The Mirror
The auxiliary ego as mirror refers to showing the client what their behavior looks like to others, to alert them to view it “as if in a mirror.” The protagonist remains sitting in the group while watching her/himself being portrayed (Z.T. Moreno 2006). It is a useful tool with non-insightful clients. It also allows the protagonist, after observing this action, a chance to change the offending behavior, to learn a new way to interact with others, including with others in actual living space and time. Psychodrama, therefore, is also behavior training. That aspect, though important, is often neglected in favor of therapeutic resolution and may be therapeutic in itself, since it can change both intrapersonal and interpersonal organization.
The Soliloquy
Another useful psychodrama technique for the director to use is the soliloquy, or “talk with the self.” We are familiar with Hamlet’s “To be or not to be,” which neatly summarizes his dilemma. Psychotics often use it in such a confusing manner that it may require an auxiliary as translator to make sense of it. A telling example occurred in the treatment of a disturbed marriage. The scene was the moment the young man decided to propose to his beloved. They were both not very articulate, so Moreno had him soliloquize his intention while the beloved stayed silent, since in life she had not heard it. Regrettably, when he listened to her soliloquy in turn, it became obvious that neither of them had seen the profound chasm between themselves from the start. It did not augur good fortune for the relationship. They continued to misread one another throughout and the marriage was dissolved. Applying this process within an ongoing scene throws new light upon the interaction and presents the director with fresh clues.
As noted from this example, as time went by we worked with life problems of functioning members of society. Their problems were often more evident. As director, I began to depend less on the double or had the protagonist be their own double, because I intended for the protagonist to take responsibility for his/her own therapy.
Role Reversal
Role reversal originally was done with two actual persons involved in a conflict, not with an auxiliary ego. It is both easier because both are present, the facts are a given, and more difficult because changing their mutual warm-up to their interaction is often quite hard. There may be frequent interruptions and corrections: “You did not say that, or do that,” which may result in bickering and ongoing correction, implying that they each have different memories or interpretations of what happened. In that case, it is evident that their subjective perceptions may clash to such a degree that they cannot coordinate them. They may have to be treated separately, with auxiliary stand-ins, before they are ready for each other if they wish to continue the relationship, which at times is questionable.
As psychodramatic director, one process I find absolutely essential is that of role reversal. I have conducted almost entire sessions with the protagonist in the role of a significant other, returning that person to their own role at the end, dealing with the future of their interaction from that perspective. To be able to genuinely role-reverse meaningfully with another being means to practice “tele.” Tele is the ability to put oneself away temporarily and enter the reality of another, particularly one with whom one is having difficulty. It also helps one to appreciate that reality while evaluating the other’s relationship to oneself. That ability takes practice, just like any other task, but it pays off immeasurably, including in daily life (Moreno and Moreno 1969).
Role reversal is more complicated than being a double. The director may have to guide the process, helping the protagonist to maintain “the other’s reality,” and the auxiliary ego in the reality of the protagonist. The ability to role-reverse is a step towards good mental health, especially when the other’s reality is important to the protagonist. It demonstrates inner balance. The director has to employ good judgment as to whether to use role reversal or not. One clear rule is when the protagonist asks a question that the auxiliary ego cannot answer, either not knowing it or when it is important for the protagonist to provide the answer for therapeutic or intellectual reasons. When working with children, the auxiliary ego should never be less well integrated than the child.
There has been much discussion about whether role reversal can be misused, as in the case of the protagonist in the role of the perpetrator in sexual abuse. If used, the protagonist should never be left in that role, but returned to him or herself and have an opportunity to re-empower themselves, literally taking back their power from the offender. Every psychodrama should make the protagonist feel more powerful after a session than before, not less.
There is a spiritual quality in all auxiliary ego work, and especially in role reversal, in that it requires us to step outside the self, to become a part of all-there-is, the cosmos. I think of this particularly because Moreno taught us about what he termed “surplus reality.”
Surplus Reality
Is it just the land of the imagination? I rather think of it as “the reality beyond reality,” which is at the same time absolutely real. Even asking a person to set aside his or her own being, to be imbued with the reality of another one, can be categorized as a surplus reality application. It is larger than suspending critical judgment; it is entering into other realities. Quantum physicists speak quite naturally of a fourth dimension (Z.T. Moreno, Blumkvist, and Rutzel 2000).
Teachings on Directing the Auxiliaries
The director has to be the most spontaneous member of the group, be relaxed, and a good listener and watcher because, at least at the beginning of the contact, it is the protagonist who knows where it hurts. One essential rule as director and auxiliary ego is “Remember, this is not your life, nor your drama.” Put yourself aside so as to be available. Be sure not to fall into your own world, whether as auxiliary ego or director. Falling into one’s own role is particularly delicate when the protagonist’s problems reflect one’s own.
Much of what follows I learned on my own, in practice, and while teaching. I worked with psychotic patients at home as well as when I was teaching overseas, when we presented within a residential mental health setting. Curiously, in the latter case, being unknown to patients seemed to help them open up. After all, they had no former history with me. I knew nothing about them and yet I always managed to get a protagonist out of the group. Perhaps my being new to them made them more spontaneous with me.
The Role of the Director
The role of the director is multi-faceted. Because my work was first with severely disturbed patients, I thought I would never be able to be a good director. It took about seven years as an apprentice to a master before I began to feel secure as director when working with our students. Their reality was much easier to deal with. Many new directors report how they trembled at first, and are insecure. It takes courage to have trust in oneself. Being a protagonist in the student groups helped me. Working on the self in psychodrama is essential if one aspires to be good at it. Eventually I also worked in large mental hospitals with their patients.
It helps a director to be curious when starting to co-explore the patient’s world, not to be afraid to ask simple or even naive questions, not only “why?” but “how?” “How?” is an action word and leads to “Show me.” “Why?” may lead to descriptions and explanations, which have to be turned into action at some point and make the director’s job harder. Be careful not to be misled by the “why?” or for the protagonist to believe that reporting the story is sufficient. It requires evaluation as to its potential for action, either now or in a later session. I prefer “how?” to “why?” questions because the latter tend to lead to intellectualizing from which the director has