The Therapist's Golden Rule

Disclaimer: For this blog I am discussing the Harry Potter books/movies. I recognized that there are those who are offended by the material. If this is the case for you, then feel free to disregard this post.

There’s a golden rule among therapists. A rule that must be followed in order to be a good therapist. Ever gone to see a therapist and had a bad experience? It could be because they are not following this golden rule.

The golden rule is: “Know thyself.” This maxim dates back to ancient Greece and, I think, is applicable to every human being. But therapists pose an extra risk if they break this rule. “You can only take someone as far as you yourself have gone,” is something we often hear in our training; meaning, if you’re not willing to face your own Shadow, you will be ineffective in helping others face theirs. And not only ineffective, but also inauthentic. If you cannot deal with your own crap you have no right to presume you can guide someone else to healing.

Tough words.

I created this blog, to help me on my own journey to know myself, really know myself. Even though facing my dark side is incredible frightening, nothing is more scary to me than being ineffective at what God has called me to do: help others.

I want to draw on the world of Harry Potter for a picture to drive this point home. The series is full of magical creatures, breathtaking adventure, and astounding artifacts. One of the magical artifacts I find most interesting in the series is the Mirror of Erised. For those of you who have not seen the movies, please watch these two short clips before continuing:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xwTRuflLuo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kn7cR_8_vA

This mirror is a magical mirror. When asked if he understands what the mirror does, Harry guesses, “It shows us what we want, whatever we want.” But it does more than that. The mirror, Dumbledore explains, “shows us nothing more or less than the deepest and most desperate desires of our hearts.”

Harry sees himself surrounded by the family he never had. In another clip, Harry’s best friend Ron, who is a middle child always overshadowed by his older brothers, sees himself as successful and finally being noticed by others.

Since watching The Philosopher’s Stone several weeks ago a question has been burning in my mind. What would I see if I could look into the Mirror of Erised?

Sometimes I wonder things that I don’t actually want the answer to, maybe this sounds familiar. For example, I have headaches. I have recently watched way too much Grey’s Anatomy and am convinced I have a brain tumor. But do I actually want to know if I have something wrong with me? Not really. I’m pretty okay not knowing. Knowing seems much more scary than not knowing. That’s kind of how I feel about this question.

What are the deepest desires of my heart?

There’s a part of me that’s afraid that I would see myself as a successful and famous therapist, having written two books, driving an expensive car, living in a huge house on the ocean, with 3 kids, a dog and a cat, happily married, well-dressed, and several dress sizes smaller.

Now, not that there’s anything wrong with those things in particular (I do hope some of those things come true), but I would hope the mirror would show something…more. Something noble, something meaningful.

What scares me about the Mirror of Erised is that it strips you of all pretense. It looks past the part of ourselves that we show to the outside world. Past the part that’s neat and tidy, the nice part, the part that when asked what we would choose if we had one wish says through pearly white teeth: “World peace.” We hide the ugly part. The part that is greedy, materialistic, spiteful, and shallow. But it’s still there. And the Mirror of Erised is not fooled as those around us may be.

What are the deepest and most desperate desires of my heart? What are yours?

I think I know what I would like to appear on the mirror, and it’s less about material wealth and more about impacting people, being with family, and showering others with unconditional positive regard.

Looks like I still have a long ways to go to on the journey to know myself. There’s (always) more work to be done.

Confessions of a Cynic

I’m cynical. A cynic. Heart-of-stone type.

I see young couples “in love” and say to myself, it won’t last (note how I even put in love in quotations). I see young friends getting engaged and say, they have no idea what they’re getting into. I see young women pregnant and think, wow their life is over.

If there was a DSM-IV diagnosis for Cynic Disorder I’m sure I would meet three or more of the following criteria:

1. Inability to feel happy for others when it would be socially appropriate to be
2. Distinct annoyance when around newly engaged young individuals
3. Excessive rude thoughts towards young parents who seem to think having a baby will be fun and romantic
4. Marked rolling of eyes around young couples who are “in love”
5. Significant judging of young people who claim to have found “the one”
6. Loss of excitement for relationship updates of facebook friends to “engaged”

I have no idea why I’m so cynical. Where did it come from, when did it all start? Because not so long ago I was the young woman “in love,” getting engaged and married.

