Bengaluru Workshop, Reflections from Participants: 3

When I first came to know about the ‘Group Analytic Introductory weekend’, the only word I registered was ‘Group’. None of the articles I read, or the people I met or the discussions we had in the organization about Group Analysis seemed to have worked. I was still as anxious as I could ever be. Even though I knew that the weekend is going to happen, the facilitators have been decided etc. etc. It never got real for me. I was one of last persons to register for the course. It seemed something quite external to my so called personal internal chaos. A month before the course and I was still unsure. I couldn’t understand why I was so unsure, as Psychoanalysis is one of the reasons I’m in this profession and training to be a group analyst is in itself a dream come true. But nothing seemed to work, my head had justified it all and some way or the other I was just not able to accept that it’s happening until the day came.

We reached the venue and it was breathtaking. I felt at peace. We met Farhad and in my head the image I had was not at all matching the person I was looking at. We chose the rooms and moved on. Groups always scared me, to the extent that I could only find my comfort zone outside the group. But I was always part of groups; at least that’s how people saw me. During the introductions I made it clear to the large group that I’m not a group person, I’m only doing this to test the waters, I’m an introvert, so don’t expect anything from me. The only one expectation I had of me was to be honest and open. Those two days were one of the most crucial days of my life and will be the most crucial days of my life. Groups are magical and brutal at the same time. You don’t realize it until you are in it and then out of it and then again in it. For me it all happened in those moments of nothingness and emptiness, small group 1- let’s be little social and do the testing, small group 2 – lets dissociate and detach, be angry and act out, small group 3 – test the group again while acknowledging my need to relate/connect, large group 1 – show the world that I can belong and how comforting that feels, small group 4 – be angry again because it’s going to end and yet feel attached, small group 5 – let it all flow, large group 2 – the end to a new beginning. Never in my life I felt so much, never in my life cried so much and never in my life could I accept this side of myself. The experience was of acceptance, acceptance from me to me, and the permission to just be and not question myself all the time. The phantasy of being an extroverted person in groups who knows it all and has sorted her shit was broken, shattered into pieces constantly. I got the privilege to break down among people who understood human experiences and allowed me to feel human. Those two days gave me the chance to look at myself with the lens of imperfections, mess, chaos and flaws amidst strangers. And that was it for me. It was not about acknowledgement for me, I am quite aware of my imperfections and could easily owe up to it after having my own process in isolation, after sorting it out in my head in isolation. But this was about exposing my process and then owing up to it. I never knew that I could have all my emotions and still feel accepted by the world. The rage I have been feeling for so many years found a container for a while. It could trust the container and be itself. It could accept that the container is not permanent but the experience can be permanent if you allow it to be.

I recognized myself not only as a member of the group but also as one of the constructors of the group. The sense of belongingness was beyond what I can write or express. It was such a beautiful and personal experience that no words, no actions will ever justify its essence. ‘It’ belonged to those two days and I have carried it internally with me since then. What is that ‘it’? Like I said, it’s the experience. And as humans we tend to not believe in experience much, we prefer facts over experiences. We reject the experience. And though I have some of that experience, even when I’m writing I’m questioning my experience. Was it actually so great? Are you sure? Are you making it up in your head? I don’t have these answers and neither am I looking for these answers. It’s the experience of the unconscious minds, which is difficult to put in words.

Ishani Badyal