expression was one of helplessness. The pillars, which I saw as symbolic of his goodness, self worth and life forces, were blocked in very much the same way as he was himself in life. I then suggested that we play blockhead, a very fast game in which players take turns piling one block on top of the other, without knocking the structure over. The blocks are all of different shapes. The trick is to place your block in such a precarious way that the opponent’s next block will topple the whole structure. We played this for a while. We laughed a lot, very much like two children having carefree fun. Then I invited him again to play on his own. This time he used the golden cylindrical blocks as pillars for an open palace-like building. They were both visible and functional and important in holding up his building. He looked up at me and smiled. There was no need for words. We both knew that something had changed in him. He left the session looking loose and more at ease. What happened to him after he left the hospital I don’t know. All I can say is that he spontaneously played out a new option. This is how I started to use play therapy at the hospital. Because most of the therapy on our unit was done in groups, I decided to try it in that context. Every new play session was a unique and wonderful experience. Much of what happens in play therapy creates itself in the interaction of the participants with the materials, each other and the therapist. I never cease to be amazed at the symbolic expression of the unconscious revealed through the play forms. I will next describe one such group play session in detail so as to share this process with you. The Group in Action The five women and one man who came to the play session had been together in an intensive inpatient unit for at least a week. They had worked in art and music therapy daily, in occupational and recreational therapy and in talk groups. They had all shared many very personal issues and supported each other in their efforts to make significant changes in their lives. At the end of the week I invited them to a play session. I emptied boxes of different shaped blocks, little animals, people, and toy furniture in the middle of the floor and asked them to sit around the toys and do whatever they wanted.
PLAY THERAPY S., a young woman, was very fast. She gathered up most of the long blocks before the others had even decided what to do. She built a very tall castle-like structure with a central gate, and a small enclosed “garage” (her words) attached on one side. On the other side of her gate she extended the wall in a semicircular form curving towards her. She sat behind this whole building. Finally she added towers with peaked roofs on the walls. S. described her building as strong, tall and open. One of the other group members saw it as majestic. What I saw was a facade, the front of a castle without the safe inner spaces to “back it up.” As S. looked around at the other buildings, she noticed that she was the only one in the group who had neither a person nor an animal in her building. As we processed this she took a little person and set her on top of the highest tower. She said: “I can see everything from there.” I remarked that she was now also visible to everyone. She thought nobody would see her because she was up so high, but another person said, “You are very visible and vulnerable.” This came as a surprise to her. She explored the advantages and disadvantages of being up so high, for instance, “Nobody can get to me, but also I can’t be close to anyone. They really would have to want to reach me very much to make the effort to climb up this tower.” By the end of the session she quietly placed her person on a block right in the middle of the gate. She said: “I figure if anyone wants to take the trouble to explore this complex place, then I am willing to let them in and be their guide.” Right next to S.’s tall building N. (another woman) had constructed a tiny house. It had four walls with one arched opening on one side and a gap on the other side. In it was the figure of a woman facing the arch. She had put very little effort into her building. When I asked her to describe her structure she said with excitement in her voice, “I just had an insight. I built my little house so close to the castle so that I could get some of its strength and power. That is my codependency.” “Ask the woman in the house what is going on with her,” I said. “The woman has two openings in her house. One is just a gap which can be closed any time, but the arched one is always open. There is just one problem with it—it is too low and every time the woman wants to go out she knocks her head against the top.” “How could she fix this?” I asked. “She could crawl under the arch.” That was all she
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could think of. Someone in the group suggested that she raise the arched door by putting little blocks under it. That worked. It is interesting to note here that it was the door that was always open that she was troubled about. I invited her to use as many of the blocks as she wanted to make any changes she liked. She built a larger house, placed the arch on blocks and put two more people next to her woman. She also moved the building farther away from the “castle.” She remarked: “I’m still codependent, you see, because I had to put more people in the house in order to be able to move away.” I encouraged her not to get stuck on the definition of herself as “codependent,” because there were many other ways to look at the meaning of adding more people to her life. I invited her to focus on the positive changes she had played out. M. (woman) had built a stage with steps to go up and had used many blocks of different shapes and colors to create, as she said, an interesting stage setting. On the stage was one little woman figure. The rows of blocks in front of the stage were the seats for the audience. In her other therapy sessions M. had identified her difficulty in communicating clearly, especially with her husband. In her play a woman was on stage ready to “perform.” “What would the woman on the stage like to tell the audience? What is her performance?” I asked. After some moments of silence M. stood up and sang “When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high.” I then invited M. to look at the stage from all sides. “The front of the stage is very decorative and interesting, and the back is very plain and uninteresting,” she said. “I faced the stage towards the center of the group so you would only see the front.” We explored what would happen if she showed all sides of herself. E., the only man in the group, had been quiet and withdrawn throughout the session. He built a tight enclosure (wall). In it were wild and domestic animals crowded together. “All of the animals are going to kill each other. The alligator is the only one who will survive. He is the strongest.” “What is it about the alligator that is so special?” “He is adaptable, he can live on land and on water.” E. said he was terribly afraid that he would never be normal again, that he would always “act crazy” (his words) unless he stayed on medication. He said he felt closed in and could not adapt. I referred him back to his play scene. The animals were still all alive, just very crowded. The killing had not happened yet.