The most confusing part about trying to comprehend my cynicism is that I’m pretty happy. Happily married and enjoying life. So why do I roll my eyes at facebook pictures of barely-adult kids grinning from ear to ear, showing off an engagement ring? Why can’t I simply smile and feel happy for them.

Maybe it’s because I’m just an evil person without a heart who hates seeing other people happy. Well, probably not.

Maybe it’s because I’m secretly very unhappy with my life and am a shriveled and miserable person on the inside. Ummmm, no.

Maybe it’s because I’m afraid for them. Because I have witnessed firsthand how hard it is to make a marriage work. Because I’ve experienced how much young people change in their early twenties. Because having children young is not fun or romantic most days. Because I have seen too many friends have their marriages crumble around them, leaving them broken and hurting. Because the feeling we call “in love” is a temporary state that your brain does not stay in forever. Because I know being only 100% committed is not enough to make it. Because true love requires daily choices and sacrifices that sadly most are just not willing to make.

Or maybe I’ve grown cynical for another reason I have yet to discover.

Whatever the reason, whether it be a good one or not, I’m tired of being cynical, of seeing the world through grey-tinted glasses. And although it’s not always the most obvious, I want to see the exceptions: the couples that make to their 75^th wedding anniversary still full of love, the young lovers who stick it through, the young moms who become great inspirations. Now, I don’t want rose-coloured glasses either—those are just as bad in my opinion. Give me regular old glasses, please. I could seriously use a change in perspective.

Not Enough

I’m not strong enough. I cannot do it on my own.

I try, oh how I try. I pretend that I’m doing just fine. But I’m not strong enough. And it hurts to say that, to admit it to myself and to you. It actually makes me sick. Because I so badly want to be strong enough. Strong enough for myself, strong enough for my clients. But I am human. Just human. Human.

Now, some days I like being human. I’ve learned to enjoy moments of frailty. The other day I ran into someone I knew I knew, but didn’t know how. I chatted with them, pretending I knew who they were. It was funny and afterwards I enjoyed that feeling: feeling human. I have even started enjoying the fact that I bush when I’m nervous. Sounds ridiculous, I know. But I’ve learned to rejoice in my humanity, recognizing that it’s a gift. It’s beautiful. It’s to be treasured.
But this one part of my humanity I cannot rejoice in, the fact that I'm not enough to solve all my own problems and everyone else's. I cannot fathom how it could be a gift, and I certainly do not treasure it. I hate it.

Hmmm. I guess I thought I was so clever for taking pride in my humanness, so self-aware (superior even, and it’s hard to admit that!). But, I suppose it’s easy to accept that I forget names and blush; much harder to accept the shadow side of being human.

Can I truly accept myself and my humanity without cherishing both the lighter and darker sides? Could I find some way to also take joy in my inability to be strong enough? Celebrate my weakness? And not just in theory, but in deed?

I have a feeling there’s a lesson in here somewhere. And part one might in humility (Yes, Holy Spirit, I hear you loud and clear...).

Dang.

Heavy.

Yesterday I was light, I was happy. I was making a difference and impacting lives. I was showing unconditional positive regard to children who have never experienced it. I was providing a listening ear to teens who have no one.

Yesterday life was good, colours were brighter, the outlook was hopeful. There was justice and love in the world and I was a part of it.

Yesterday I left work with a smile on my face. I was content. I knew I was where I was supposed to be.

But today... Today I am heavy.

Today I am unhappy. No matter how hard I work today, I can’t make enough of a difference. Lives are in shambles and I am powerless to change them. No matter how much I give of myself it is not enough today.

Today life is confusing, colours are dull, the future is dim. Today is a vacuum. Justice and love have vanished without a trace. I am left feeling overwhelmed and alone.

