Rudzki: And what about you?
Kaim: Not good. I can feel him staring at my back. I want to turn round. Or get away. I can feel pressure on my neck, just as if someone were holding me on a leash.
Jarczyk: Yes, I feel the same way. Or like I’ve been put in the corner as a punishment. I feel bad. I feel guilty.
Telak: I’d like to go up to them.
Kaim: May I turn round?
Rudzki: Not yet. (To Telak) Please go up to your parents and stand behind them.
Telak stands just behind Kaim and Jarczyk.
Rudzki (to Telak): How do you feel now?
Telak: Better, much better. This is how I wanted it.
Kaim (with an effort): But I find this unbearable. I’ve got the wall in front of me and my son behind me. I don’t know why he came here, but I don’t want him here. Christ, I can hardly keep upright. I’m suffocating. Please let me move away, or get him out of here.
Rudzki: Just a little longer.
The therapist stopped the tape. The image of Telak standing behind his “parents” froze on the screen. Szacki looked at him in amazement.
“Is it a sort of theatre?” he asked. “Have they been given a script in advance telling them how to behave?”
Rudzki shook his head.
“No, and what’s more they hardly know a thing about Mr Telak. They don’t know that he ran away from home, they don’t know that his parents died in a tragic accident and that he never got the chance to say goodbye to them. Nothing. You see, essentially this form of therapy is extremely simple, if we compare it for example with psychoanalysis, which to my mind is usually totally ineffective in any case.”
Szacki gestured to interrupt him.
“Please, one thing at a time,” he said.
“All right. You apply for Family Constellation Therapy because you’re having a tough time, things are really bad and difficult, but you don’t know why. You tell a few facts about yourself - your parents, siblings, wife, children, first wife, father’s first wife, etc. All the people in your family are important, alive or dead. And then you arrange them spatially. You take each of them by the hand, lead them to the right spot and show them which way to face. You’ll be surprised to hear it, but people often see what’s wrong right at that very moment, and why they feel so bad. For example, because their wife is standing where their mother ought to be. Or because their child is keeping them apart from their wife. In short, because the right order has been disturbed. You only have to arrange them correctly and the patient comes out of the therapy a different person. In just five minutes.”
“Why does Kaim say he’s suffocating and about to faint?”
“Because the representatives can feel the emotions of the people they’re replacing.”
“But Telak’s parents died years ago.”
“Including the dead.”
“I see. And I suppose at the end you have to dance naked round a bonfire wearing a wooden mask?”
Rudzki fell silent, plainly offended by the prosecutor’s comment. Szacki noticed and apologized.
“I can understand your attitude a bit - I was very sceptical at first too,” said Rudzki in his defence. “I thought the patient must somehow be broadcasting his own emotions and programming them into the representatives. But very often during constellations family secrets come to light that the patient had no idea about.”
“For example?”
“For example, Bert Hellinger himself, who created this method, once arranged a thirty-five-year-old Swede who was suffering from autism. The man kept stubbornly staring at his own hands, which usually means—”
“Murder.”
“How did you know?”
“Lady Macbeth.”
“Exactly. Staring at the ground means a grave, someone who has died, and examining your own hands or a hand-washing gesture means killing. Gestures like these are typical of people suffering from autism and people who stammer. Both conditions have lots of common features, and one of them is the fact that during constellation therapy the source of the illness often turns out to be a murder. But to go back to the Swede: Hellinger knew from an interview with the family that his grandmother had had an affair with a sailor, and that the sailor had murdered her. So Hellinger introduced the grandmother and the grandfather into the constellation. And the person representing the grandfather started staring at his hands in an identical way. What do we conclude from that?”
“He was the murderer, not the sailor.”
“Exactly. Something came to light that no one in the family had a clue about. The grandfather had been dead for years, but the crime he had committed, the monstrous, unexpiated guilt, was the cause of the grandson’s autism.”
