This is an essay that Jason Mihalko PsyD and I wrote together in 2014 that was published in a now defunct online magazine, and is no longer able to be found online. We laughed at the thought of titling it “Two White Shrinks Sitting Around Talking” – but I don’t remember what it was actually titled at the time of publication. I decided to publish it here for those who may be interested, and simply to preserve its availability. Time moves fast, and memories fade, and concepts of justice work continue to evolve but it is sometimes valuable to have records of our labors and the processes we have moved through.
Since the death of Trayvon Martin, and again this summer when the Ferguson protests began and now with the devastating Eric Garner case and the protests and demonstrations that have followed in its wake , I began noticing that I have become comfortable (or complacent?) in my role as a respectful listener and a grateful learner when a black client, friend or acquaintance is trusting or generous enough to share their complex thoughts and feelings with me. In racially mixed settings I also feel comfortable generally, supporting and amplifying the voices of people of color. Maybe because I am a reluctant leader anyway. Maybe because, as clinical social worker I’ve have been trained to hold still and offer support. Maybe because I am aware of the ways I could inadvertently shut the conversation down or damage a fragile trust with a thoughtless word, or error. Maybe I hold still because I am cowardly and fearful of making a mistake. And most likely a combination of all of these.
But the places I feel most self-conscious, most “not right with myself” and most disoriented is in dialogue with other white people: white clients, friends, and extended family. Heated confrontations, indulgent “patience” righteous tongue clicking, back-patting or colluding avoidance – no position, no conversation, and no silence feels right.
So I decided to use this column to talk with a white friend and colleague, Jason Mihalko, PsyD, a clinical psychologist (and author of the blog The Irreverent Psychologist) about how we, as clinicians, talk about these issues in our offices, on social media and in our lives. There is likely little here that will be useful or illuminating to black readers, or other people of color. Maybe, there are few white readers out there, like Jason and myself, who could always use another opportunity to, and check and challenge ourselves – to do whatever work we can do on our own – to examine our participation in oppressive systems.
JM: Yes. I’m also thinking about how we are two white psychotherapists talking about these issues. It’s making me think about how rare it is that I hear the voices of psychotherapists who are people of color. Their voices, I find, are often hidden within a special “diversity” class or locked away in a department of African Studies. I get frustrated when diversity and multi-cultural practice is something that is limited to a special class or special circumstances. We aren’t often taught to look at all of our interactions and work through this lens.
I think this is my work as a white man, and a white psychologist. I have to do the work to understand racism whether it is my own or institutional racism that is enacted by the systems within which I am embedded.
My very first semester at Antioch I took a class called “Dialogue and Difference” taught by the person who would eventually be my dissertation chair. It was one of my more profound experiences in graduate school. We spent a lot of time talking about how conservation, as it is usually thought of, is trying to convince someone to believe something other than what they already think. If I remember correctly, our professor traced the root of conversation down to percuss — to beat someone over the head with our ideas. So I’m not down with the idea in conversation like that. But dialogue, well that’s another story. I love that.
MC: And then there is silence. Sometimes silence is collusion. Sometimes it is active support that allows other voices to be heard.
JM: And sometimes silence is protection.
MC: Yes. I’m noticing the wish to be silent right now. It can be frightening, exposing to have this public dialogue. What will I miss? What mistakes will I make? Who might I hurt or anger? What might I learn about myself and others? And even though the information can move us further down the path of liberation – these can be painful lessons.
There are many ways in which professional psychologists & clinical social workers and the practice of psychotherapy can collude with systemic racism. But I believe that psychotherapy can also be radical form of empathy and a liberating force.
JM: Yes. I totally agree. I think there is a tension in psychotherapy, and especially clinical psychology (which I know best) between pressures of identifying the status quo (normal behavior) with seeking liberation. I experience this tension daily in my practice between tying to find way to help people conform to what they consider normal behavior (defined as behavior not representative as categories of psychiatric illness) and seeking liberation from punishing standards of “normal” behavior which are often rooted in racism, sexism, homonegativity, abelism, ageism, etc. etc. etc.
