Beyond the Armchair
I am not an “expert” in what it means to be a counselor/therapist/psychotherapist. Every counselor practices in their way, with their strengths and growth edges, so I speak for myself.
I LOVE WHAT I DO. It is an honor to meet people, to listen to stories, to connect and hopefully offer something along the way.
I am, also, acutely aware of my faults.
I make mistakes inside of the therapeutic relationship. I ruminate on that thing I said Tuesday @ 4:18: worry that I got it wrong, or was insensitive, missed or rushed the point, talked too much or too little. I often have executive function fails that cause me to miss a call, or even an appointment (if you need a hyper organized therapist, I may not be for you.. Though I will model a hefty amount of self compassion and flexibility 😉) Sometimes it feels like I keep my mind and mouth on a taut leash, and even then I ramble, and ramble, and ramble.
You see, just like my clients, I want to be understood (and seen) as I intend. The art and ever-learning in my practice is how to keep my internal chatter quiet. It’s one of the hardest things to learn as a counselor and often the thing I find myself apologizing for on behalf of my profession.
My clients are not one size fits all, not a worksheet or a head nod. I worry about what came up last session, how xyz went, which strategies helped. I wonder how they are after our time together is done. I hope they know I’m here if they need anything in the future. That they’d call before it gets too hard, hopeless, or lonely.
There’s a lot of loneliness in the world. There are other themes as well:
That communication is hard. No matter age, history, or love for one another.
That we all have blind spots. Try as we might, we don’t see them. Even therapists, even that super smart PhD you loved in college, even pastors, even parents, even partners, even parents. We all have blind spots.
That the overuse of language can strip its power (no, not every selfish act is narcissistic & yes, I believe narcissists are real)
That we all ache to be seen, heard, and validated in our pain. And say stupid stuff to others in pain, too.
And really, that everyone has something.
And seriously, no one is okay right now. In our increasingly online world, a world with gun violence, increasing polarity, genocide, AI , global warming… We are in pain. We were not meant to hold this much, to carry this much, to be aware instantaneously of the collective suffering of the world. I am not suggesting we turn a blind eye to suffering, rather, that the rate at which we intake information makes us less effective at coping, mobilizing, joining in a way to observe our impact on change.
We are in a world of online therapy, weaponized therapy speak, wellness ‘culture’. As we slip away from the older- and often outdated- models of community I sense a gap in connection that certainly doesn’t aid, and often outright feeds, the sense of separation
As a result? A strong reinforcer how adrift we all feel. How much grief circles the planet right now
Therapists are one way to navigate this gap, but only one way. We need each other. We need community.
In my armchair - therapists carry loss, and pain, and grief. Megan Devine, a licensed psychotherapist dedicated to grief work, emphasizes that inside grief tending can be incredibly healing. A plant, a pet, a cake… your time in the shower. I find this the most invaluable piece of my practice, over and over again: tending as a licensed professional counselor keeps my life’s things in perspective. I am not alone. I get to see how people can change. How I have changed and continue to change.
I can only imagine what I will write 10 years from now. I hope I hold onto some of these points, but more than that hope that I’ve grown and remain humble. Ever grateful to every human & story - and their choice to share it with me.
