Journal Potuguese Release - February 2024 - Flipbook - Page 83
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present in these stories will be revealed beyond the didactic sequences just
presented.
First Story: I Met a Gardener
She arrived at the office with tears in her eyes and a story of suffering to tell.
There, in front of me, another woman reporting on when she discovered her
husband's betrayal, on the effort she made to forgive and allow the couple a
second chance. At that time, they were two. Time passed, the wound stopped
hurting and they dreamed of being three. Pregnancy came as a gift, and on the
day of the birth, she decided to put all that bad history behind her. She wanted to
be born as a mother and as a new woman. It was time for a renewed family to be
born. Along with the son, forgiveness also came. And she wept with joy.
She went home, breastfed, took care of the baby, and felt complete. She felt that
there was reciprocity in the attention and care, and she was sure that this was the
family she had always dreamed of. Until, a few months later, she discovered that
the betrayal was not a shadow of the past, but the harsh reality of the present.
That's when she arrived at my office, and I learned about this story that mixed
pain and hope.
Michael White taught us that we are external witnesses to the stories we are told.
This is not trivial and involves a responsibility both in listening generously and in
responding to what we hear. He clearly and didactically presents us with a fourstep map to navigate this unfamiliar terrain of the therapeutic conversation:
calling our attention to the expression that struck us during the narrative, the
image it conjures up in our minds; the resonance of it with our life, and where it
takes us (White, 2012). That day, when I heard that story, several images – real
and metaphorical – passed through my mind. I heard as a woman, wife, and
mother. I heard a storm, saw bolts of lightning, and devastation. I heard it as
birth, life, forgiveness. Until she wiped her tears, looked at me, and waited for me
to speak.
Inside me, echoed the phrase: “I feel devastated”. The image came naturally: a
garden all turned upside down, holes everywhere. And the resonance took me
back to the time when I lived on the farm and dedicated myself to the garden at
home. In this home garden, I built flowerbeds with colorful flowers and medicinal
plants. Surrounding the land, I built a living fence of calendries, with their fragrant
Gardening Narratives and Writing Stories
Journal of Contemporary Narrative Therapy February 2024 Release, www.journalnft.com, p. 7191.