YOU CAN NEVER STEP INTO THE SAME RIVER TWICE
Collaborative and Dialogic Practices in Therapy and
Social Change:
Honoring the Past and Creating the Future Conference
April 22,
2010
Harlene Anderson, Ph.D.
You can
never step into the same river twice, the river is not the same and the man is
not the same.
Heraclitus
We are here in this small piece of paradise
for three days, and with us in this space are the ancestors, ghosts and spirits
of our colleagues that Dan Wulff gifted us with in his "honoring" presentation:
Tom Andersen, Insoo Kim-Berg, Gianfranco Cecchin, Steve De Shazer, Harry
Goolishian, Paul Watzlawick and Michael White. They are here with us
"sitting on the edge." Sitting on the edge of a move from the
classical world view of formulating theories
to understand human beings, their lives and their behaviors as categories,
types and kinds, of inherited often invisible, taken-for-granted knowledge that
is centralized, fixed, discoverable and re-discoverable,
and of distant, dualistic, hierarchical relationships and static structures.
Together, we are sitting on the edge of a
move to a world view of understanding human systems (singular and plural) and
their lives and behaviors, as unique, active, engaged participants in the
construction of knowledge that has local relevance and fluidity. This
alternative perspective and attitude about our world and the people who inhabit
it is a theme that runs through the works of those we honoring and ours. Each,
regardless of what they called their work-conversational, dialogical,
narrative, solution-focused, collaborative, reflecting or open-dialogue--was
impacted and inspired by the clusters of ideas that make up this alternative
perspective.
Time today does not permit a comprehensive
description of this different world view and its influence. Nor is it possible
to portray the evolution of the clusters of ideas and practices influenced by
it. Regardless of the authors'
discipline, each is a critical theorist and part of an irreverent movement. I
will highlight a few of their ideas and what they called our attention to,
keeping in mind that none of the ideas stand alone.
It was Ludwig Wittgenstein, among others, who
called our attention to a different way of understanding "language."
In his words: "Let the use of words teach you their meaning." "A
picture held us captive and we could not get outside it, for it lay in our
language and language seemed to repeat it to us inexorably."
It was Hans George Gadamer, among others, who
called our attention to a different way of understanding
"understanding" as participatory process that does not mean agreement
and that is filled with uncertainty. In
Gadamer's words: "To reach an understanding in dialogue is not merely a
matter of putting oneself forward and successfully asserting one's point of
view, but being transformed into a communion in which we do not remain what we
were." "Understanding, like action, always remains a risk . . . .
Understanding is an adventure and, like any other adventure is dangerous."
In was Heidegger who called our attention to
the connection between language and changes. In Heidegger's words,
"Changes in the world necessitate changes in language, and changes in
language affect what we are able to grasp about the world [and how we grasp it]
. . . . By searching for new ways to speak about new situations and
experiences, language develops."
It was Mikhail Bakhtin who called our
attention to a new way of understanding language and words, and their
relationship. In his words, the use of language is "always individual and
contextualized in nature." And although a word is an "Expression of
some evaluative position of an individual person" that person cannot
determine how that word affects another person, what it expresses for that
person.
It was Maurice Merleau Ponty, among others,
who called our attention to the role of perception in our understanding of and
relating in the worlds in which we live.
It was Giambattista Vico, Heinz von Foerster
and Humberto Maturana, among others who called our attention to the notion that
we are always wearing multiple interpretive lenses and the notion of observing
systems. The "observer is part of
the description" (Vico); "Everything said is said by an observer to
another observer" (Maturana); and "Believing is seeing" (von
Foerster). It was Jean-Francios Lyotard who called our attention to the
seduction of grand narratives. He challenged that there are, in his words,
"no grand narratives of legitimation" "Confrontation of the
notion of meta-narratives as privileging and oppressing"
It was Michel Foucault who called our
attention to the not-so-invisible and often invisible power discrepancies that
inherit our language, our words, our relationships and our societies. Words
have, he suggests, "hidden mechanisms of coercion and predefinition of
relationships of power" It was Jacques Derrida and his interest in
deconstructing philosophical texts who called our attention to its importance,
along with the notion of decentering the
subject, in our practices.
All of our ideas and practices, of course,
have been influenced by the myriad of contributions of Gregory Bateson. One of
my favorite Bateson quotes is "To entertain the new and the novel, there
must be room for the familiar." I have translated this to say, in my words,
"in order for there to be room for me--my presence and my voice--there
must first be room for yours."
More recently Lynn Hoffman and Christopher
Kinman have called our attention to the "rhizome" metaphor of Gilles
Deleuze and Felix Guattari to describe the growth and transformation of
ideas-the propagation and expansion of
ideas and practices including the surprise as to the form they take and where
they pop up. Applying this rhizome (and nomadic) notion to the development and
hence evolution of the works of the authors quoted, editor Christopher Norris (1989)
suggests that they "impose no fixed and sedentary boundaries on a
territory [e.g., of ideas and ensuing practices], but occupy a space to the
extent of their capabilities and then move
on. . . . Gradually they become less recognizable, more sprawling, and
occasionally surreal." They become, he continues, "A difference
differentiating itself, like a theme in the Vinteuil sonata in Proust, which
returns, [and now in the words of Deleuze] 'but each time changed, in a
different rhythm, with a different accompaniment, the same and yet other, as
things return in life'." (1989, p. 11) Discussing not only the influence
of Deleuze and Guattari but other
critical theorists as well, Norris (1989) suggests that their cumulative works
are "typically many years ahead of the academic disciplines and teaching
disciplines that have obvious reasons of their own for preserving the status quo." This
conference attests that the rhizome effect has helped keep these ideas alive
and living in our practices.