Just yesterday I was talking with someone and reframing psychiatric symptoms (in this case anxiety) as representative of normal responses to trauma. The trauma in this case was the experience of racist actions. The panic attacks suddenly became something much different when conceptualized as physical manifestations of the reexperience of racial violence.
MC: There are also, it seems to me, psychological realities that are omitted from social justice conversations – for example: a real psychological understanding of the implicit bias research and its implications. Which requires that we recognize that one of the effects and causes of systemic racism and anti-blackness are powerful and very real unconscious forces which inform or contaminate our snap-judgments, gut instincts, hunches, etc. impacting employment, policing, institutional access across the board, and which can have very violent external manifestations.
This requires an acceptance of the fact that we are largely unconscious beings – that there are and will always be impulses, fears, distortions, and prejudices, codes that have been uploaded by our culture, that exist in our machine, that we can’t completely eradicate, ever. This racist programming influences our choices and behaviors – the assumptions and expectations we have of others. En mass – these internalized biases become gatekeepers for our institutions and collectively our unconscious, implicit bias ends up crafting social policy.
JM: I find some therapists and patients have trouble responding and grappling with the unconscious. I like how you are also mixing in her cognitive behavioral imagery — codes. Many folks who don’t prefer imagery of the unconscious can get traction thinking about this when they think about computer codes that are running invisibly in the background.
I always thought I was supposed to acknowledge I am racist and sexist and homonegative and abelist and…. How could I not be? I’m a product of this society at this point in history. I feel powerful when I can own these things, name them, and work toward being more than what my limited society offers me.
MC: Yes, this is the work of a lifetime – its not a process that can ever be completed. That being said, you and I also both know that 1) some unconscious content can be surfaced and made more conscious and 2) that once made conscious of such implict programming we have a greater capacity to make choices and not be controlled, entirely, by our unconscious impulses.
And when client’s dream – especially white clients – but not exclusively for we all internalize these biases– you see the cultural coding emerge: a dream of being followed down a long street at night by a black man. A dream of being seduced by an Asian woman in a red dress. A dream of a black intruder breaking into the house. Consciously committed to anti-racism or not, white therapists have all absorbed the racism that exists in our cultural myths (ie: media) and stories. We drink in distorted and objectifying stereotypes and project out our own fears on to any group we perceive as “Other.”
JM: It now seems that many so-called progressive people are busy demonstrating how they are less racist than other people, or they are somehow more progressive (and thus better) and those “other” people. I find I have less and less time for this sort of sport because what gets hidden is the so-called progressives own implicit bias. None of us can exist outside of our bias laden society.
MC: Individually, in the confines of my office – I have the opportunity to address these oppressive forces: when I can hold and validate the grief, fear, and anger of black clients, and other clients of color. They have needed space to mourn, to rage, to tremble for their children. I hope, and maybe even believe, that making sure that my office is safe for those experiences can allow people to rest momentarily and refuel before heading back out into the fray.
JM: Shelter from the storm. And I imagine a white psychotherapist helping to create this shelter could be meaningful in ways that I can’t even begin to understand. I think of the ways in which my actions as a white psychologist hearing, attending, noticing, and opening discussing of racism and privilege might create some small amount of resilience and shelter for someone.
It doesn’t save the world, it doesn’t prevent violence, but I think this shelter can offer a profound and enduring validation that first transitional and later becomes an internalized and fully owned part of self.
MC: With clients of color and with black clients in particular at this historical crossroads – I can be receptive and respectful of the fact that there are parts of this experience that can never be contained, understood, or mirrored by a white therapist – and I’ve noticed the space for deeper breaths that is created when I state that explicitly.