Szacki’s head was starting to ache. He’d have to buy a book to understand it all. He’d also have to find an expert to give an opinion on the video.
“I understand,” he said, rubbing his temples, “but that was an extreme case. What’s going on here?” he asked, pointing at the television screen.
“Leaving the family is interpreted within the system as a serious transgression,” explained Rudzki. “Henryk felt incredibly guilty as a result. He also felt guilty because he hadn’t said goodbye to his parents. And if there’s a sense of guilt, there’s no mourning. A sense of guilt connects us very strongly with the deceased, and as a result we refuse to let them go. Are you familiar with the phases of mourning?”
Szacki searched his memory.
“Disbelief, despair, organizing, adapting?”
The therapist looked at him in amazement.
“You’re right. However, in reality many people stop at the second phase - despair, which no one understands and which turns into loneliness. And this uncompleted mourning remains within the family, causing each successive generation to be connected with death. Please look at what’s happening. Henryk wants to go after his parents, but they don’t want that. Their place is in the world of the dead, and his is in the world of the living. Let’s watch some more.”
Rudzki (to Telak): I know you want to stand here, but that’s not the right place for you. Please go back to the middle of the room.
Telak goes back.
Kaim: What a relief…
Telak: Please turn around now.
Kaim and Jarczyk turn round.
Jarczyk: That’s much better. I’m glad I can see my son.
Kaim: So am I.
Rudzki (to Telak): What about you?
Telak: I’m glad they’re looking at me, and that they’re with me. But I’d like to go to them.
Rudzki: That’s impossible. We’ll do it another way.
Rudzki goes up to Kaim and Jarczyk, leads them over to Telak and positions them slightly to one side, behind him.
Kaim: That’s perfect. I can see my son, but I’m not obstructing him. I’m not standing in his way.
Jarczyk: It warms my heart. I’d like to hug him, tell him I love him and wish him all the very best.
Rudzki: Wait a moment. (To Telak) Do you feel better too?
Telak: It’s easier, but there’s still something missing.
Rudzki: The resolution, but we’ll do that later.
“What sort of resolution?” asked Szacki, and the therapist stopped the film. “I was wondering earlier what all this is leading to. What does it take to reach exoneration?”
Instead of answering Rudzki started to cough violently and ran to the bathroom, from where sounds of hawking and spitting were audible for quite a time until he came back, red in the face.
“I think I’ve got tonsillitis,” he croaked. “Would you like some tea?”
Szacki said he’d love some. Neither of them broke the silence until they were sitting beside each other again with steaming mugs of tea. Rudzki squeezed the juice of an entire lemon into his mug, then stirred in a lot of honey.
“Best thing for a sore throat,” he said, taking a sip. “The resolution involves uttering so-called resolving sentences that the therapist tells the patient and the people represent
ing his family to say. In this case I think Henryk’s parents would have said: ‘My son, we’re going away, and you’re staying behind. We love you and we’re happy you’re here.’ Whereas Henryk would have said: ‘I’m letting you go. I’m staying here. Think well of me.’ Perhaps. It’s hard to tell - the resolving sentences usually appear in my head when the right moment comes along.”
“And this wasn’t the right moment?”
“No. I wanted to leave it to the end. Any more questions?”
Szacki said no.
Rudzki: Good. Now let’s replace Mr Telak’s family with chairs. (He moves Jarczyk and Kaim aside and puts two chairs in their place.) Now Mr Telak will arrange his current family. Mrs Jarczyk will be his wife, Mr Kaim his son and Miss Kwiatkowska his daughter.
Telak: But my daughter…
Rudzki: Please arrange them.
Telak positions his family, then goes back to his place. Now it looks like this: on the right, slightly behind Telak stand the two chairs representing his parents. On the left, a few yards in front of him, stands Jarczyk (his wife), looking at Telak. Behind her Kwiatkowska and Kaim are standing next to each other. They’re looking towards the chairs. Telak isn’t looking at any of them.
