This blog entry is intentionally brief. It contains a simple concrete suggestion that is very symbolic in its purpose and potentially multi-layered in its impact. Hopefully, as a reader, you do not find it simplistic.
Whenever my patients use the word "but" in the narrative that describes their thoughts and feelings I encourage them to substitute the word "and". "But" is a word that tens to negate or diminish what preceded it, whereas "and" connotes inclusiveness and coexistence. My intention is to help my clients develop an inner landscape wherein conflictual, sometimes polar opposite, thoughts and feelings can be contained with less tension and more respectful coexistence.
Some examples. Often my patients say,"I feel like I did a good job, but …." and then give a list of reasons why it was not perfect. The positive feeling gets negated or diminished by whatever follows after "but". Other clients describing a spouse/lover/friend say "I love/like ___ but …." and then tell about some annoying or hated characteristics or opposite feelings. Again the love/like gets lost or weakened by the litany of complaints.
Usually I will encourage my patients to substitute "and" for "but" by saying to themselves "I did a good job and I could also have …." as away of counteracting the inner notion That I can't feel good about what I've done unless it lives up to perfectionistic standards. I recommend to other patients to say to themselves "I love my lover/spouse/friend and I hate when he …." as a way of acknowledging and honoring the coexistence of opposite feelings about the same person.
Gradually the use of this simple substitution - in conjunction with our deeper work -becomes a useful tool to expand their capacity to have many complex feelings coexisting within their consciousness.
Showing posts with label Life Coaches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life Coaches. Show all posts
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Monday, December 23, 2013
THE TOOLBOX
Most of the Patients in my current psychotherapy practice are men. At this stage of the evolution of my professional life, 71 years old with four decades of experience as a psychologist,I have a strong desire to help men navigate the complexity of their emotional relationships with their partners and their children. I view it as a mentoring role within the therapeutic relationship. Most of my patients had fathers and other men in their lives who had limited skills for dealing with emotionally-laden situations.
In talking with my patients about this I find the iconic male image of "the toolbox" a very useful metaphor.For example, during a recent session with Hal, who at 38 is floundering in his efforts to connect emotionally with his wife and two daughters,I said "When your father reached into his emotional toolbox he found only two tools - advice-giving and the hammer of anger. Part of what I will try to do is to give you some additional tools." He smiled and nodded his head. This is a fairly typical exchange. We live in an era in which men are encouraged to connect more with their inner emotional landscape and to enter more into the realm of the heart in their relationships with their partners and their children. However, they have been raised by fathers, grandfathers and uncles from another era. So, while there is a cultural permission to define masculinity in a different way, they still have few models of what that actually means.
When discussing expanding their emotional skills I put my left hand over the edge of my chair, reach down to the floor and say, "Imagine yourself reaching into your toolbox and selecting the right tool that is needed for this situation." Oftentimes men will say that they feel helpless because they don't know what to do. My respond usually is "Often she doesn't need you to do anything. She needs you to be....Sometimes that means being an attentive listener who doesn't interrupt or give advice. Sometimes that means she needs you to be in your heart and not your problem-solving head - to be an open-hearted compassionate presence. Sometimes the tool you need is patience - to give your partner or child the gift of your time while something unfolds." We also talk about being a provider, which is certainly an archetypal male role. The use of that term resonates with my patients at very deep levels of consciousness. However, I'm talking about being a provider not only of their external needs, but also of their inner needs. That means asking the question, "What does my partner or child need from me at this moment to nurture their inner life. Do they need a warm soothing voice, encouragement, some affectionate touch, praise, celebration of an accomplishment ....?
As a way of reminding my patients to respond from their hearts to these emotional situations I recommend to them that they gently touch the breastplate at the center of their chests and do some meditational breathing. I suggest that they tap that spot for several minutes before they enter their home or apartment as a reminder to shift from the problem-solving mode that their work usually requires to the more open-hearted presence that their home life needs. I also encourage them to do that gentle tapping of their heart area during emotional situations at home so that they can respond from the realm of their emotional hearts.