This is a conversation that has been very active in my caseload since Trayvon Martin was killed – and part of my obligation is to respect that I benefit from a system that is terrorizing others. After Zimmerman walked free, a client had a dream about a sick black baby, near death, locked inside of an expensive white car and no one was paying attention. While I, as a therapist, am the one who is being specifically called upon to care for that crying sickened baby I am also one of many who holds the keys to the fancy white car.
JM: I like this dream. I also like the idea of working to unlock the doors.
A patient of mine, a person of color, asked if it was okay they cancelled their appointment the night of a protest in Boston. They offered to pay my missed session fee. I told them I was proud of them for wanting to go, that their presence was important, and that I felt the world was a better place because this was happening. After I hung up the phone I cried thinking about what it would have meant to have this person give me so much money so they could go to a protest, and what privilege was involved in that, and how awful it made me feel.
MC: Okay now: here is the confusing part.
There are those that are actively engaged in processing their implicit bias and their participation in systemic privileges – who understand that this is ongoing work, the work of a lifetime, and is never done. We can engage in critical self-examination together.
And then, there are many people who have never once spoken about race in therapy- who are now suddenly talking about their response to Eric Garner’s death, to the protests. Sometimes they are shaken, experiencing the first wave of the unfolding crisis of realizing that their experiences as white people are not universal for all Americans. Sometimes they are angry or reactionary, or complaining about the inconvenience of the protests or fearful of the up swell of public passion and emotion.
And there are those who have made no mention of it, no reference to it at all.
I try to remember when I was fearful confused and overwhelmed by the protests in Los Angeles that followed Rodney King’s beating, and all that I did not yet understand. I try to ask thoughtful questions that activate compassion and self-awareness in these client. It is a narrow line to walk, to have empathy for the fear, or upset or avoidance – while still challenging it – and to face the unprocessed racism in my white clients as reminder of my own, past and present.
JM: I love the idea of being curious–shining the spotlight of my attention and curiosity on a particular topic. I try to do that when I see or experience something that seems like racism or unexamined privilege. I get super curious about what I hear, and wonder aloud why someone experiences or thinks something that they think, or share what I experience and think. My patients make fun of me because they always know when I’m moving in toward something because I say “I wonder…..”
MC: That is an extremely helpful idea and reminder for me. To approach with a sense of true curiosity – about the formative experiences and notions behind these beliefs. And to let my curiosity make them curious too – to let it begin to question, to challenge the premises underneath these beliefs
JM: I notice people are anxious and scared. I notice that white people don’t have a lot of resources and supports to safely talk about these anxieties and fears. I notice there aren’t a lot of supports of people to learn and share their experiences in a way that they (a) don’t hurt other people and (b) don’t get hurt by other people. I see people directing a lot of anger (understandable anger!) toward folks who are enacting their racism. I’m not so sure public shaming without the provision of tools is helpful. I think people need to also have access to tools to understand their experiences and how they have come to have racist thoughts and notions.
I think of it a bit like coming out. I spent some significant resources of time and thought thinking about my sexuality. When I was a young teen and came out I expected people to be where I was at, right away, and had little tolerance for people and their own process. It occurred to me that not everyone has spent so much time thinking about sexuality. I had to find ways to give people a break so they can have their own process–and had to find a way to keep myself safe.
I think about this a lot with racism. People of color have lived their whole life in a racist system. It is something they experience every day, with every action, in ways that I cannot even begin to understand. I think of folks who are just discovering racism — and are totally unprepared for the process they are about ready to experience. When white folks grow up embedded in racist institutions and racist communities where have they developed a critical consciousness to explore these things? Where have they developed a community that can help them support their own process of growth and development.
Of course, I think white people are responsible for figuring this out for themselves. I think it’s my job to think about my racism in a place that protects people of color from being damaged by my own process.
MC: I am hearing a great deal about relationships damaged and friendships broken by the unconscious, unexamined and biased opinions or rigid identification white privilege on social media.