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We worked together on finding the strength in his scene. The wall around the animals was strong, and even though the animals were all very different, in his play they were getting along. We also explored what he could learn from the alligator. P. had made three little towers of small blocks. The center one had a baby in a baby seat balanced on top. On one of the other towers she placed a little figure. Her comments were: “Everything here is balanced, and my life is not.” She said that “her buildings reminded her of the ruins in Mexico, where just some broken parts of the buildings are still standing and you don’t know what they really are.” P. made it clear that she was not ready for exploration of her play, so I did not press for further discussion. L., the last one to talk about her building, said that she had just built a very open structure facing into the circle. She had put sheep, pigs and a dog behind the building without any fences. “I just want them to be free.” One of the other group members remarked how empty and symmetrical this building looked. In her art work she had been able to be quite imaginative and colorful as long as she could first draw a very strong outline of her images. One time she had tried to see what would happen if she softened the outlines—the images had become very pale, almost fading away. It looked to me as if in her play she had done a similar thing. She had opened up her boundaries, her enclosure, and had let out the animals. The result was an “empty looking” place. Her emphasis was on “being free.” She was not able to focus on the emptiness at that point. Discussion In the play session I have just described, I focused attention on several things. First there was the recognition and exploration of each individual structure, its form, size and function. Each person described and explained their building and gave it personal meaning. Because this was done in the context of the group, just as the play had been done in the group setting, the participants saw their buildings in relationship or comparison to those of everyone else. Thus, it was that N. could recognize and concretely see her need to depend on the strength of another, and S. could get in touch with her isolation and defensiveness. By facing her stage into the circle and sitting behind it, M. could get in touch with her public bright self and her plainer hidden self. The group members
presented valuable input such as the suggestion to place N.’s open door on blocks so that she would not have to hit her head against it. In this group some members were ready to play out change while others were not. All of them could observe everything and know that change was possible. A play session with adults is a powerful and exciting experience. Each session is different, and yet there are similarities in all of them. Once people allow themselves to sit on the floor and engage in “child’s play,” they open themselves to experiences and expressions that are outside their awareness. The Child part of the person is given permission to be free, to play, to let go. The unconscious is tapped and finds concrete expression in the structures or scenes created. They are images of a person’s present situation and sense of self in relationship to others. Each scene shows both the problems and the strengths inherent in the creator. The play with blocks and other toys allows people to be masters over the situation for a while. They can build, tear down, change things around as S. and N. did. They can even destroy it all. This is a freedom people either think they don’t have or never allow themselves to take. In play a person can play out new options. For most people the pressure is off. After all, this is “kid stuff.” In many play sessions I have invited players to look around and change anything they wanted to in others’ structures. This might strike the reader as intrusive. However, that has not been my experience. Because everyone who wants to, gets a chance, and since anyone who does not like the changes made in their structure, can put it back the way it was, this part of the play is similar to feedback. The way it is done is through manipulation of toys, rather than words. I have seen significant changes played out. I have seen great caring and consideration develop between members of the group. I have seen a child’s delight in a person’s eyes after a play session. I have heard: “This was fun” or “I thought we were just going to play. I never expected to learn so much about myself.” In some sessions the participants got involved in complete dramas. As each person took their turn to make changes in their or others’ structures, another piece of the action was created. One time someone expressed his need to be in control by building a wall around all the structures. Others reacted by making openings in the wall. Finally someone tore it down completely. At another time a musician, who was experiencing a lot of stress in his job, depicted the performers on