This blog entry is based on the MEN chapter of my book "Working From the Heart:A Therapist's Guide to Heart-Centered Psychotherapy"
In talking with my patients about this I find the iconic male image of "the toolbox" a very useful metaphor.For example, during a recent session with Hal, who at 38 is floundering in his efforts to connect emotionally with his wife and two daughters,I said "When your father reached into his emotional toolbox he found only two tools - advice-giving and the hammer of anger. Part of what I will try to do is to give you some additional tools." He smiled and nodded his head. This is a fairly typical exchange. We live in an era in which men are encouraged to connect more with their inner emotional landscape and to enter more into the realm of the heart in their relationships with their partners and their children. However, they have been raised by fathers, grandfathers and uncles from another era. So, while there is a cultural permission to define masculinity in a different way, they still have few models of what that actually means.
When discussing expanding their emotional skills I put my left hand over the edge of my chair, reach down to the floor and say, "Imagine yourself reaching into your toolbox and selecting the right tool that is needed for this situation." Oftentimes men will say that they feel helpless because they don't know what to do. My respond usually is "Often she doesn't need you to do anything. She needs you to be....Sometimes that means being an attentive listener who doesn't interrupt or give advice. Sometimes that means she needs you to be in your heart and not your problem-solving head - to be an open-hearted compassionate presence. Sometimes the tool you need is patience - to give your partner or child the gift of your time while something unfolds." We also talk about being a provider, which is certainly an archetypal male role. The use of that term resonates with my patients at very deep levels of consciousness. However, I'm talking about being a provider not only of their external needs, but also of their inner needs. That means asking the question, "What does my partner or child need from me at this moment to nurture their inner life. Do they need a warm soothing voice, encouragement, some affectionate touch, praise, celebration of an accomplishment ....?
As a way of reminding my patients to respond from their hearts to these emotional situations I recommend to them that they gently touch the breastplate at the center of their chests and do some meditational breathing. I suggest that they tap that spot for several minutes before they enter their home or apartment as a reminder to shift from the problem-solving mode that their work usually requires to the more open-hearted presence that their home life needs. I also encourage them to do that gentle tapping of their heart area during emotional situations at home so that they can respond from the realm of their emotional hearts.
This blog entry is based on the MEN chapter of my book "Working From the Heart:A Therapist's Guide to Heart-Centered Psychotherapy"
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Accessing Our Big Hearts
Once our work day begins we are in the psychological field of whatever each patient brings to us that day. Sometimes what they bring feels enormous and overwhelming: profound sadness or despair, terror or unrelenting anxiety, tremendous rage, or, a huge void. When our patients experience these big feeling states, there is a palpable shift in the energy in the room. In the presence of these states it is understandable that our first response, often unconscious, is to constrict our emotional hearts as a way of protecting ourselves from being overwhelmed.
On some days there is something occurring in our own lives that makes it very difficult for us to be compassionately present. We are feeling miserable because we have a heavy chest cold or did not sleep well. We're worried about how we are going to pay that huge doctor's bill or this month's rent. We had a big argument with our spouse or partner or adolescent daughter this morning.
Under these circumstances we may wonder how are we going to get through this evening's work and be present to our patients. In these moments it is important to remember that we all have Big Hearts that are able to transcend the limitations of the small hearts of our ordinary consciousness. How we understand the source of this Big Heart will depend on our cosmology. Yet we all know about the existence of these aspects of our consciousness from personal experience. We all have these periodic moments when we transcend our ordinary love and feel a much larger love for our spouse/partner, for our child, for a dear friend, for a particular place, for a beloved animal, for ..... These are Big Heart moments. From my perspective my Big Heart is an aspect of my Higher Self. Someone else might postulate that this larger love emanates from their personal Higher Power or Buddha Nature or Christ Consciousness or .....
