More times than I can count I have been sitting across the room from a client who is troubled and confused and had them state, “just tell me what to do” or “just give me some advice”. Hmmm, this is a sticky situation because while I am thrilled that this client has come seeking change, I also don’t want them to adopt the belief or expectation that this is all there is to it, just come in, ask for advice, go away and everything will be better.

Therapy is about sitting still enough for you to tap into your own thoughts and beliefs about something and then have the therapist support you in whatever machinations are involved with facing or editing or managing that insight. We don’t sit across from people and tell them what to. Sometimes we do tell them what they are already doing and wonder how that’s working for them, but we don’t tell anyone what to do.

It’s so much more important for any individual to come to the conclusion or insight themselves and then access the belief or perspective or tools to do something different of their own accord and not because “the therapist told me to”. Because then the process is theirs and no matter how it evolves, it was their choice. If it were just us telling them what to do, how is that any different than other relationships in their lives?

In my experience, when people are told what to do they often rebel. Now, in some cases that may be an effective therapeutic intervention but I don’t believe we ever tell anyone what to do. We suggest. We wonder. We highlight options and possibilities. We clarify. We challenge and encourage and support. We do not give advice. Let’s save that for the syndicated columns.

The northeast has had quite a time these past few months, what with Hurricane Irene on Labor Day weekend, the “Arborgeddon” snow event Halloween weekend and now we are in the thick of the holiday season and all of the turmoil that it brings. This all has left me reflecting on routine and its importance in our lives.

Most of the emergency-tenored cacophony of late seems to have sprung from the interruption of peoples lives and its impact on their routines. No power, no school, no work, no heat, no parking at the mall (well, OK, that last one isn’t really so big – but when it’s coupled with the preceding few…). Interruption in our routine feels like our lives are being attacked by intruders.

The human capacity for adaptability is truly impressive. Unfortunately we still don’t like the discomfort that comes with all that adapting. Our penchant for routine, pattern and predictability serves us well when we are driving a car or learning to walk. It creates discomfort and upset when we aren’t wanting it or looking forward to it. Even small things, like wanting a new website or organizational policy. Yes, one may want the finished piece based on their observation of its effectiveness for other similar companies, but the discomfort in truly embracing the change and the shifting of power is harder than most of us give it credit. How often have we heard (or said?) “Yes, I do want it – but not that way”. At the end of the day, what we are really reacting to is a basic interruption in routine.

One of my most useful quotes comes from the halls of recovery. It states that, “Change will not happen until the pain of remaining the same is greater than the pain of change”. I have used this in a previous post, and I find it amazing and strangely comforting to see that really, when we boil most discomfort down, it all has the same base elements. Our routine (way of thinking, responding, interacting, coping, moving about, existing) has been interrupted and we are uncomfortable. Learning to sit with – and through – discomfort is what therapy is all about.

It’s true that we are all so much more the same than different. Be it recovering from loss or trauma, addiction or job loss, corporate management change or personal familial interactions, policy or pattern, it’s the pain of the interruption of routine that bristles us the most. Like Linus above, a new shirt may be prickly and scratchy at first, but give it some time and it can become your new favorite.

This holiday season when you are finding yourself snapping at someone or reacting strongly over a small thing, sit back and reflect if what you’re really reacting to may be a shift or interruption in your routine.

The holidays present a particularly difficult time for people contemplating divorce, in the process or just recently through it. It is a time to seek more support, not less, so MFT3 will do its part by being here twice.

Contact Katherine Allen by email to reserve your spot.

Knowing when it's time to quit

It’s hard to say goodbye even in the best of circumstances. But at the end of the day, essentially it is the end goal of every therapy relationship to ultimately end. Yes we are seeking goodbye from the first time we meet.

Sometimes this is done in a beautiful, Hollywood-worthy way when client reaches stated goal and is healed of the problem and therapist and client come to a collective agreement that yes, it is indeed time for us to part, sad but joyful, accomplished, healed. It can be hard saying goodbye to a relationship where you have shared your deepest secrets, fears, hopes and have grown to trust in this other person, the therapist. Sometimes the therapy relationship is the only honest and healthy relationship a client has ever encountered. Yet even then, especially then, it is important to say goodbye.

