PSYCHODRAMA
AS SPIRITUAL RITUAL
Adam Blatner, M.D., TEP
Revised
&
Re-Posted, April 9, 2010
In addition to the use of
psychodramatic methods in psychotherapy, business, education, and other
settings, one of its more widespread uses is that of helping relatively
healthy people to become even healthier. This paper envisions a
re-visioning of this application, considering ways in which psychodrama
might function as a kind of spiritual ritual. In one-to-one counseling,
for example, there has been a progression from psychotherapy for
identified problems to a more health-oriented “coaching.” Some people
are doing something similar, working from the tradition called
“spiritual direction”–some call it “spiritual companioning.” In other
words, the journey of psychological growth becomes for some a normative
process, a kind of life-long education that weaves together emotions,
cognitive skills, physical self-care, philosophy, love, faith,
responsibility, wisdom, and ongoing attitude adjustment.
This life development partakes of elements of meaning-making,
spirituality, community-building, and related social functions. I
imagine certain community institutions, such as some liberal churches
or human potential programs, might well use psychodrama as a vehicle
for helping their members explore their life goals. Pastor John Oman in
Minneapolis wrote a beautiful exposition on this theme which expresses
in Christian terms his actual use of the "Theatre of Reconciliation" at
the Wesley United Methodist Church in downtown Minneapolis
(Oman, 1974).
Spirituality is here defined as any activity that helps people develop
a relationship or sense of deeper connectedness with the Greater
Wholeness of Being, which for many is associated with
transcendental images, however that may be imagined (e.g., God,
Goddess, Great Spirit, the Ground of Being, Ancestors, etc.). The
social organization of the spiritual impulse is a major feature of
Religion, though it is possible to be religious without being
particularly spiritual, or spiritual without being affiliated with any
particular religion–or both, or neither.
To the extent that a community gathers to contemplate the verities of
life and the universe, one aspect of that is the way each individual’s
life is a kind of heroic journey, one in which the challenge is to find
meaning, belonging, purpose, and healing, in a world that too often
operates to undermine such experiences. Redemption need not require a
meta-narrative of the Fall and Salvation (though some find that
useful); simply helping people to re-claim their own natural heritage
of innocence, vitality, enthusiasm, and other qualities is often
enough, and this redemptive process resonates with themes found in the
stories from myths in many cultures.
Psychodrama itself grew out of a belief by its inventor, Jacob Levy
Moreno, M.D., (1889 - 1974), that helping people to discover and
express the creative sources and potentials within them was indeed one
way that the “Godhead” (as he called the Divine Source) operated in the
Cosmos. Moreno further saw this process as social as well as
individual–that is, in the process of authentic encounter, people feel
more validated and liberated in their creativity. Historically, Moreno
as a young man (around 1909) experimented with some friends in Vienna
in trying to create a “religion of encounter” (Moreno, 1989). He had
studied comparative religion and philosophy, and wanted to bring this
sensibility into a kind of social activism. A few years later he helped
to organize the downtrodden prostitutes of the city into some of the
first experiments with self-help groups, and soon after that wrote
inspired theological poetry, in his own way channeling “higher power”
as he experienced it. This was then written in some of the literary
journals in the city, which he also helped edit. [Recent scholarship
has shown that these writings influenced Martin Buber in the
development of his concepts of encounter and the “I-Thou” relationship
between a person and God, and between one person and another (Waldl,
2004).] The point here is that Moreno’s interest in promoting
creativity was not only a psychological insight, but expressed a
spiritual ideal.
Moreno might be further recognized as being perhaps fifty years or more
ahead of his time, in that the dominant zeitgeist, dominated by
Freudianism, was more secular. Talking about God was considered to be
muddy-minded, mystical, and faintly disreputable. Beginning in the
1980s, though, with the emergence of transpersonal psychology and
similar developments, workshops that directly included spirituality
began to proliferate and in many quarters, has become mainstream!
Moreno’s ideas nowadays don’t seem so weird.
A Ritual of Loving
Psychodrama might be thought of as a kind of community loving
process insofar as its goal is the bringing forth the lives of its
members into fuller actualization. To bring another person forth
represents the healthiest part of parental and even mature erotic love.
There’s an enjoyment in witnessing and perhaps even facilitating
another’s development, emotional liberation, empowerment, and opening
to support.
