affective model of change, and accelerated experiential-dynamic psy-
chotherapy (AEDP), the therapy approach it informs, emerged and
evolved.

The affective model of change would never be without the short-
term dynamic psychotherapy (STDP) experience. The stance and tech-
niques detailed in the second part of this book are not a natural out-
growth of the theoretical model, but rather a spur to it. Here, clinical
experience shaped theory: knowing the power of core affect to trans-
form the self, I knew what had to be explained. Part 1, therefore, aims
to provide a conceptual foundation for affect-driven transformation
experienced within an emotionally connected dyad.

Working with Davanloo, I learned firsthand about the power of the
visceral experience of emotion. In watching his extraordinary--and
unique--clinical work, I saw the possibility of profound, substantive,
and lasting change occurring rapidly. I realized that assumptions about
the fragility of patients often are rationalizations for ineffective tech-
nique. Fragility should not be assumed, nor used to inhibit clinical
action: it is a clinical assessment to be made in the course of--not prior
to--dynamic interaction with the patient. At last I came to understand
that patients (that is, all of us), being products of invariably less than per-
fect caregiving, can tolerate remarkably odd situations and make the
best of what is offered, provided they sense that something authentic
and valuable is to be had; thus, automatic constraints on therapeutic
expression are fundamentally unnecessary--even counterproductive.
Patients and psychic phenomena prove quite robust; for the well-
trained clinician, the danger of ineffectiveness and avoided action looms
much larger than the danger of damage from direct intervention.

A return to process notes and one-and-one supervision became
impossible after immersion in Davanloo's exposure method of clinical
training: taboos were being broken left and right. No more inner sanc-
tum of the psychotherapy session; the video camera was there. No more
cozy privacy of one-on-one supervision; the group was there. No more
self-protection of process notes: the work was out there, on tape, not fil-
tered through the categories of my perception, figures of my speech, or
idiosyncrasies of my style. Excruciating as the exposure was, exhilara-
tion was the other side of the coin: I felt seen. Finally, one could truly
learn.

Over time, however, it became increasingly clear that Davanloo's
method of engagement through aggression was suited to his way of
making contact, but not to mine. Furthermore, while a powerful
method in fact was being employed, it was not sufficiently articulated,

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