Sometimes clients say goodbye in less than flattering ways. Sometimes they just stop answering their phone. Sometimes they feel the need to yell at the therapist to aid in making the break. Sometimes they even need to vilify the therapist because they might have exposed too much, there are still some unresolved raw spots throbbing in pain.

Sometimes a therapist has to essentially fire a client, kick them out of the proverbial nest, launching them into this new world that they are now ready for. Or, sometimes, into a new therapy relationship that will hopefully address the as of yet unmet needs of that client.

Regardless of how or when we say goodbye, it is always emotional. The success stories are bursting with pride and accomplishment in both parties. The bad breakups feel bad, at least to this therapist, only in that it didn’t have to end that way. The vilified ones are awful, hopefully rare, and the fear is that the client will see the whole profession through hurt lenses and never get the healing they obviously need.

Sometimes it happens on a comfortable timeline, sometimes it feels too fast, or in the case of those being pushed out of the nest, too long.

But in the end every therapist is ready and well prepared for the goodbye. The issues arise when the clients aren’t on the same page. So take this lesson and share it – saying goodbye is hard and good, especially when done with mindfulness and understanding.

And just because the issue that brought you to therapy is resolved doesn’t mean that you can never go back. Life has a way of giving us multiple challenges. Know that it is a therapist’s highest compliment when a satisfied client returns in the future, new issue in hand. We’re here to help, ready when you are. And, ready to say goodbye again and again.

(cue Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music…)

Sitting still with accountability

It’s easy to say, somewhat easy to spell, yet oh so hard to do, at least in certain situations. One situation that has a particularly prickly relationship with accountability is the one with addiction. Remember the dragon? He hates accountability. Nope, no fun at all, not for him.

Accountability seems to be a vague value for so many people. In the room of therapy, here is what it means. It means we will have to take responsibility for our actions and words. We will have to feel pain and not try to rationalize it away. We will have to ignore the urge to minimize or dramatize actual events, but relate them accurately with all their warts or modest accolades. It means some will be proud, some will judge, some will not care and some will possibly try to undermine or retaliate. It then means that we do not respond, that we accept the fact that our actions have reactions, reciprocity, and that we don’t get to always be the weavers of the tale that follows. Sometimes we have to sit with the reality of the situation and just let it be.

Man, this is hard stuff to teach in therapy! It sounds so neat and simple yet it is the undercurrent of so much of what we do. Can client A sit with the pain of an over-reaction and let it feel bad and then let it move away? Can client B sit with a stunning realization without the usual snide comeback? Can client C allow the truth of a situation to be OK and isolated and not “kitchen sink” old issues to muddy the moment?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLso0ZBqOi4

Sometimes the magic works, sometimes it doesn’t. We aren’t looking for perfection (that’s a whole other blog post) but slight shades of improvement, insight, to string together a few successes and allow them to resonate more than the old pattern.

Come on in, the water’s great!

not-so-scary dragon

Dragons are all around us, it’s just that we can’t see them. Well, we can if we redefine them properly. Fire breathing dragons are the hosts of addiction. Yes addiction. And, unfortunately, addiction is all around us.

Addiction can take many forms and the most obvious are of course the worst examples. When we discuss the term “alcoholic” in session we have to work hard to eradicate the instant image of someone who is dirty, homeless, toothless and living under a bridge. As one client put it recently, “alcoholism” wears a suit and takes the train to the city every day.

Addiction is the term we prefer to use because it has fewer stereotypic images associated with it. And addiction is easier for people to associate to things other than alcohol or drugs; it doesn’t take much to illuminate how behaviors like gambling, shopping, cutting, bulimia and workaholism are all forms of addiction as well. This helps open up space to embrace new definitions of addiction, to make it more personal and easier to relate to for many.