In our own time, psychology has helped us to appreciate the many
components of individuality, and being helped by others, and there is a
kind of loving concern in helping others in return to find ways to both
celebrate our differences and at the same time optimize harmony with
one’s social matrix. Sociometry as a method (associated with
psychodrama) may also be used to help people identify those groups with
whom one feels most congenial.
Psychodrama offers a more specific redemptive process than what people
may experience as side effect of traditional practices of liturgy or
common traditional community activities. I envision a spiritual center
sponsoring one or several weekly psychodrama groups where participants
draw each other forth using the classical psychodrama process. That is,
participants would warm up to a theme or the situation of one of its
members, an enactment would be facilitated with the help of a trained
director, using other group members as auxiliaries, and afterwards, in
the sharing and closing, the experience would be digested to the
benefit of all. The themes would be recognized as operating not only at
the level of the individual’s personal situation, but also as
reflective of everyone’s life struggle, common themes, cultural issues,
and even religious concerns having been recognized as being operative
in the drama.
Invocation
To make a psychodrama a ritual, I imagine the director or group
leader beginning with an invocation (Blatner, 2000b). This would
acknowledge the spiritual intention of the group’s process.
Spirituality is here defined as an activity in which one (or a group)
develops its relationship with the Greater Wholeness of Being, whether
that be personified as a single entity, such as God, Jesus, Goddess, or
by some other name, or left more impersonal, as Tao, Spirit, etc. It is
possible to allow for a wide diversity of personal symbol sets–i.e.,
those images by which one structures one’s sense of meaning–while yet
agreeing on a common goal of drawing each other forth as an expression
of personal, community, and divine love.
The word, invocation, implies a calling in, an invitation to the
transcendental realm to witness, protect and guide. (Note that it is
not necessary that anyone be forced to affirm any literal belief in any
identifiable representations of “beings” or spirits in the
transcendental realm!) It’s more a ritualized way to affirm the values
involved. I imagine the group leader saying something like, “We are
gathered here for spiritual purposes, to help each other, an act of
loving, to bring our minds to the challenge of helping our group
members become a little more free, a little wiser, a little stronger.
Each protagonist’s psychodrama is a gift to the others, will have
certain elements that will speak to aspects of all the participants’
deeper processes of healing.”
Encounter
Psychodrama involves an enactment of a person’s situation that
may include scenes from the past or the future, but all are enacted as
if they were in the here-and-now. Psychodrama as a process is
structured sufficiently to contain the dynamics evoked, yet also
flexible enough to address a very broad range of situations that can
arise in the course of the action. This flexibility is part of the
spirit of encounter, a recognition that each person is intrinsically
spontaneous, not programmed, and open to shifting frames of reference,
needs, evoked memories, and so forth. The process of spontaneity then
is open to the needs of the moment, rather than being overly dependent
on any set of fixed expectations.
The idea of encounter, of what the Jewish theologian Martin Buber meant
by the “I-Thou” relationship, is predicated on the capacity for all
parties to give up sets of expectations and to be able to respond to
the spontaneity of the other. (An I-It relationship, in contrast, is
one in which the other is granted no spontaneity, no capacity to be
surprising. It is then treated as a thing. But a true “Thou” can
surprise us–it is recognized as being free and having its own agendas.)
Part of maturity is learning to deal with the actuality of other
people, and this is cultivated through the art of encounter.
(Interestingly, as Robert Waldl [2005] discovered, Buber was
significantly influenced in the development of his thinking in this way
by Moreno, with whom he had contact around 1919.)
To promote the fullest encounter, all parties should ideally be in a
continuous process of self- and other-discovery, which is also an
implicit goal in psychodrama. We discover that we have many intentions,
many conflicting goals, and through this process, a more coordinated
and self-reflective consciousness can begin to coordinate these many
parts of the personality.
The encounter process is ongoing, and to the extent that it is aimed at
bringing others forth (as well as respecting the different parts of
oneself), it is loving. In this sense, love should be recognized as a
verb, not something you “have” but something you “do.” Sometimes what’s
up is to love even when you don’t feel like it. Imagine, then, that
loving, and also other nouns-turned-into-verbs–faith-ing, wisdom-ing,
doing responsibility, cultivating cheerfulness–that these require a
continued engaging of the present moment–again that core idea of
spontaneity (Blatner, 2005). Another related idea is that of mutuality (Blatner, 2002).