The important pragmatic question is how do we access his Big Heart during psychotherapy or counseling sessions? I think that it is very helpful to have some image of this larger heart that uniquely fits for us. Many years ago my wife, Jeanne, gave me a piece of California redwood that had been carved into the wizened face of a bearded old man. I keep this carving in my office in a corner behind my patient's chair as an iconic image of my old friend Wiseheart, my name for my personal Higher Self. I think of Wiseheart as the Big Heart aspect of my consciousness. he is also the container of the enlarged compassion that has developed through my life experiences and the conduit for other sources of deep compassion and wisdom that are available to me through the collective unconscious. I encourage my patients and supervisees to develop their own personal image of their Big Heart. Until that emerges I suggest that they imagine a larger emotional heart that is located near their physical heart.
About five or ten minutes before the beginning of my first session, I use a small wooden hammer to tap an antique Chinese bell that sits on the floor inside my office door. This tapping ritual is a symbolic reminder that my intention is to enter a psychological space that is different from the concerns of my everyday life. Then I look at the carving of Wiseheart, imagining that I am connecting to my Big Heart and then I do some meditational breathing. Then I open the door to welcome my first patient.
During sessions whenever I begin to feel overwhelmed by the bigness of the feeling states that my patient is experiencing or I start to feel myself becoming emotionally distant I again look at the carving of Wiseheart and do the meditational breathing. At these moments I feel that with the in breath I am connecting to my Big Heart and with the out breath I am releasing the energetic vibrations of my patient's large feelings. Then they do not penetrate the field of my consciousness. I can continue to be a compassionate presence for that person and the next and the next. At the end of a morning/evening of work I do not feel depleted.
I encourage you to adapt these notions about our Big Hearts to your individual cosmology and ways of working.
These ideas are described more fully in the Small Heart, Big Heart chapter of my book Working From the Heart, A Therapist's Guide to Heart-Centered Psychotherapy
On some days there is something occurring in our own lives that makes it very difficult for us to be compassionately present. We are feeling miserable because we have a heavy chest cold or did not sleep well. We're worried about how we are going to pay that huge doctor's bill or this month's rent. We had a big argument with our spouse or partner or adolescent daughter this morning.
Under these circumstances we may wonder how are we going to get through this evening's work and be present to our patients. In these moments it is important to remember that we all have Big Hearts that are able to transcend the limitations of the small hearts of our ordinary consciousness. How we understand the source of this Big Heart will depend on our cosmology. Yet we all know about the existence of these aspects of our consciousness from personal experience. We all have these periodic moments when we transcend our ordinary love and feel a much larger love for our spouse/partner, for our child, for a dear friend, for a particular place, for a beloved animal, for ..... These are Big Heart moments. From my perspective my Big Heart is an aspect of my Higher Self. Someone else might postulate that this larger love emanates from their personal Higher Power or Buddha Nature or Christ Consciousness or .....
The important pragmatic question is how do we access his Big Heart during psychotherapy or counseling sessions? I think that it is very helpful to have some image of this larger heart that uniquely fits for us. Many years ago my wife, Jeanne, gave me a piece of California redwood that had been carved into the wizened face of a bearded old man. I keep this carving in my office in a corner behind my patient's chair as an iconic image of my old friend Wiseheart, my name for my personal Higher Self. I think of Wiseheart as the Big Heart aspect of my consciousness. he is also the container of the enlarged compassion that has developed through my life experiences and the conduit for other sources of deep compassion and wisdom that are available to me through the collective unconscious. I encourage my patients and supervisees to develop their own personal image of their Big Heart. Until that emerges I suggest that they imagine a larger emotional heart that is located near their physical heart.
About five or ten minutes before the beginning of my first session, I use a small wooden hammer to tap an antique Chinese bell that sits on the floor inside my office door. This tapping ritual is a symbolic reminder that my intention is to enter a psychological space that is different from the concerns of my everyday life. Then I look at the carving of Wiseheart, imagining that I am connecting to my Big Heart and then I do some meditational breathing. Then I open the door to welcome my first patient.
