Problems exist. That’s just the way it is.
Are there times when you’re the problem, in the sense that you as a person need to give way and transform? Absolutely.
Are there times when, for various reasons, you’ve taken a problem deep into you and identified with the problem, and this identification is actually harming you and others and should be stopped? Absolutely.
Can writing about a problem help you better see which of these might be true in the case of any given problem? Absolutely.
Why is it worth making distinctions about the internalization or externalization of a problem, anyway?
Consider this; when people experience problems for which they seek therapy or counseling, much of the time the narrative within which the problem is being experienced doesn’t sufficiently represent their lived experience; the whole story isn’t being told.
In situations like these, there are always important, vital strands of lived experience that challenge the dominant narrative, and that need to be woven into the account if the problem is to be truly solved.
It can be very difficult, if not impossible, to weave these vital strands into the narrative when a person, or (generally) multiple people are telling a story where the problem is inherent to a particular person or relationship.
Externalizing problems is an approach that encourages people to objectify the problems that they’re experiencing. In this process the problem becomes a separate entity that’s external to the person or relationship that was previously identified as being suffocating and oppressive.
This leads to the problem no longer being experienced as inherent to a person or relationship; the problem is no longer experienced as a fixed quality of a given person or relationship.
Is this the right way to deal with every problem? Of course not, but it can be a powerful way to render certain problems less fixed and restricting, and can lead to genuine resolutions.
Think about how the dynamics of problems tend to play out in a family. Although any given problem might come to be seen as internal to one particular person, all the family members are affected in some way, and might often feel overwhelmed, hopeless, and defeated.
In different ways, they can all begin to take the ongoing existence of the problem, and their failed attempts to solve it, as revelations of fixed structural aspects of themselves, each other, and their relationships.
The continuing survival of a problem, and the failure of the corrective measures taken against it, can serve to reinforce each family member’s notions of all the various negative personal characteristics of the other members of the family.
Over time this leads to a problem-saturated description of individual and family life, which all too often becomes the dominant story in any given family. Like salt in boiling water, the problem is dissolved and invisible in the hot, agitated solution of a disturbed individual or family.
Externalization opens up opportunities for people to describe themselves, each other, and their relationships from a new, less problem-saturated perspective; it seeks to enable the emergence of an alternative story of life, one that’s more encouraging and captivating to individuals and family members; it cools the water and allows the problem to recrystallize into a separate, more visible form that’s easier to work with.
In other words, externalizing problems can:
-Decrease unproductive conflict between people, especially arguments over who is to blame for the problem
-Loosen the suffocating sense of failure that has developed for people in response to the continued existence of the problem, despite their best efforts to solve it
-Pave the way for people to cooperate with each other, to unite in the struggle against the problem, and to sever its influence over their lives and relationships.
-Free people to take more creative, inspired, and intentionally flexible approaches, and less compulsive and rigid approaches, to what remain serious problems
Externalizing a problem creates new space, where neither a person, nor the relationships between people, are the problem; instead, the problem becomes the problem, and then people’s relationships with the problem become the problem.
From this new perspective, people can begin to more clearly see the meaning of those previously ignored vital strands of experience in their lives and relationships that were clouded by the problem-saturated account; this meaning provides the threads out of which new stories are stitched together. This process, when carefully and competently stewarded, can lead to the genuine resolution of problems.
As these threads of meaning are identified, people can be encouraged to weave them into the pattern of individual or family life, instead of keeping them spooled up in a drawer under a sewing machine that, let’s be honest, not many people really know how to even use anymore…
Anyway, like I mentioned, doing this can help weave more vibrant stories out of the threads of previously neglected meaning.
One way to guide the adventure of weaving a new story is to try to develop a consciously conversational approach to individual and family life that encourages the active process of telling alternative stories. Over time this renders more complex and intricate patterns out of the thread of meaning.
This inspires people to keep investigating and elaborating what each new discovery might reflect about people and relationships that were previously simply “problems”.
All this draws out new textures and meanings from people and relationships that were previously flat and dull.
So, as an individual or a family member, how do you use writing to begin to externalize a problem?
Before that, how can you use writing to simply begin to define a problem?
That’s for next time.