Will in the service of love includes a high degree of mutuality, of
finding out what you need moment by moment, and intelligently
responding. Sometimes that response involves listening attentively,
simply being present, a witness. Perhaps I may feel more respected or
loved when you withhold from your own need to intervene, however
helpful your intention. Your wiser recognition that at this moment,
simply being present suffices. Not doing should be acknowledged to be a
kind of positive action at times. Also, helpful actions may be very
subtle, receptive, hardly noticeable as “action.” For example, one of
the more courageous kinds of loving involves letting someone else feel
effective in doing something for you! (People when they’re sick or
dying might benefit from opening to this message–it’s part of what was
publicized in the “Tuesdays With Morrie” best-selling book [Albom,
1997] and video.)
In addition to the dynamics of spontaneity and encounter, another
interesting one is that of playfulness–not as superficial frivolity or
mere distraction, but rather as a way to allow situations to be
tentative, the “as if” that allows for explorations. Moreno was the
first person in psychology that I know of who contemplated the nature
of spontaneity, and he recognized that it emerged as a fragile dynamic,
only when anxiety was lower, when the person felt truly safe. What
could best help people feel safe? The context of play. Children in the
act of pretending generate this context so their minds can feel safe
and free, because actions don’t really count (Blatner & Blatner,
1997). For adults, the equivalent of pretend play is drama.
Moreno recognized, though, that drama could and should transcend its
cultural traditions–which had become that of actors rehearsing and
enacting memorized scripts written by others. He envisioned a
re-energized type of theatre that was more improvisational and
interactive. In 1921 he formed one of the first improvisational theatre
troupes, “The Theater of Spontaneity,” and explorations in impromptu
theatre continued to be one of his interests.
While mutual encounter in dialogue is good, drama offers a number of
additional dimensions, such as the power of place (setting a scene);
body position and relationship–those nonverbal dimensions of
communication; the power of action, of doing, of actually saying things
or moving one’s muscles; the directness of encounter–rather than
talking “about” a relationship–; the use of other people to play
counter-roles, the power of an audience, the capacity to abruptly shift
roles, the weaving in of humor and practical concerns–these and other
elements make drama a more effective “laboratory” for exploring
personal experiences. The element of play leavens it, also, so for
example, participants can feel free to break the action and take care
of their needs, such as by saying, “Time out; I have to go to the
bathroom.” The point is that the stage, a place for enacting one’s
story and exploring alternatives, may be closer to real life and more
effective than the analyst’s couch or the simple process of talking in
a consultation room.
A Heroic Journey
From the individual’s standpoint, the various situations in life
may often be framed as part of a mythically heroic journey. (More about
this idea on my paper on the heroic journey elsewhere on this
website adam\psyntbk\hero’sjourney.html.) This is
another important metaphor for life (see webpage on metaphor).
Many people go through a series of experiences that partake of some of
the elements of such a journey, from encountering allies to recognizing
those who are really the opposite of helpful. Psychodrama further
partakes of this mythic process, drawing also on elements related to
rites of passage. This recognition that our lives may be appreciated as
having trans-personal resonances, expressive of archetypal roles, thus
reminds us that our living also can have spiritual depth. Healing
itself should be recognized as a spiritual process, part of the
archetypal journey of the creative, growing soul.
Psychodrama then functions as a kind of religious ritual through which
people enact their own awakening, healing, re-birth, role transition,
and this also within a supportive context. That caring for each other
may further be understood as expression of the spirit of Divine love,
even as the activities may also partake of elements of play.
As participants are warmed up to spontaneous interactions, they bring
to bear the action of their creative subconscious–a realm that in the
past was associated with that of the muses and spirits. The point here
is that fully spontaneous enactments serve to help connect everyday
mind with deeper soul and spirit. That the subconscious mind may be a
repository of that which is disowned and anxiety-producing was
recognized by Freud; his student, C. G. Jung, though, expanded the view
of the subconscious to recognize that it can also function as a source
of innate healing, creativity, and self-actualization. Using a
spiritual metaphor, then, Divine energy, spirit, may be imagined to be
working in and through our corroded, split, complex egos, seeking to
align and bring forth healing.
