Although Virginia would listen to blaming and complaints about the past in order to maintain rapport with the speaker, she immediately turned the person's attention to solutions or outcomes in the present and future.
I just want to find outright now for you, from you, what at this moment—never mind the past—what right at this moment would make life better for you if it could happen, living in this family? (1983, p. 68)
That's what you don't like. Could you say what you do? (1983, p. 98)
When people tell me what they don't want, I say, “Well, that's interesting; what do you want?” And it's very hard for people to form what they want. (1989)
I want you to look at me now, and I want you to listen really carefully. There's a lot of history—I know there's a lot of history and I don't know what it is, and I have a hunch that oftentimes you don't see what's right in front of your nose, because it is all covered up with what you expect, because you almost did it right now. Are you with me? (Margie: Uh huh.) OK, now I'd like you to look at Casey and feel his skin through your hands at this moment and tell me what you feel. (Casey explodes into a smile.) (1983, pp. 112-114)
I once was with somebody I liked very much—an older person, when I was considerably younger than I am now. That person said, “Spend at least fifteen minutes a day weaving dreams. And if you weave a hundred, at least two of them will have a life.” So continue with a dream and don't worry whether it can happen or not; weave it first. Many people have killed their dreams by figuring out whether they could do them or not before they dream them. So, if you're a first-rate dreamer, dream it out—several of them—and then see what realities can come to make them happen, instead of saying, “Oh, my God. With this reality what can I dream?” (1984)
Virginia's work was guided by the basic outcome questions:
“What do you want?”
“How will you know when you've got it?”
“What stops you now?”
“What do you need in order to get it?”
She also understood that the answers to these questions have to be specified in sensory-based terms, not in vague generalizations or abstractions.
Virginia: I'd like you, if you would, Casey, to say to Margie something you'd like from her—for her to change, some way, whatever it is.
Casey: Stop attacking me. I mean you come on—it's an adversary relationship, babe, when you want attention, which turns me off.
Virginia: I know you're talking from a whole lot of experiences. It's not very specific, but could you be specific? In a specific way, what would you like Margie to change dealing with you?
Casey: Sure. Like when you and the kids want to go to the park, or when you want to go to the park with the kids. (1983, p. 120)
Virginia also knew that when someone wants others to change—no matter how reasonable the request might be—that automatically puts the person in a position of being helpless, dependent on others' willingness to oblige. To be useful and empowering, an outcome needs to direct the person toward what is in his own power to do. Questions such as, “What can you do that would get that response from him/her?” can refocus the person's attention on what he can do to make things better.
As one of the first people brave enough to see the whole family at once, Virginia also knew that each individual's outcome had to be specified in ways that made it desirable, or at least acceptable, to other family members. Once the client gave Virginia a positive outcome, she went after it tenaciously. When one intervention didn't work, she would try variations on that one, or different ones, until she got the desired results.
When Virginia did focus on the past, she usually utilized it to provide a vivid demonstration of patterns of interaction that continued into the present. At other times she focused on the past so that she could redescribe past events to give them a more positive and empowering meaning in the present.