I know that my own relationships with old friends extended family members changed dramatically when I became when I became a transracially adoptive parent – and I see many people having to reorganize their own boundaries and expectations about the previously latent racism that is showing up on their friends timelines.
I have clients who’ve had to block or unfriend family members for self-care
Other have engaged in challenging conversations – which can painful, and result in loss.
And I’ve also heard of a handful of satisfying conversations where an online friend is open to ideas that are new to them.
What are your thoughts about this?
JM: I think we do the best we can. I think we all have to find what our limits are, and make sure we aren’t exposed to ugliness that we cannot process, handle, or currently lacking the resources to metabolize. I wish we had more tools to invite people back into fellowship and community with us after they’ve done their own work. There is so much polarized us/them conflict that I worry we will faction off into smaller and smaller communities and lose our connections to our larger society and world.
The other day on my facebook page I told someone I would not agree to disagree. I knew I’d end a relationship saying that. It was important for me to take a stand against throwing people way and creating a group of people who were voiceless.
A mentor of mine always talked about spending privilege, and the choices about how we spend it. I hope I’m a big spender, that I make wise investments, and that I continue to find ways to offer it freely. As far as I can tell, the society around me and history behind me has given me a supply of privilege that cannot be exhausted. I’ve decided to make my life about spending it in the service of helping the hurt, lost, and forgotten stand on my shoulders and make themselves be heard.
MC: Yes. We can spend privilege – but we can abuse it, and we must also consider how and when we can rescind it too. I practice martial arts, and often have a practice weapon – usually a sword that I work with in the park adjacent to the federal courthouse near my home. I’ve had that privilege. Young white cops occasionally approach me – and I show them that my sword is plastic, foldable. They say how great that I do this at my age –
JM: Ouch. A woman of your age.
MC: Yeah, no kidding – and they tell me to keep it up that they wish their mothers would do something like this – and they walk on. When Darrian Hunt was killed – a biracial black man was killed for carrying a fake practice sword on the street, just exactly as I have done many times I decided that it was an abuse of privilege and now I practice with a stick, or simply imagine a sword. Does this change the world? Does this overturn centuries of systemic exploitation and oppression? Certainly not. But it undermines its hold on my own perceptions. When we can’t dismantle destructive systems, we can at least try not to reinforce them.
I think white people need to consider carefully how they spend their privilege. Sometimes it means letting someone stand on my shoulders so they can shout louder. Sometimes it means getting out of the way. Sometimes it means standing up and giving voice to those who cannot be heard or do not yet have the skills to be heard. Sometimes it means waiting quietly until someone is ready to listen.
Most of all, I think about who the audience is. If I’m in an all white environment then I’m more likely to be louder and more forcefully in my wonderings and thinkings. If I am around people of color I’m more likely to work toward figuring out how I can be supportive of the work they are doing.
Unless of course someone’s humanity is getting denied. Then I’m likely to get myself into trouble.
My first dissertation chair spent a lot of time thinking and research about allies.
She thought it was important allies had a space to talk about things outside of the view of the community that they were allies to. I think it’s important that white people have places to discuss our racism, our participation in racism, our unawareness of racism, and the ways in which we’ve benefited from a racist system.
I’ve heard from people who’ve tried to set up setting like this and have been attacked for being racist.
MC: I think this is what is daunting to so many – that there is no way to actually “do it right” – there is no way, no path, no action we can take that we can be assured will result in our feeling “good” or “right.” We fear failure, and the consequences to ourselves and others. And if there is anything that being a therapist has taught me it is that failure is inevitable. There is not a single case I have treated in 20 years where I “did it right” and was perfectly attuned. I fumble, I flail, and I have to apologize humble myself again and learn from it. I used to have a George Bernard Shaw quote on my wall that read: “You have just learned something, and that always feels at first, as though you have just lost something.”
JM: And because of my commitment to not throwing people away, I’m also working hard to call people back into connection to me if they are willing.