Once we clear that hurdle, then comes the dragon. I use a fire breathing dragon as my visual analogy for what addiction really is. Addiction starts, for everyone, with the simple yet dangerous statement of, “I can’t handle _____”. This phrase, spoken from our innermost place, is the calling card for the dragon. Now, the person in pain or despair or fear has a new buddy, a fire breathing dragon. The dragon appears at one’s shoulder and says, “Hey, I hear you can’t handle _____. Well guess what? I’m a fire breathing dragon and I can handle anything! So let me help you.” To the person in turmoil this seems like a gift, a blessing, a quick fix, and so they entertain the idea. But then, the dragon adds, “Well, you see, I can help protect you from _____, but you’ll have to do something for me too.” (play the Jaws theme here). “I’ll need you to provide me with [alcohol, shopping, gambling, heroin, bingeing, etc...] to give me strength to battle the _____ that you can’t handle”. Ut oh. Remember that there’s no such thing as something for nothing, right? And folks, once the person agrees, just like that we now have addiction. Yep, it’s that easy, simple, small and harmless, on the surface, at the beginning. Unfortunately, things change rapidly as the dragon has a much more voracious appetite for the “thing” that it needs to fuel itself to battle the _____ of the person. And as time goes on the person, who has had to lie, cheat and steal to satisfy the dragon, feels that they have sacrificed so much to the dragon that, well heck, I guess we’re in this for the long haul, the dragon is the only one I can rely on, yadda yadda yadda. (In addiction we call this minimization, rationalization, projection and denial)

ALL dragons are scary

Addiction is very gentle and loving at the beginning but it evolves extremely rapidly. Nobody wakes up one day and says to themselves, “I think I’ll become and addict today!” But it happens everyday. If you slow down enough you will see dragons all around you.

Good thing that therapists are trained to see and slay dragons. (yes, hard to put on a resumé, but results don’t lie)

the velvet rope

It’s been hard to resist the draw of the “Rapture” scheduled for Saturday. It kind of makes posting here irrelevant, yet I am compelled to do so anyway. But what I wanted to focus on was less about “Judgement Day” and more about judgement in general.

How do we let others know our stance or beliefs about issues, topics or events? How do we clafify something that to one seems reasonable when to another it seems impossible? Where do we make room for tolerance, acknowledgement, if not understanding?

In my practice I have developed a theory (which I really should copyright or something) which I call “the Velvet Rope”. This velvet rope is the visual analogy that I use with clients to embody boundaries. Often when clients, or anyone for that matter, hears the word boundary we tend to conjure up images of brick walls, steel gates, impenetrable fortresses worthy of Get Smart.

But in reality we have many boundaries, like a velvet rope, that embody a clear signal, share information yet are open and unimposing. By that I mean that one can see past the velvet rope, it allows information to transfer freely while also setting a clear limit without force.

I introduce this theory to clients and then add in the stance of non-judgement. I don’t judge someone who puts up a velvet rope. I believe them and understand that they are telling me something that I can either agree to and conform to be allowed inside or I can choose to say no thank you and move on, all without judgement. Take the fancy restaurant as an example. You can find a velvet rope outside of one and it lets you know who they are and what is required to “play in their clubhouse” which may entail a week’s paycheck for a 5-star meal. It is a boundary that they set and then don’t hold it against the passer-by who chooses to keep looking. It conveys information to both parties; this is who we are and what is required by you (money, dress code, etc.) to join.

A velvet rope works well when we think about more emotionally charged boundaries too, like the ones we need to set with family, co-workers, or even those who believe in Judgement Day. It is informational, protective, clarifying and always, we strive for it to be non-judgemental. It’s OK that you choose one side of the rope over another, it’s not personal. This theory takes some practice but you might find it useful when setting limits with a nosy friend or a rude relation. Yes, sometimes there is initial surprise or rebuke because it wasn’t there before. But it doesn’t take long for others to get used to it and believe it and then either edit themselves to allow inclusion or for them to move on.

Boundaries don’t have to be big or mean to be effective. And they don’t have to convey judgement either.

Black and white cupcake

Black and white, at least in therapy, is all about thinking and has nothing to do with race, color or culture. Black and white thinking is one of the major hurdles we address and challenge in therapy and it has an ability to slip into what we call rigid thinking in so many ways. A quick definition of black/white thinking is to liken it to either/or thinking. With this type of thinking, things are very rigidly and distinctly drawn as either/or, good/bad, on/off, with me/against me, right/wrong. Yet in reality, there are very few things that can be so cleanly defined or separated. Rather, the world is host to a dizzying array of gray, many subtleties and perceptions that are all valid, viable, yet for some may not be comfortable or familiar. So in therapy, we strive to first identify where the black/white has us stuck and then challenge our perceptions to find multiple plausible alternatives and enter into the gray, or for dichotomy, the both/and place.