During sessions whenever I begin to feel overwhelmed by the bigness of the feeling states that my patient is experiencing or I start to feel myself becoming emotionally distant I again look at the carving of Wiseheart and do the meditational breathing. At these moments I feel that with the in breath I am connecting to my Big Heart and with the out breath I am releasing the energetic vibrations of my patient's large feelings. Then they do not penetrate the field of my consciousness. I can continue to be a compassionate presence for that person and the next and the next. At the end of a morning/evening of work I do not feel depleted.
I encourage you to adapt these notions about our Big Hearts to your individual cosmology and ways of working.
These ideas are described more fully in the Small Heart, Big Heart chapter of my book Working From the Heart, A Therapist's Guide to Heart-Centered Psychotherapy
Friday, December 14, 2012
It's Important for Psychotherapists and Counselors to Share Aspects of Our Personal Stories
There are many situations in which our clients benefit from us sharing relevant aspects of our personal stories.Yet for some psychotherapists and counselors revealing any aspects of their lives feels unprofessional. As an elder with over 38 years experience in private practice I am advocating that - for the sake of our clients - we slog through those personal and professional issues that might prevent us from disclosing.
Certainly there are good reasons why there are cautions or, in some schools of thought, prohibitions regarding talking about ourselves. There are instances where some psychotherapists/counselors are allowing their own personal neediness, narcissism or countertransference issues to intrude into the therapy. In those instances it would be very important for the psychotherapist/counselor to reflect,"Why am I doing so much sharing?" or "Why am I talking about myself so much with this client?" And to bring that question into their own therapy.
There are traditions of psychotherapy theory that stipulate that the therapist should not share their personal narratives because that will interfere with the transference. In those theoretical perspectives the working through of the transference is the core wherein real change occurs and self-disclosure potentially could contaminate the work. As someone who was trained in the traditional psychoanalytic model my experience suggests otherwise - that transference remains a potent force that still occurs even after I share relevant aspects of my life.
My Experiences
Early in my work I had quite a few adult patients who came from family backgrounds with an alcoholic parent. Often the therapy seemed to stagnate. I decided to take the risk and share that my father was an alcoholic. My patients were grateful for the heartfelt empathic connection. They opened up more and felt more hopeful. Their therapist not only knew what it felt like to be the child of an alcoholic, but also had recovered from the traumas of that experience. For those patients, the professionally distant,non-revealing therapeutic stance of the psychoanalytic method was too reminiscent of their depriving and often emotionally unavailable parents.
Twice in my life - in my early thirties and at the age of fifty - I experienced periods of suicidal ideation. I never acted upon these thoughts, but I experienced the toxic mixture of despair and self-hatred that leads to the thoughts that death is the only way out. When I have patients who are suicidal, at some point I usually share with them that I too have experienced that state. This helps them to know that I am not judging them and I feel compassionate towards them. I am also offering myself as a beacon of hope in the darkness. I often say, "There is no pressure on you to be hopeful. I will carry the hope until it reawakens in you"
Seven years ago I had a very aggressive form of lymphoma. A friend of mine, another psychologist in his early sixties, who was being treated for another form of lymphoma, died during the time I was receiving chemo. That sent me a very cogent message about what the disease could do. Although my recovery has gone very well, I live with the possibility that the cancer could return at any time and this time it may take me. As a result, death is my daily companion and informs my decisions every day. My sharing of this experience has deepened my empathic connection to patients who are struggling with serious illness and their own mortality. It makes them feel that their therapist is both a professional and a human being who has a genuine heartfelt sense of what they are going through.
For those of us who do this healing work these difficult times in our lives expand our hearts and increase our capacity for compassionate caring. When we open our hearts and disclose these aspects of our journey that are relevant to their suffering our patients feel that compassion more palpably and more deeply. They feel us connecting to them as both professionals and fellow human beings.
