Rolling with resistance
I've worked quite a lot over the past year. Sometimes it’s difficult to say no – even when I’m "fully booked." So when the proposal to translate the latest edition of Motivational Interviewing came my way, I immediately said yes (and quickly reshuffled other deadlines to make room for a new challenge).
Of all the psychology books I’ve translated, this one is probably the clearest, most direct, and most impressive. It was a real joy to work on a publication that I knew could have a real impact on patients – and might actually change lives. I was also comforted by the fact that the method had undergone extensive clinical trials and is grounded in solid evidence. In a field increasingly crowded with new methods, buzzwords, and trends, it’s getting harder to distinguish psychobabble from evidence-based practice.
What stood out to me was the way the method has been adapted across cultures – it’s now used and taught in 75 languages around the world. I appreciated how much attention the authors gave to cultural diversity, emphasizing the need to adjust the approach to the patient’s country of origin, family background, and personal values. They also stressed the importance of aligning therapeutic goals with the patient’s own convictions and motivations; otherwise, the risk is that the helper may impose their own agenda, undermining the entire process.
The book featured some memorable phrases. I especially liked “rolling with resistance.” It’s tricky to translate – not just because of the alliteration, but because of its informal tone and layered meaning. Interestingly, in the new edition, the authors decided to replace it with “softening sustain talk,” intentionally avoiding the term “resistance,” which can suggest confrontation and opposition. Research showed that confronting patients often leads them to shut down, and, in some cases, never return to therapy. A related concept is the “fixing reflex,” the therapist’s impulse to quickly solve the patient’s problems. The authors emphasize that this urge, however well-intentioned, should be restrained for therapy to unfold properly.
In a recent interview, Dr. Rollnick, one of the co-authors, revealed that he was working on another book where he would apply the method to areas like sports and parenting – two fields I’m particularly interested in, as the mother of a boisterous football fan ;o) I’d love the opportunity to translate that one too!
Dialog motywujący, William R. Miller & Stephen Rollnick, 2025
Janet Planet
This month another edition of the Off Camera Independent Film Festival took place in Cracow, Poland. I have been involved with its creative team for 15 years now (I'm that old!), providing both film translation and Q&A session interpreting. Although our collaboration started in Poland, it continued after I moved to Spain, even through the 2020 pandemic, when my flight was unexpectedly cancelled and I was made to watch my translations online.
This year I was probably most impressed by the low-key Janet Planet. Although there seems to be little going on in the film, it takes a few days of scratching your head before you realize what its actual theme might be. Once I snapped out of the visual hypnosis, I scanned the Internet hoping to discover if someone else was equally confounded by the film's ambiguous meaning. And yes, it seems the viewers are divided, some discard it as New Age mumbo jumbo, and other praise its director for boldly portraying an alternative lifestyle without necessarily judging it.
Surprisingly, I was most touched not so much by the story of the protagonist (who seemed to me to be a rather typical single mother doing her best raising her daughter while - somewhat compulsively - going through a string of mismatched boyfriends), but by that of their temporary housemate, Regina. Played by Sophie Okonedo, she is a torn woman, who has just realized that she spent all her savings and a big portion of her life serving the needs and desires of a promiscuous guru-like character named Avi. In a revealing conversation with Janet's daughter, Regina confesses she has done nothing except be an actress in his show and lose herself in the process. She looks helpless and resigned while working out how she might account for a five-year gap in her résumé.
Although her character is not fully developed and we only get glimpses of her childhood and how she got into the cult, her story rings so many bells: an adult behaving like a lost child, a tormented soul, a gullible woman looking for her place in the world. I have seen so many of my friends go the same winding road in their eternal search for some kind of deeper meaning that could only be revealed by a 'mystical being'. And so many of them needed a good few years to see that the king is naked and they wasted their lives chasing after wind. Fortunately, both Janet and Regina understand they are better off without male company (at least for now), and decide to turn to their own intuition and trusted friends in order to find their way back to what they really need. The film's ending unfolds quietly, there are no sudden shifts nor dramatic conversations (like the one in The Master, one of my favourite films touching on the subject of collective mind control). Perhaps the most striking is the scene where Janet listens to Avi reciting Rilke's Fourth Duino Elegy only to see him disappear when the poem ends.
Ty mene lubysh?
Kira is still a teenager when the world as she knows it begins to change. The collapse of the Soviet Union means liberation, but she is confused about what she might use it for. She only knows one thing: she has a lot of love to give.
Kira's story struck more than a chord with me. I was nine when Poland held its first democratic elections since it had become part of the Soviet Bloc. I remember my mother took me with her to the polling station. Some people would cast their votes smiling and cheering, other in solemn silence. My mother had a look of incredulity on her face. She was probably thinking it was yet another hoax. After all, she had spent all her life voting in rigged elections. "Solidarność" won by a landslide and... things were beautiful for a while. Later the historians called this process a 'peaceful transition', but in my personal story I recall more than a bump on the way.
This week I have provided a pro bono translation of Ty mene lubysh? for a special screening in the Warsaw Museum of Modern Art.
The surprising benefits of worrying
Last week I had the pleasure of translating an interview with Kristrún Frostadóttir. Iceland's youngest ever Prime Minister, she is keen to show she can fill those shoes, and what with the current political situation, she has plenty of opportunities to prove that. Some of the burning topics include the US tariffs, EU accession, fishing rights, climate change, and the army (or lack thereof). While translating the interview, I noticed an interesting thing: she said she was worried six times. Six times in a 12-minute conversation. A chronic overthinker, I did not let that detail slip and thought of what it might mean, and whether her male counterparts would be inclined to say the same with equal frequency. I mean, it almost did not sound like the head of government talking about politics. It almost sounded like a mother expressing her worry about her child. And that made me think of other powerful women, both real and fictional, like the president of the EU Commission Ursula von der Leyen (herself a mother of 7), or Birgitte Nyborg (seen here in the background) , a character of the Danish series Borgen, which mesmerised me a few years ago (you can see it on Netflix). What Frostadóttir and Nyborg have in common is they are both Nordic, they are both prime ministers, and they are both... worried. I wonder if worrying is a 'female' thing and whether it might sometimes be a good thing. I mean, Frostadóttir promises a referendum on the EU accession and an internal debate on whether Iceland needs an army, and that is where her worrying took her. I suppose to a good place of dialogue with her nation. I keep my fingers crossed for her and other women killing it in the political arena ('killing' is not to be taken literally). And I hope to see her grow as a leader and become something more than "the youngest PM". To become a character, as fully-fledged as Nyborg. Or, in the words of her compatriot Björk: to not just be feminine.
Treasure
Treasure, the film I translated for the Off Camera and the Warsaw Jewish Film Festivals last year, is still making rounds in Poland, testifying to the need to keep healing the Holocaust wound. Catch it at the Polish-Czech-Slovak Kino na Granicy this month!
Xarxa Mesa Redonda
I finally got to meet the local Xarxa people and it was a hoot! The Valencian Xarxa has been doing a great job of reminding all and sundry that translation is an art that has been around for millennia and will not go away without a fight (a head-to-head battle with robots, if needs be!). And yes, the background picture is that of Jerome of Stridon, patron saint of translators. He may not look that well fed, but we made sure to fill our stomachs with hearty portions of vegetarian food at Oslo Restaurant ;o)
LocLunch Valencia
It was the fourth time I had joined this wonderfully multilingual and multicultural crowd. We met at Mercabañal and some of us could not resist dipping our feet in the sea (a great alternative to the siesta)...
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