Erin's response, Gendlin

[Anonymous]

#710

Reading through Gendlin’s section on psychotherapy led me to think about moments of my own reflective silences, moments that didn’t quite bring the words necessary. It’s odd, because there are so many times during my drafting process at which point I include exactly what Gendlin used as the symbol for a moment of pause or non-recognition: “….” I include that in my drafts when I know something should be there – I can feel it; I’m just not sure what yet. I know I’ll return to it; but for the moment, I can’t find the thought or the words. But I am okay with that. I think about my students, and for them… that unknowing or pausing is not an okay experience. I’ve been trying to ask my students to hand in “working drafts” rather than “first drafts,” with the idea being that they allow me to see those moments of pausing, those “……” Some students have grown comfortable enough, by this point in the semester, to hand in initial drafts that are nicely messy and that show their pauses via notes, ellipses, etc. Others however, would rather turn in a late draft than show me those moments of “….”

The section also reminded me of poems by one of my favorite poets, Alice Fulton. (Moving on to Gendlin’s next section on poetry, that was rather fitting.) Fulton plays around with silences in her work via the use of an invented glyph, what she terms “the bride sign,” a symbol that looks like a double equal sign – “= =”. When I was introduced to her work in a class some time ago, we often wondered how she would handle reading the symbol aloud. We all agreed that the sign deserved some sort of bodily gesture, as it was so important for us in our readings of the poem. But after watching this clip of Fulton reading “Immersion” (from her amazing book, Sensual Math) at Colgate, I see the she leaves the sign silent: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTfNHhy5cm8#t=1055 (I’m sincerely hoping that link takes you to the correct moment in the video; if not, skip to 17:35 and stop at 22:52 or so.) I’m not sure what to make of that. I’ve grown so attached as a reader to viewing the = = as holding something more, that to see it otherwise now is… odd.

I also continue to be struck by Gendlin’s idea of “plant bodies,” as I was last week when reading through Lavender’s piece. Fulton again comes to mind, via her book “Felt.” Although the title refers to the type of fabric rather than the past tense of “feeling” (Fulton writes about textiles often – lace, felt, etc.), the collection makes connections between humans and other beings in nature – animals, plants. We’re all intertwined in strange ways.

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