From my perspective there is one caveat to our talking about our own lives. I am initially quite cautious about talking about myself with clients who had narcissistic parents. because this can evoke such a strong transference reaction that might cause them to terminate the work, I usually share only after they have internalized a sense that I genuinely care about them
Certainly there are good reasons why there are cautions or, in some schools of thought, prohibitions regarding talking about ourselves. There are instances where some psychotherapists/counselors are allowing their own personal neediness, narcissism or countertransference issues to intrude into the therapy. In those instances it would be very important for the psychotherapist/counselor to reflect,"Why am I doing so much sharing?" or "Why am I talking about myself so much with this client?" And to bring that question into their own therapy.
There are traditions of psychotherapy theory that stipulate that the therapist should not share their personal narratives because that will interfere with the transference. In those theoretical perspectives the working through of the transference is the core wherein real change occurs and self-disclosure potentially could contaminate the work. As someone who was trained in the traditional psychoanalytic model my experience suggests otherwise - that transference remains a potent force that still occurs even after I share relevant aspects of my life.
My Experiences
Early in my work I had quite a few adult patients who came from family backgrounds with an alcoholic parent. Often the therapy seemed to stagnate. I decided to take the risk and share that my father was an alcoholic. My patients were grateful for the heartfelt empathic connection. They opened up more and felt more hopeful. Their therapist not only knew what it felt like to be the child of an alcoholic, but also had recovered from the traumas of that experience. For those patients, the professionally distant,non-revealing therapeutic stance of the psychoanalytic method was too reminiscent of their depriving and often emotionally unavailable parents.
Twice in my life - in my early thirties and at the age of fifty - I experienced periods of suicidal ideation. I never acted upon these thoughts, but I experienced the toxic mixture of despair and self-hatred that leads to the thoughts that death is the only way out. When I have patients who are suicidal, at some point I usually share with them that I too have experienced that state. This helps them to know that I am not judging them and I feel compassionate towards them. I am also offering myself as a beacon of hope in the darkness. I often say, "There is no pressure on you to be hopeful. I will carry the hope until it reawakens in you"
Seven years ago I had a very aggressive form of lymphoma. A friend of mine, another psychologist in his early sixties, who was being treated for another form of lymphoma, died during the time I was receiving chemo. That sent me a very cogent message about what the disease could do. Although my recovery has gone very well, I live with the possibility that the cancer could return at any time and this time it may take me. As a result, death is my daily companion and informs my decisions every day. My sharing of this experience has deepened my empathic connection to patients who are struggling with serious illness and their own mortality. It makes them feel that their therapist is both a professional and a human being who has a genuine heartfelt sense of what they are going through.
For those of us who do this healing work these difficult times in our lives expand our hearts and increase our capacity for compassionate caring. When we open our hearts and disclose these aspects of our journey that are relevant to their suffering our patients feel that compassion more palpably and more deeply. They feel us connecting to them as both professionals and fellow human beings.
From my perspective there is one caveat to our talking about our own lives. I am initially quite cautious about talking about myself with clients who had narcissistic parents. because this can evoke such a strong transference reaction that might cause them to terminate the work, I usually share only after they have internalized a sense that I genuinely care about them
Monday, November 12, 2012
Psychotherpists,Counselors,Life Coaches Can Be Soul Friends to Our Clients
In the early stages of my evolution as a psychotherapist periodically patients would say that it felt like I was their "friend." Yet it didn't feel to them like any kind of friendship they had ever known. Some patients,as they were leaving my office, would say"See you next week my friend." Although I didn't express it to my patients, internally something about being their friend made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't quite know how to respond. Nothing in my training prepared me for it. Initially I thought that I had done something wrong- perhaps I had overstepped some boundary and done something unprofessional. Perhaps I had evoked some transference issue or was acting out some personal need for friendship. I was struggling because this notion of friend didn't fit into any category of friendship that I had ever experienced. In the beginning I pathologized it.
