Becoming a Reflective Practitioner - Группа авторов

Скачать книгу

then can people transform their perspectives to see things differently. Dialogue is listening. Only when people really listen can they hear what is being said or not being said. Yet listening seems a rare quality in the patterns of talk that dominate practice and education. Do we listen to what we want to hear, or distorting what we hear in order to fit into our own scheme, to confirm our own assumptions? Finally, it requires that those involved in dialogue have a mutual appreciation of dialogue and ensure when in dialogue with others that the dialogical rules are both known and nurtured.

      To engage reflection, the reflective practitioner will benefit from developing a ‘reflective attitude’ to enhance its learning potential. Fay (1987) identified certain qualities of mind that are pre‐requisite to reflection: curiosity, commitment, and intelligence. These are significant to counter more negative qualities of mind associated with defensiveness, habit, resistance, and ignorance.

      Commitment is energy that sparks life. Yet, for many practitioners, commitment to their practice has become numb or blunted through working in non‐challenging, non‐supportive, and generally stressful environments, where work satisfaction is making it through work with minimal hassle. These practitioners do not enjoy reflection. They turn their heads away from the reflective mirror because the reflected images are not positive. They do not want to face themselves and accept responsibility for their practice. Things wither and die if not cared for. When those things are people, then the significance of commitment is only too apparent. Commitment is the energy that helps practitioners face up to difficult situations. The small child is ambivalent about learning to walk; it stumbles and falls, it hurts itself. It is a painful process. Yet, the satisfaction of developing its potential far outweighs the bumps and bruises (Rogers 1969).

      Curiosity is self‐inquiry, questioning who I am and what I do. It is the opening up of possibility. Gadamer (1975, p. 266) writes:

      The opening up and keeping open of possibilities is only possible because we find ourselves deeply interested in that which makes the question possible in the first place. To truly question something is to interrogate something from the threat of our existence, from the centre of our being.

      Curiosity is fundamental to the creative life and yet many practitioners are locked into habitual patterns of practice. Often, when things get overly familiar, we take them for granted and get into a habitual groove. Curiosity is turning over pebbles, wondering what lies on the other side, while open to the possibilities of viewing the same thing from different perspectives. Curiosity helps us pay attention as if the experience is new.

      Loori (2005, p. 74) writes:

      when we truly pay attention, we see each object or situation for the first time‐ and it always seems fresh and new, no matter how many times we’ve encountered it before. We break free of our habitual ways of seeing.

      Being intelligent, the practitioner is open to new ideas, keen to explore their value for practice rather than be defensive in viewing new ideas as a threat. Intelligence moves beyond abstract knowledge into a deeper awareness of self that Krishnamurti terms as intuition. He writes (1996, p. 89):

      There is an intelligent revolt [against environment] which is not reaction but comes with self‐knowledge through the awareness of one’s own thought and feeling. It is only when we face experience that we keep intelligence highly awakened; and intelligence highly awakened is intuition, which is the only true guide in life.

      Put another way, reflection nurtures intelligence and intelligence nurtures intuition, the very essence of professional artistry.

      However, this may not be easy. Our minds are often full of stuff that distract us. Like a juggler trying to keep eight plates spinning. Generally, people do not take time to slow down and press the pause button. Having a mind full of stuff also offers an excuse not to look at self in any deep way. Rinpoche (1992, p. 31) writes:

      How hard it can be to turn our attention within! How easily we allow our old habits and set patterns to dominate us! Even though they bring us suffering, we accept them with almost fatalistic resignation, for we are so used to giving into them.

      Thus to bring the mind home requires effort. It is a liberating structure to free the practitioner to pay attention to experience. Yet, habits are hard to break, especially when the crowded mind is a defensive mechanism to not paying attention.

      The idea of breaking free from our habitual ways of seeing and responding is at the core of reflective practice.

      Susan Brooks recognises the value of bringing the mind home (2004):

      Susan suggests that ‘bringing the mind

Скачать книгу