A View of Sickness and Healing
Wholeness involves bringing together that which has been
separated, and this is the meaning of integrity and integration. The
psyche is one dynamic process that slips frequently into splitting and
compartmentalization. We don’t know what to do with certain new stimuli
or learnings. They overwhelm our circuits and we just bury them under
the carpet, incorporate them in undigested form, or try to expel them
by playing them out in repetitive action. We often project them onto
others or make the others the source of our salvation. True healing
involves helping the person to gradually re-own and re-integrate these
split-off parts. That’s what happens in shamanic healing, too.
The process of becoming ill, in a somewhat shamanic view, arises
because a soul under stress sacrifices part of itself, in order to buy
some safety: I’ll give up my sexuality or independence or power if
you’ll just love me! Other qualities that get split off include
self-love, courage, a sense of empowerment, sexuality, spiritual
connectedness, grounding, humility, surrender, tenderness, even
thinking independently. For a young child, the need to maintain a
relationship with a protective other is primary. Under stress, kids
split off parts of themselves, and as life goes on, there are both
pressures and opportunities for healing–and psychodrama is one of those
opportunities. Having split off those parts of self, and developing a
mixture of numbing and a shell of character defenses, for many if not
most people, this sealing-over works okay for a while. Then new changes
in life, new roles, and the process of maturation in general begin to
demand a wider range of functions. The brittle shell of character
cracks, and dis-order, discomfort, or even disease results (Blatner,
2004a).
The shamanic model of healing suggests that those vital capacities that
have been split off, repressed and compartmentalized need to be
recovered and reclaimed. Psychodrama simply offers a ritual process for
that re-integration and healing.
Because the mind and development may involve the interplay of hundreds
of sub-routines and dynamics, the process of re-integration cannot be
achieved in a single healing process. In the drama of a psychodrama,
significant gains may be made as the individual begins to recognize and
re-own some disowned emotion, but this is just the catharsis of
abreaction. There are many further challenges: How can I work this
fearsome yet needed quality back into my life? An internal paradigm
shift is needed. Can I function with anger or aggression as part of my
being? or conversely, without it? Discovering such approaches
leads to a further catharsis of integration. (Moreno emphasizes the
need for a catharsis of abreaction, of emotionality, to be followed-up
by a working through, a catharsis of integration.)
The value of psychodrama as a group process is that it offers something
more than the validation of that which can be given by a single other
person; one person can be too easily discounted, but a group offers a
stronger feedback. The vulnerable protagonist–the person who is going
through the process of the exploration in a psychodrama, facilitated by
the director and others playing supporting parts (i.e.,
“auxiliaries”)–asks questions such as, “Can I be assertive, or
vulnerable, with other people?” This is the next level of catharsis–the
social catharsis–that responds to the question: Can I be more whole and
still be acceptable, even loved? The healing that comes from
discovering this is part of the ritual power.
And furthermore, Moreno suggested yet a final level of healing, through
what he called a “cosmic” catharsis. (His use of “cosmic,” was
his slightly more scientific way of expressing a spiritual insight in a
time when religion was not all that respectable in intellectual
circles.) Today, spirituality is once again fashionable, because with
the help of C. G. Jung, Joseph Campbell, Huston Smith, professionals
doing transpersonal psychology, and many others, it’s possible to
recognize that spirituality can be enjoyed within or beyond the
confines of any particular religion. A deeper level of dynamic is being
elucidated. Cosmic catharsis deals with the question: How does the new
me, the more whole me, fit - not just in this hermetically-sealed
supportive group, but in the wider world? How does it fit with my
greater sense of what it is all about? What is my purpose, where and
how do I belong in the universe? Can God love me if I’m more whole in
this way? How can I re-vision God so that I can feel more a part of the
universe? When people experience this, integration and healing become
more complete.
In mythology, the Hero’s Journey involves the call to healing and
wholeness. We may find ourselves diminished, in need of someone or
something, and gradually, in our travels, we meet people who offer
clues (Blatner, 2006a). The journey may become more complex and
sometimes impelled by emotional or physical pain. In psychodrama, you
find yourself in a sacred space with fellow travelers, each a hero in
his or her own right, on his or her own quest. There might be
similarities and differences–but the quest is towards healing, towards
identifying and re-claiming that which has been lost, or split off. The
process is tricky, infinitely varied, yet certain commonalities serve
as archetypal supports, offer energy, love, and a matrix for
rediscovery and healing.