Rudzki: OK, so that’s how it looks. Mr Telak?
Telak: I feel rotten. Guilty. I’ve got spots before my eyes. May I sit down?
Rudzki: Of course. Please sit on the floor and take a deep breath.
Telak sits down, puts his hands to his mouth and breathes deeply. He keeps his gaze fixed on a single point in space.
Jarczyk: I like it when he feels bad.
Rudzki: And the children?
Kaim: I’m happy to have my sister standing next to me.
Kwiatkowska: And I’d like to go and join my grandparents. I can see them best. I can’t see my father at all, my mother’s blocking my view of him.
Kaim: I want to go and join my grandparents too. Along with my sister.
The therapist stopped the tape again.
“Do you understand what’s happening now?” he asked Szacki.
“Telak is entirely alone. His wife isn’t standing beside him, or even letting the children see him. I feel sorry for him.”
“Please take note of what the children are saying. They want to be together, and they want to go to the grandparents. What does that mean?”
“They want to die.”
“Exactly.”
“Why is that?”
“Out of love. Out of love for their father. He broke the system by leaving home without saying goodbye to his parents, and he never made up for it - he didn’t pay them due respect. The rule is that someone within the system has to take penance upon himself, and it’s usually the child, who comes into the system as a new element. Please understand that things that haven’t been resolved don’t disappear by themselves, but enter the system. Guilt and evil remain, they’re present and perceptible to everyone all the time. The child entering the system takes on the burden of restoring the balance, because he inherits guilt, fear and anger. Do you see?”
“Like Luke Skywalker in Star Wars?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, it’s a silly joke. Yes, I think I understand.”
“Then let’s see what happens next.”
Rudzki leads Kwiatkowska and Kaim away from behind Jarczyk. Now they’re all standing next to each other, looking at Telak.
Jarczyk (trembling and speaking with difficulty): I don’t want my children to stand here. I don’t want them to go to my husband’s parents. I felt better when they were standing behind me.
Kwiatkowska: I’m glad I can see Daddy and my grandparents. I love them very much. Especially Daddy. I can see he’s sad and I’d like to help him.
Kaim: Yes, I agree with my sister, but I feel quite faint. My heart is aching and I’m shaking badly.
Kwiatkowska: May I go over to my grandparents? I feel physically drawn to them.
Rudzki: All right, but just two paces.
Beaming, Kwiatkowska walks towards the chairs. At this sight Jarczyk starts to cry. Pale as the wall, Kaim is rubbing his breastbone.
This time it was Szacki who reached for the remote and stopped the film. Kaim’s grimace of pain froze on the screen, and so did Telak’s vacant stare, fixed on the wall.
“How can it be possible for Kaim’s heart to be aching?” he asked. “I know he’s aware that Telak’s son is ill, but all the same…”
“That’s a tricky one. There’s a certain theory, called the theory of morphogenetic fields, that’s used to explain Hellinger’s therapy. According to this theory, the sort of people we are does not depend on our genes alone, but also on an electromagnetic field. Hellinger says our soul resonates with everything that has happened within our family, and is connected with the living and the dead. During Family Constellation Therapy a stranger can enter into that resonance. We call it the ‘knowing field’.”
“Do you believe that?”
Rudzki made a vague gesture implying that he was prepared to accept the theory, but only for lack of any other.
“I don’t think it matters. What’s important is whether something works or not. I don’t know how a computer works, but I get a great deal of use out of it.”
“Did Telak’s son fall ill after his sister’s suicide?” asked Szacki.
“Yes, that was when Bartek’s heart defect appeared. Illness is always a sign of a breach in the order. Its main dynamic is ‘rather me than you’. We decide to suffer in order to relieve another family member. Only restoring the balance and order allows the illness to be cured.”
“Doesn’t Bartek have a better chance of recovery now that his father has gone?”
Rudzki coughed. He waved apologetically and went into the kitchen, where he blew his nose noisily.