Today I leave work with a heavy heart. I am fighting tears (and they’re winning). Today I feel unsure of where I’m meant to be and how I can make a difference.

How do I face tomorrow, and all the other tomorrows to come? How can I, knowing that while there will be many days like yesterday, days where I’m winning the battle against trauma, neglect, abuse, and mental illness, there will always be the todays where I am fighting a losing battle.

Loud sigh. Deep breath. Silent prayer.

Simple Words

“Thank-you,” “Sorry”; simple words we learn to say as children.

Sometimes we use them just to be polite. We say them to strangers. To the man who lets you jump ahead of you in the grocery line when you only have to buy a carton of milk. To the child who holds the door open for you at the dentist’s office. To the woman you bump by mistake at Starbucks. To the old man who you inadvertently jump in front of in the line for coffee at church.

Sometimes we use them as a weapon. We fill them with sarcasm like a snake fills its prey with venom. To the lady at McDonalds who messed up your order. To the person we cut off in traffic after they won’t let us merge.

And sometimes we use them say things the heart cannot express.

Last week I had a few simple words spoken to me, words I will remember for a long time. I volunteered at our church’s arts camp as an art teacher. At the end of the week I was cleaning up just as the last group of the day was finishing. Most kids were running around the room screaming, laughing, or crying. But this one girl, maybe 11 years old, helped me clean up all the art supplies, picked up all the tiny scraps of paper covering the floor, and pushed the chairs, all without being asked. And then she came to me and said those simple words: “Thank-you.”

Earlier that week at arts camp we were discussing how art can be used to express emotion. We talked about different emotions and what colors remind us of each feeling: maybe blue for happy, red for angry, yellow for worried, and black for sad. Then we shared times each of us had felt those emotions. One girl said that she felt very sad at her uncle’s funeral. “That is sad,” I told her, and then I shared how I too had recently lost someone, my grandfather. Then one of the boys turned to me, he was maybe 11 or 12 years old. He looked into my eyes and said that simple word: “Sorry.”

And in those moments I was reminded at the power we hold. Words can be used for good or for evil; they hold great power to both build up and tear down. My life was changed by those two beautiful children and their simple words.

So if you’re feeling like you don’t know what to say, like you couldn’t possible tell someone how much something they did means to you or how much your heart aches for them, try just using simple words.

The Art of Self-Care

“self-care n. The care of the self…”

Yes, this is literally how it appears in the dictionary. Doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure this one out, right? Self-care: Just, you know… take care… of yourself… Easy enough. Uh, ya, in theory. In theory, self-care means you do things that energize you, refresh, and relax you. It means taking time out for yourself. No “shoulds,” no deadlines, no stress.

I have recently been reflecting on the nature and value of self-care and the fact that it is almost never as straight forward and simple as it I often think it should be. It's less of a science and more of an art.

You see, self-care is a challenge for me and this summer has been difficult. My schedule has relaxed, I have only three classes and an internship, leaving me with more free time than I’ve had in years. Most “normal” people would be thrilled: time to relax! I, however, am not normal (no surprise there). I capital “h” Hate free time! Throw me a 70 hour work week, early mornings, late nights, hours of reading and homework, and very little free time and I become a real-life superhero. I thrive on the time crunch and energy of semi-controlled chaos. After all, if there’s no time to rest, there’s no time to just “be.” “Just being” is hard, uncomfortable even.

My usual state of constant stress and movement is beginning to catch up with me. Stress causes the release of hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. These give us the power boost we need in those fight-or-flight moments. However, we are not meant to exist in this state for very long.Usually whatever crisis causes this hormone surge (cave man being chased by lion or grad student writing an exam) will pass, our bodies return to pre-crisis mode. This is where self-care comes in: this aids the body in relaxing and returning to normal.

This is easier for some than others. And to put it bluntly: I suck at self-care. I’ve grown so accustomed to the stressed-to-the-max state that I’m “just being”-impaired. When our bodies don’t have a chance to return to that relaxed state bad things start to happen: decreased immune system, trouble sleeping, aches and pains, and risk of depression and anxiety. Any of these sound familiar?