PLAY THERAPY stage, the audience opposite them, and the conductor as a gorilla. When it was his turn to change whatever he wanted to, he tossed the gorilla (conductor) into the corner of the room and put the players in the audience’s seats and the audience on stage. “There, now you can experience what it feels like to be on stage.” Then he laughed heartily. I need to say something here about the issue of resistance. It has occasionally been my experience that someone finds it difficult to join in the play. It seems to be “beneath their dignity” to sit on the floor and play. For those people the alphabet blocks seem to provide a bridge from the “adult” to the “child” mode. After all, spelling out your name is an adult occupation. This transitional activity seems to be all that is needed for them then to engage in the play. One or two people have refused absolutely. The reason given was: “I was never allowed to play as a child and I won’t start now.” Or, “This stirs up too many painful childhood memories. I can’t do it.” These people also have been resistant to change generally. I think that here Winnicott’s (1971) comment, that a person first needs to learn to play before therapy is possible, rings true. At the time of their refusal I invited them to join me in observing the group at play. Later we explored what they needed in order to feel safe to play. In his introduction to the book Sandplay by Dora M. Kalff, Harold Stone (1970) writes about play in sand. What he says fits for my play sessions too: [This play] is just what the name implies. It is play in sand [with blocks], play in the critical sense of imaginative freedom and experimentation, fun, fear, everything else that goes to make up the imagination. For in the imagination is contained all the positive and the highest good; all the negative and deepest evil (p. 19). The play space, the group setting and the presence of the therapist provide the limitations, the boundaries, the container. This safety enhances the freedom to play. The therapist is an essential part of this experience. She sets the tone, provides the materials, defines the play space, and invites the imagination to flow. What Stone (1970) says about the sand play also applies to my experiences of group play: The sandbox [the blocks and toys] is not an instrument of magic. It is a tool, an extremely effective tool, for getting to the imagination and
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allowing it to become creative. But it is more than a tool. It is also an expression of the therapist, as a creative personality, who relates to patients both personally and symbolically at an extremely deep level. The symbolic evolution one observes in these cases does not just occur in a vacuum of the sandbox [play space] and therapy room. It occurs in the presence of Mrs. Kalff [the therapist] who provides a temenos, a receptive container, in which the deepest emotions and expressions of fantasy have a chance to manifest themselves and be received, appreciated, and understood. The unconscious knows a friend, and Mrs. Kalff [the therapist] is a friend to the unconscious as well as to the patient himself (p. 15). This expresses my experiences as therapist in a play group. It is a time of creativity, vulnerability, and movement. I experience a sense of awe at the ways in which the unconscious finds expression through the simplest materials. In a setting like our hospital, where people generally stay for a short period of time, the important issues become evident in just one play session. You get to the heart of the matter right away. That is one aspect that makes play therapy such a powerful tool. I have also had the experience of a series of play sessions with the same people. The play then becomes a direct expression of the changes that are taking place within each person. One such experience was with a man who used a black panther to express death and his intense suicidal wishes during the first play session he attended. In the second session, the panther became the symbol of protection guarding his fortress. In the third and final session, the panther became the symbol of life and hope, standing on top of the building. He asked to keep this panther, to take it home as a reminder of his struggle for life. This was the last session for two of the patients who had participated in three play sessions. One of them was the man mentioned above. We had worked intensively for weeks, both in art and in play therapy. Both patients had moved from a wish to kill themselves to new hope for life. In this last session we expressed the respect and love that had grown between us. In our therapy sessions we had been to hell and come back, renewed. Our play together was the final expression of this process. The structures we built were open and had extensions on either side
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which we connected spontaneously to form a triangle. We were together in our affirmation of life. References Jung, C. G. (1965) Memories, dreams, and reflections. New York: Vintage Books.
Stewart, L. H. (1981) “Play and Sandplay,” In Sandplay studies: Origins, theory and practice. San Francisco C.G. Jung Institute. Stone, H. (1980) Prologue to Dora M. Kalff, Sandplay: Psychotherapeutic approach to the psyche. Santa Monica, Sigo Press. Winnicott, D. W. (1971) Playing and reality. London and New York: Tavistock Publications.