So much work to do.
Two new chapters are available at The 45 Dreams Project:
I have collected and sorted over 3000 dreams about Donald Trump and the Trump administration through this blog, private emails, personal communications, and via the @45dreamsproject twitter feed. I will be sharing the themes and patterns that have emerged on this site, one chapter each month:
There has been a great deal of speculation about Trump’s mental and legal competency. News articles, op-ed writers and Ivy League professors analyze his impulsivity, and his compulsive lying. Speech analysts examine his verbal skills and idiosyncratic use of language for signs of decline or dementia.
Last night I dreamt that we were all forced to go to a Trump event and at the end we all got his autograph, but he misspelled Donald as Dinald on everyone’s poster of his face.[i]
This chapter focuses on just two dreams, both fairly lengthy, remarkably similar and yet diametrically opposed:
I’m backstage, and have infiltrated a President Trump rally. He’s giving his usual boisterous speech to an adoring crowd. I’m on his right, crouched down, and I can see him through the wings…
If you would like to start from the beginning here is where it begins:
In some patients who had turned away from their mother in dislike or hate, or used some other mechanism to get away from her, I have found that there existed in their minds nevertheless a beautiful picture of the mother, but one which was felt be a picture of her only, not her real self. The real object was felt to be unattractive – really an injured incurable, and therefore dreaded person. The beautiful picture had been dissociated from the real object but had never been given up and played a great part in the specific ways of their sublimations. ~ Melanie Klien, A Contribution to the Psychogenesis of Manic Depressive States,
We’d tempted fate.
We hadn’t meant to. Just feeling our oats, enjoying our lives, our home, our neighborhood, our careers, and our children. We were pleased with our bank accounts – our retirement looked reasonable enough for self-employed late bloomers, and the college funds were starting to accrue. The children were thriving, our marriage was in a good place. We had beloved friends, my mother had moved nearby to help with childcare and take on the tasks of an everyday grandmother.
We were healthy and fit – we were walking vigorously together in fact, in laps around the park before splitting off into our personal daily workout: I would practice bagua tai chi, and meditate, David would go run a few miles. It was spring, still wearing light sweat shirts, and the ground was damp and spongey.
We loved our work: both of us psychotherapists – we shared an office and had full and thriving practices. We were desirable. Effective. Non-traditional – maybe even a little renegade and rebellious. Our clients found our style direct, demystifying, refreshing….
To continue reading click here.
I’ve just published a little eBooklet!
As a psychotherapist, teacher, writer and clinical supervisor for the past twenty-five years, Martha Crawford LCSW has sought to make the sometimes esoteric writings of C. G Jung accessible and practical for her clients, other therapists and laypeople. This eBook collection of nine teaching essays – drawn and edited from The What a Shrink Thinks Seminar subscription series – explores Jungian ideas such as: archetype, the collective unconscious, active imagination and the relationship between myth and dreaming in ways that are both approachable and applicable to daily life.
(Please note that if you are already a Seminar subscriber, you have online access to almost all of this eBook content as part of your current subscription)
I recently had the chance to speak with Jeremy Hobson on WBUR’s Here and Now, broadcast on NPR.
We spoke about public failure, censure and shaming and our collective challenges moving through the processes of healthy guilt.
If you would like to listen or read more please click here.
Two new chapters are available from the 45 Dreams Project:
“The purpose of this chapter is not to diagnose, but to examine the themes of grandiosity and inflation – as demonstrated by approximately twenty-three dreams in this collection- which are focused on the current president as a titular manifestation of our national hubris…”
“Nature corrects our course and sets limits on our accomplishments and our failures just as the sea and atmosphere and the sun do. If our conscious ego becomes expanded and moves toward inflated imbalance, the pendulum of the unconscious swings toward deflation and humiliation. This chapter examines the themes that emerge in approximately fifty-seven dreams of humiliation and debasement.”