A personal example: In the early years of my training, I was seeking to
work out my ambivalent feelings to my mother. At one point, I
confronted her in “surplus reality”– she wasn’t really there in the
room, but her part was played by another group member as “auxiliary.” I
brought up the courage to say what I had never consciously thought:
“You never validated my individuality!” (It was good for me, a small
catharsis, just to be able to name what it was that I wanted; I hadn’t
known this before.)
The director then said, “reverse roles.” (In this technique, I then
become the other person–in this case, I physically move to where my
“mother” was standing and become her. The auxiliary playing her moves
to where I was standing and becomes me.) I found myself in the
predicament of my mother. The director said, “repeat the last line.”
The auxiliary as Adam said, “You never validated my
individuality.” I was my mother, at that point, in her
predicament, a nice Jewish mother with little higher education. I heard
her answer in my head, with the slight inflection of irony and a
gradually rising pitch of indignation: “This is what you learn in
college? To talk to your mother with no respect? What? I don’t feed
you, I don’t put a roof over your head? What is this individ-whatever?
I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”
I then laughed–and laughter can be a catharsis as much as tears. In
role reversing this way, the catharsis of integration was enriched as I
realized that I could forgive her in a new and deeper way, because in
her role, certain kinds of love were never modeled or talked about in
her own life.
If psychodrama were to be imagined as a ritual, then, imagine yourself
as the person who is the focus of the life-exploration, the
protagonist: First you enact some scenes closer to the present, then go
back and enact scenes in the middle or more distant past that may have
influenced your attitudes and reaction patterns of the past. In this
sense, it may be imagined as a spiral path, spiraling in, first,
re-encountering the demons of the past. And yet in this journey you are
strengthened by the present moment and a lifetime of memories–the
positive ones are drawn upon–to serve. You have the help of others in
containing the energies so you don’t have to be overwhelmed. You have
the magic of pretend, make-believe, fiction, drama, the role-distance
that again makes the encounters, while heartfelt, yet not ultimate. You
can explore alternatives, because, as Moreno put it, “Every second time
is a liberation from the first.”
In the ritual of psychodrama, by exploring the memories and situations
in the past that fed into the what you’ve been carrying in your mind as
inner rules, attitudes, and behaviors, you discover the disowned parts.
You also discover in the psychodramatic process of the catharsis of
integration that in the present these disowned parts contain
life-giving energies, types of intelligence, values that you’ve needed
and can use now. They may be mixed with other qualities that are
childish, short-sighted, foolish, petty–but all-too-human. You weave in
self-forgiveness
or self-discipline, or a new resolve, and always, in the social
catharsis, a flood of soothing okayness, acceptance, love– with the
help of all the others.
The psychodramatic process moves into the present and the future, and
in creating and trying out new attitudes and reaction processes, you
engage the alchemical process of differentiating what you want to keep
with what you want to discard. There might be elements that you want to
put away, consciously, to use in certain situations, but not others.
You may make all sorts of creative compromises and syntheses from this
highly conscious present moment. Through the psychodramatic technique
of replay, you can do it again and again, practicing like a fine
musician refining her part.
This ritual also serves the others in the group. In your struggle as
protagonist, other group members experience resonances with their own
inner dramas. Just by being yourself, and in the course of becoming
even more your (true) self, you give to others, help them, serve as an
example of both foolishness and wisdom - in an occasion for both
forgiveness and encouragement. In another session, you serve as
audience member or supporting player (auxiliary) in another group
member’s drama. People share when they are ready. Each struggle also
lifts the other, so it is a group ritual in truth.
Sociodrama
The ritual is not only for the individual struggle. We are at a
time in history in which humanity has the tools–and psychodrama is one
of them–to participate consciously in its own evolution! To do this, it
must subject the collective to the same process! We need to re-evaluate
not only the individual decisions–including the mistakes–that we’ve
made and proceed in healing, but also our collective decisions–our
social norms, traditions, everything we’ve created–especially in the
political, social, economic, religious, symbol-filled world of all our
institutions–and question them, heal them (Blatner, 2006b). It’s a
challenge that may take hundreds, thousands of years–but it begins
now–well, now is all we have, isn’t it? Sociodrama addresses the role
definitions. What should a real man be, anyway? Or a real woman? How
should a parent behave? What do we expect from a successful person? a
fulfilled one?