Then I read a book by John O'Donohue entitled Anam Cara. It described the Celtic tradition of anam cara - soul friend. In Gaelic the word anam means soul and cara means friend. Since both of my grandparents were Irish immigrants the phrase had a strong resonance. His description of soul friend gave me a framework to understand what kind of unique friendship some of my patients were attempting to describe. It also added an additional layer of sacredness to how I viewed our work. My patients were entrusting their souls to me. For me this insight increased my sense of reverence for our roles as healers and a deeper sense of responsibility.
It is not my intention to engage in an ontological discussion of the notion of soul. That conversation is well beyond the scope of this blog and my book. Suffice it to say that what I mean in this context is the essential nature of the person.
The souls of most of my patients have been neglected, abused or wooded, treated with apathy or disrespect. Many of them have lived in soul-killing environments. I have felt that I need,by my presence and the ambience of my office, to provide the opposite - a sense of sanctuary, a safe refuge for their souls. When we initially meet our patients for the most part their souls are in hiding. From my perspective a primary goal of a more heart-centered approach is to invite the souls of our patients to come out again. From my experience the souls of our patients respond not to rational insights or cognitive techniques, but to welcoming warmth, compassionate presence and acts of loving kindness.
I am advocating that psychotherapists, counselors and life coaches consider the notion that one of our cardinal roles is to be a soul friend to our clients. Being a soul friend is a particular kind of friendship that goes well beyond the ordinary definition of friend. He/she is the kind of friend who honors our essential nature, who wants to know our "deep within" and treats our souls with respectful reverence. He/she invites our soul to come out of hiding through nurturance, affection, celebration of growth and loving challenge. In myriad ways the soul friend says"You are valued. I am here to help you to become more fully the unique being who you can be."
This is based on the Anam Cara chapter of my book Working From the Heart: A Therapist's Guide to Heart-Centered Psychotherapy (Jason Aronson Publishing 2011). Take a look at my website (williampryan.com) for more information.
Then I read a book by John O'Donohue entitled Anam Cara. It described the Celtic tradition of anam cara - soul friend. In Gaelic the word anam means soul and cara means friend. Since both of my grandparents were Irish immigrants the phrase had a strong resonance. His description of soul friend gave me a framework to understand what kind of unique friendship some of my patients were attempting to describe. It also added an additional layer of sacredness to how I viewed our work. My patients were entrusting their souls to me. For me this insight increased my sense of reverence for our roles as healers and a deeper sense of responsibility.
It is not my intention to engage in an ontological discussion of the notion of soul. That conversation is well beyond the scope of this blog and my book. Suffice it to say that what I mean in this context is the essential nature of the person.
The souls of most of my patients have been neglected, abused or wooded, treated with apathy or disrespect. Many of them have lived in soul-killing environments. I have felt that I need,by my presence and the ambience of my office, to provide the opposite - a sense of sanctuary, a safe refuge for their souls. When we initially meet our patients for the most part their souls are in hiding. From my perspective a primary goal of a more heart-centered approach is to invite the souls of our patients to come out again. From my experience the souls of our patients respond not to rational insights or cognitive techniques, but to welcoming warmth, compassionate presence and acts of loving kindness.
I am advocating that psychotherapists, counselors and life coaches consider the notion that one of our cardinal roles is to be a soul friend to our clients. Being a soul friend is a particular kind of friendship that goes well beyond the ordinary definition of friend. He/she is the kind of friend who honors our essential nature, who wants to know our "deep within" and treats our souls with respectful reverence. He/she invites our soul to come out of hiding through nurturance, affection, celebration of growth and loving challenge. In myriad ways the soul friend says"You are valued. I am here to help you to become more fully the unique being who you can be."
This is based on the Anam Cara chapter of my book Working From the Heart: A Therapist's Guide to Heart-Centered Psychotherapy (Jason Aronson Publishing 2011). Take a look at my website (williampryan.com) for more information.
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