For those who would like to start at the beginning:
As far back as 1918 I published a paper in which I called the attention of my contemporaries to astounding development in the German edition of the collective unconscious. I had caught hold of certain collective dreams of Germans which convinced me that they portrayed the beginning of a national regression analogous to the regression of a frightened and helpless individual, becoming first infantile and then primitive or archaic. I saw Nietzsche’s “blond beast” looming up with all that it implies” ~ C.G. Jung, Psychology and National Problems, CW, loc 250564
I will be posting one chapter each month at 45dreamsproject.com which you may follow directly and I will post occasional updates here at What a Shrink Thinks as well.
“Let’s listen in and see if we can hear the wisdom of the collective unconscious… “
Sharing an essay I wrote for the First Person series at Vox:
White people are doing a lot of soul-searching these days.
Democratic Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam, who recently admitted to wearing blackface in a Michael Jackson impersonation competition, just announced that he’s going on a “listening tour” to learn about racism. Actor Liam Neeson admitted to wanting to commit a racist murder in his youth, saying, “It was horrible, horrible, when I think back, that I did that.”
I’ve been thinking about the complexities around confession and forgiveness. As a psychotherapist for 25 years who has worked immersed in issues of race and racism, I believe it is important for white people to find spaces where we can name our past racist failures and identify the ways we have been both contaminated by racist systems and have perpetrated racist acts.
Click here to continue reading…
You haven’t heard much from me at this blog – unless you are a subscriber to the online reading group/Seminar essays – because I have been working hard sorting and writing about the 3000 or so dreams about our current president that I have collected at the 45 Dreams Project.
I will be releasing a new chapter each month at the projects new webpage – and I invite you to click over to read Chapter One – which explains how I came to start this project, how I understand dream work and my thoughts about “interpretation” and the wider perspective that dream collections can offer us into our collective and unconscious response to a troubled era. If you find the project interesting and want to read along, I encourage you to sign up to follow 45 Dreams Project so that you will receive a monthly notice when the new chapters are released.
Here is an excerpt:
It started with my own dream, as so many things do in my world, a month or so before the 2016 presidential election:
A friend, who has worked with various celebrities as a personal assistant and a dresser called: He was leaving town, and needed me to cover for him. “Its easy!” he said, “you just have to stop by and feed him – I’ve left everything out with a note!” He gave me an address that leads to the top floor of a six floor walk up apartment building.
When I arrived, I unlocked the door, unsure of who or what I would be feeding. The door opened into a family/television room – the curtains drawn, a large TV blaring on the wall. On the glass coffee table sat a large metal dog bowl. A bag of kibble sat near the door. And on the sofa, Donald Trump, in a large adult diaper, sat sleeping with his chin on his chest. I filled the bowl with nuggets and slid it toward him on the table. As I looked at him sleeping, I was filled with disgust, and then flooded with pity. He is obviously sick. Disabled. Infantile and senile. Feeble. Something was profoundly wrong with him. He then woke and without acknowledging me in any way, began gobbling the food, chewing loudly with his mouth open.
I decide that it would be too cruel to let him just starve to death, but at least he was contained – as he could never be able to walk up or down all those stairs. I did the bare minimum for him, only what I would offer to any stranger, any human being. I got him a cheap pre-paid flip phone for emergencies only. All his previous handlers abandoned him, he seems a debilitated pawn, whose delusions, phobias and bigotries were being exploited. Yet somehow despite his incompetence he was still able to head an effective, angry, divisive, xenophobic campaign.
I woke, both disturbed and confused by the dream. It seemed to confront me with the ways that it was easier for me to think of Trump and Trumpism as “sick” and “not responsible” for his actions. I suspected it was a dream that compensated for the conscious anger and horror I felt as I watched and took what action I could to push back against xenophobic campaign rhetoric and negotiated the daily barrage of lies.