A spin-off of sociodrama was called axiodrama by Moreno: What are the
axioms, the fundamental ideals or taboos of our culture? What do we
mean by freedom, by strength, by love, compassion, enlightenment,
goodness, beauty, art? All these words can be and in some sectors are
being challenged. Even the word “God.” For lots of folks and some who
think they’re religious, God is an it, not a thou. You do this and that
and you can be assured God will respond this way. Or: that’s the way
it’s supposed to be. God is a judge that operates along fairly clear
lines. Or perhaps not, as Job discovered. Can God be a Thou?
I venture into these spiritual realms with the tool of drama because it
is arguable that even God is in an ongoing process of creative
discovery. Omniscience sounds like a compliment, but it deprives God of
the aesthetic enjoyment of ongoing discovery, waking up, being reborn
again, in every universe, in every baby, in every moment. Should we
presume to deprive a creative spirit of this enjoyment in the
preposterous belief that we know what’s good for God? –that it is
better to be perfect, finished, according to our definitions of
potency, action, value? Or might we do both God and each other greater
honor and respect by stepping back and saying in full humility, “Wow,
maybe there are aspects of you I don’t know! And maybe even aspects
you’re enjoying discovering. I want to be open to your continuing
process! Maybe it even includes our mutual discovery of ourselves in
relation to each other!” Psychodrama may also be a context in which
action techniques can be used for such explorations of our
relationships with the Cosmos (Blatner, 2004b).
In summary, I envision psychodrama as an instrument for ritualizing a
group process that can have collective value as well as individual
benefits. Its roots in play weave in what many cultures include, an
element of the trickster. We can be serious in our pursuit of healing
while not yet becoming overly solemn. Role relief, a joke and laughter
reinforce our communal humility, our willingness to let go and return
to tentativeness, to un-knowing and opening again with innocence. We
explore gently, and allow our finest constructions to be washed away,
like the fine sand painted mandalas of the Tibetan monks. As our
culture moves toward a greater integration of both psychology and
spirituality, the dimensions of play, creativity, spontaneity, drama,
action, and related ideas become far more relevant. I invite you to
explore these ideas and techniques.
References:
Albom, M. (1997). Tuesdays
with Morrie. New York: Doubleday.
Blatner, A. (2000a). Foundations of
psychodrama: history, theory & practice (4th ed.). New York:
Springer
Blatner, A. (2000b). A new role for
psychodramatists:
Master of Ceremonies.
International Journal of Action Methods, 53(2), 86-93.
(See on this website a revised version of this paper.)
Blatner, A. (2002). Mutuality in psychotherapy. On website: www.blatner.com/adam/level2/mutuality.htm
Blatner, A. (2004a). The developmental nature of consciousness
transformation. ReVision: A Journal of Consciousness &
Transformation, 26 (4), 2 - 7.
Blatner, A. (2004b). Enacted dialogue. From Website: http://www.blatner.com/adam/level2/enacteddialog.html
Blatner, A. (2005a). Perspectives on wisdom-ing. ReVision: A Journal of Consciousness &
Transformation, 28 (1), 29-33.
Blatner, A. (2006a). The hero’s journey. Retrieved from
website: http://www.blatner.com/adam/psyntbk/hero'sjourney.html
Blatner, A. (2006b). Enacting the new academy: Sociodrama as a powerful
tool in higher education. ReVision:
A Journal of Consciousness & Transformation, 29 (2), pgs.?
Blatner, A. (2007). Designing and conducting rituals,
ceremonies
and celebrations (Chapter 5, pp 45-55). In A. Blatner (Ed.),
Interactive & Improvisational
Drama: Varieties of Applied Theatre
and Performance. Lincoln, NE: iUniverse. (www.iuniverse.com) also: http://interactiveimprov.com/
Blatner, A. (2007a). Webpage supplement to Chapter 5 (above): http://interactiveimprov.com/ritualswb.html
Blatner, A. & Blatner, A. R. (1997). The art of play: Helping adults reclaim
imagination and spontaneity. New York: Brunner Mazel. (Out of
print–available from authors.)
Oman, John. (1974). A theology for psychodrama---in memory of Jacob L.
Moreno. Group Psychotherapy &
Psychodrama 27, 48-54.
Waldl, R. (2005). J.L. Morenos Einfluss auf Martin Bubers Ich und Du. Zeitschift fur Psychodrama und
Soziometrie, 4 (1), 175- 191.
I am open to and
interested in your feedback.
Email me at adam@blatner.com