Both/and? Why that’s crazy talk! (overheard in a therapist’s office…) Yet when we think about it a little more, we come to realize that both/and really frees us up to embrace all of the subtleties of any given situation, giving us permission then to access a greater diversity of emotions or tools to manage what we are faced with. Hmmm, not so crazy after all, now is it?

Examples of challenging black/white and embracing both/and could be: I am both angry and sad and confused and hurt. Previously someone may have only believed that they had to choose one, I am either angry or sad. In reality, we tend to be many things at once, and when faced with choosing anger over a more vulnerable emotion, like hurt, we tend to go for anger. But this is exactly where the stuck has us trapped. If we reach for anger every time we are faced with vulnerability, we never get to the core of the feeling so we aren’t able to resolve the feeling so we are stuck in being angry that our vulnerability isn’t being assuaged. See the pattern here? Rather, by embracing both/and we are able to give voice to all of the feelings we have, including the vulnerable ones, which gives us access to a wider variety of coping tools and words to help those we are seeking help from to meet our needs better. This is a great approach for kids, too. By allowing them to be many things at once they feel validated and temper tantrums tend to become less necessary.

Like the cupcake above, it is both chocolate and vanilla and it has a tinge of lemon, it is a dessert and a treat and not good for us. By linking as many things as we’d like in the and string, we come closer to the complete experience and therefore invite in more understanding for ourselves and those around us.

Try it and see for yourself. Both/and.

There is an adage that comes from the world of addiction recovery but it’s one that I use with every client. It states that “Change will not happen until the pain of remaining the same is greater than the pain of change”.

In session, I hold out my hands and gesture that in one hand we have the pain of remaining the same and in the other hand we have the pain of change. Clients now have to choose a pain. Clients are typically in my office because the pain of remaining the same has reached a point of being greater than the unknown pain of change. So we discuss this and contract together to move into and through the pain of change.

There are few guarantees in therapy. What I can guarantee clients is pain, they just have to choose which one they are willing to embrace. If they choose the pain of remaining the same then they do not need my assistance, they are already familiar with what it is they do or tell themselves to manage their everyday. If they choose the pain of change, well then here we go. The second thing I can guarantee in therapy is work.

My style and approach may be different from the author’s but I would then challenge him to possibly embrace some pain of change and see how he can offer his patients a new experience.

The truly amazing thing about this profession is that the therapist is never done learning either.

But what some may see as adversity can be seen as a wonderful opportunity through a different lens. Mother Nature has us in her clutches, we are truly powerless over the weather. Yes, one may have 6 or 7 apps to keep abreast of the comings and goings of the weather, but all in all we are still ineffective at doing anything about it. We can whine and grumble and complain or we can embrace the fascinating opportunities each change holds for us.

Plan for that day off, gather friends and ingredients and make forts and later have cookies and hot cocoa, gather together and just be with one another. Relish all of nature’s strength and beauty, even down to the smallest delicate details of a snowflake.

I have been reflecting on recent sad events in our world; the Arizona shootings and the suicide of a popular web personality, Bill Zeller. What do these two sad events have to do with winter weather? Well, powerlessness of course.

When we are confronted by what we believe to be unchangeable or overwhelming events or stimulus, sometimes the human being can retreat into a state of constant fear and panic. Interestingly, the best way to manage powerlessness is to embrace it. No, we don’t have power over the weather, or what others may do to us, but that doesn’t make us powerless over how we handle it. I wish Bill had found some good therapy, I wish the shooter had done the same. We do have power over what we tell ourselves these random events mean. We always have the power to find help, to invite in another person and “share our rocks”.

If you or anyone you know seems to be struggling with darkness and despair, please help them find help. Whether at MFT3 or elsewhere, the most important step is the first one, into a therapist’s office.