“Mr Szacki,” he called from in there, “I wouldn’t be taking quite so long to consider the answer if it weren’t for your profession and the purpose of your visit. Do you see?”
Szacki got up, took his mug and asked for something to drink.
“So what’s the answer?” he asked, pouring into the mug some still mineral water that his host had handed to him.
“I don’t know. Maybe. But only maybe. Or perhaps his condition will get even worse. You realize that Mr Telak didn’t depart in peace, having settled all his affairs. I think Bartek’s condition would have righted itself once the constellation was completed. A change occurs in the field, and from then on it resonates in a different way. That’s why the changes are also perceptible in people who aren’t taking part in the constellation - they might not even know about it.”
They went back to the sofa.
Rudzki: Mr Telak, please get up now.
Telak gets up with evident effort. Jarczyk is crying even louder.
Rudzki (to Kwiatkowska): Why do you want to go to your grandparents?
Kwiatkowska: I want to relieve Daddy.
Telak (devastated): No, that’s not possible, I refuse to hear of it.
Kaim: I’m longing to go to my sister and my grandparents. I’m in pain. I want it to stop hurting. And for Dad to feel better.
Jarczyk: This is unbearable. I want him to go away (she points at Telak). I don’t love him, I don’t even like him, he’s repulsive and alien to me. I want everything to calm down. I want him to be gone, not the children.
Telak: But I haven’t done anything… (His voice falters, he’s incapable of carrying on.)
Jarczyk: I can feel coldness and emptiness. And hatred. It’s your fault my child is dead! (She breaks into heart-rending sobs.) Do you understand? My daughter is dead, and my son’s going to join her. You’ve murdered my child!
Kwiatkowska: Daddy, I did it for you. Why can’t you understand that? Daddy! (She starts crying.)
Telak sinks to his knees. The entire time he never looks at anyone.
Telak (in a whisper): Leave me alone, it’s not my fault.
Kaim (with an effort): Don’t worry, Dad, we’ll help
you.
Kaim goes up to his sister and grabs her hand.
Kwiatkowska: Yes, Daddy, we’ll both help you.
They take a step towards the chairs.
Jarczyk: No! I beg you, no! You can’t leave me alone with him! You mustn’t go. Please don’t go, don’t leave me alone. Please, please, please.
Kaim turns to face her.
Kaim: Don’t be angry, Mum. We have to do it for Dad.
Jarczyk faints. Clearly alarmed, Rudzki runs up to her and kneels down.
Rudzki (to the others): OK, that’s all for today, we’ll finish this tomorrow morning. It’s a bad thing we’re stopping, but there’s no alternative. Please go to your rooms, please don’t talk or read any books. We’ll meet up at breakfast tomorrow at nine.
Kwiatkowska and Kaim stare at each other as if shaken out of a trance. They let go of each other’s hand and leave the frame. Rudzki lays Jarczyk on her side and goes up to the camera. The entire time Telak is on his knees in the background, staring into space.
The screen went fuzzy. The therapist and the prosecutor sat side by side in silence. After quite a while Szacki got up, went over to the camera and took out the tape.
“That’s dreadful,” he said, staring at the black plastic box. “Weren’t you afraid he’d commit suicide?”
“I admit it occurred to me. But I wasn’t afraid.”
“How come?”
“I’ll tell you something. It’s a well-known story - it happened in Leipzig some time ago. Hellinger arranged a woman, and during the constellation it emerged that she was frigid, incapable of love. Her children were afraid of her and wanted to go to their father, whom she had rejected. Hellinger said: ‘Here is a cold heart.’ Soon after the woman left the room. The other participants in the therapy were afraid she might kill herself, but Hellinger didn’t go after her.”
“And then what?”
“She hanged herself a few days later, and left a letter saying that she couldn’t go on living.”
“Pretty effective therapy,” muttered Szacki.
Entanglement Page 7