I also noted the dream’s warning that my wish to be a good kind person kept the campaign regularly “fed.” The belief that he was “contained” and “feeble” and should be treated with the same basic concern as “any human being” in distress – seemed to provide the movement a with a life-line, and offered just enough assistance to allow his campaign to flourish.
I thought about how difficult it is to discern “sick” from “bad” – that the course of normal empathy seems to lean towards offering deviant behavior the benefit of a doubt, assuming that it emerges out of illness and suffering – eliciting pity and making excuses for “bad” and immoral behavior. The dream pressed me to confront my own complicity, my desire to consciously view Trumpism and the resurgence of right wing extremism as something aging, feeble, and powerless – nothing to take seriously. A wish to relax out of my own assertive impulses left me with an inability to confront regressive, propagandist messages. My dream-ego confronted me with an image of myself as someone who could unwittingly feed a virulent movement.
It was a dream of complicity, of the bonds of empathy and common humanity exploited. It was also a dream that revealed a desire to let my guard down, and the potential consequences. And certainly I was not the only one experiencing this bind as we headed toward an election that no one I knew imagined he could ever win. The comfortable certainty surrounding me frightened me even more.
When he won, I was not surprised.
To continue reading – click here:
I also want to let you know that I have opened a new dream collection – Climate Dreams – gathering dreams of climate breakdown and our psyche’s response to the crises of global warming.
If you, or someone you know, would like to share such a dream – you may simply leave a comment on the Climate Dreams blog page – all dreams will be stripped of identifying information before they are made public. Additionally, I am gathering and retweeting climate related dreams shared publicly at the Twitter account @Climatedreams . You may also email dreams to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Every once in a while i feel compelled to dash off some writing that I don’t know what to do with – so I put it at my other blog at Subtext Consultations and release it to the wild for it to do whatever it is supposed to do on its own.
You can read it over there if you like by clicking below:
illustration by the brilliant Cranky Muse Projects
I learned yesterday that a dear friend, colleague and collaborator, Jason Evan Mihalko, Psy.D. died last week.
I first contacted Jason after I came across a stunningly brave series of essays he had written after surviving a client’s suicide, and quickly we became fellow advocates for a new kind of transparency in our profession and the value of psychotherapeutic perspectives in our national social conversation.
He was a brave, loving, radically compassionate, fierce and funny man, who will be dearly missed by the thousands of people whose lives he impacted.
But his words, at The Irreverent Psychologist should speak for him. His beautiful series of essays: “Dear Young Therapist” remind us all of the core values that sit at the heart of this impossible profession.
And this is from my favorite of those essays:
I’m old enough to no longer care how my fellow psychologists evaluate me. I’m skilled enough to know how to wield these twin tools of relational growth and change within the safe boundaries of a therapeutic relationship.
I’m thankful that I’ve never met a patient that I couldn’t love or couldn’t learn to love. It’s from that space that I begin to see the seeds of where a person might be able to go, grow, and let go. It’s from that space that I can find the confidence to let go of wanting a patient to be something I need them to be (or society needs them to be) and let them go about finding what they need themselves to be.
Still, young therapist, I don’t frequently tell my patients that I love them. It is often dangerous and disruptive to use the word. Patients can become incredibly confused and conflicted. Too many therapists also become confused and conflicted.
Just because love is dangerous, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be thought about.
I am not afraid to love and to say that I do when a moment of genuine honesty is the best intervention. Don’t forget this, young therapist. Don’t forget that our work is built on a foundation of faith in humanity and love of the person who sits across from you.
Please go read this series and explore his blog if you haven’t.
I don’t know if this blog, What a Shrink Thinks, would exist if I hadn’t met Jason. He made me feel braver as I stuck my nose out into an online world and we made joyful noise together.
If you want to hear us gabbing and laughing our fool heads off you can listen in to the one podcast we had a chance to record before life took a detour that derailed us.
And if you feel so moved, please consider making a donation in his memory here.
Grateful for all that he gave. Words fail me.