But in hopes of becoming a more self-aware, self-accepting, self-liking person, the person I want to be, my journey continues. My next step involves developing a better self-care plan. My recent reflections have led me to discover that there are different levels or layers of self-care.Each layer plays a different role and should ideally take up a certain amount of time.

Layer 1. This is the lowest level of self-care. Although it is at the top of the pyramid, notice that it is the smallest piece. These are things I do to help me veg. For me, this includes things like surfing the net, watching tv and movies by myself, or snacking. These are important, but they do not leave me feeling energized. A healthy role of this level for me is helping me unwind for a few minutes after school/work and before bed. My goal would be to keep this to a maximum of one hour per day. This could also include shopping, smoking, having a glass of wine, or gambling; things that provide an immediate sense of wellbeing, but leave you unfulfilled in the long run. The key to this level is small, controlled doses.

Layer 2. This level consists of the little things you do for yourself that bring you life. For me, this level includes: kayaking, walking, aromatherapy, doing a progressive muscle relaxation, treating myself to a leisurely starbucks, hot yoga, getting a massage, blogging, taking a nap, playing badminton, painting, or getting my hair done. These relieve my stress and help me feel relaxed and energized. My ideal number of these would be two or three a week, even if its something small.

Layer 3. This level to me is foundational to mental health (and thus on the bottom of the pyramid). For me, this ideally includes eating healthy, drinking plenty of water, taking vitamins, exercising regularly, being spiritually active, volunteering, and connecting with friends and my family. This should make up the largest portion of self-care; these are things we do everyday for our own physical, spiritual, mental, and emotional health.

Sadly, lately my life has looked more like this: inverted.

Most of my self-care has been “layer 1,” with very little “layer 2 and 3.” There's been too much TV, not enough exercise, and a whole lot of feeling just plain worn out. Time to make some serious changes. And not because I "should," but because I deserve it.

How is your personal self-care going? Do some of your layers need to be expanded? Take some time to reflect, and then treat yourself today to some self-care. Because you, my friend, deserve it too!

The Inner World of the Introvert

You know those documentaries on the Discovery Channel? The ones about grizzly bears or great whites? They have gorgeous photos, stunning footage, and are narrated by a someone with a great voice. Maybe Morgan Freeman, James Earl Jones, or someone with a British accent. Now imagine with me a documentary on the introvert:

[Insert voice of choice]

“The introvert. One of most interesting, yet confusing creatures to walk the earth. They are often misunderstood by others in their natural environment. Introverts are sometimes labeled as shy, timid, withdrawn, loners, or even party-poopers by their counterpart, the extravert.”

Everyone is born with/develops certain personality tendencies. We each have both introvert and extravert tendencies, though one is often stronger than the other. This part of your personality determines where you draw your energy. Extraverts receive energy from the outer world, being around others. Introverts receive energy from the inner world, spending time in reflection.

Let’s return to the documentary:

“After a long day of being with others the introvert seeks solitude. She’s with a group of extraverts on the beach. Notice how she slips away from the crowd. Now watch closely. The others call out to her, asking her to rejoin them. She politely declines, preferring to walk along the water and collect her thoughts, drawing energy from the moments of seclusion. Though the others may see her as an outsider when she withdraws, she is content to walk in silent reflection, refueling from a long day, before rejoining them.”

Sometimes introversion seen as something to be ashamed of, a weakness, something that you need help for.

“My name is Jennifer. And I am an introvert.”

However, over the last months (Group Counselling & Career Counselling courses) I have come to not only accept but delight in my introversion.

Being an introvert means you come built with a set of strengths. We are more likely to:

• Think, then speak, then think
• Excel one-on-one with others
• Consider and think deeply
• Be calm and reserved
• Work well autonomously
• Seek out other's opinions
• Working in a quiet, encouraging, non-threatening style

It also means we face some challenges. Introverts are more likely to:

• Guard their thoughts until they are (almost) perfect
• Stay in the background
• Hesitate to offer personal information
• Be overly serious
• Not deliver tough messages when appropriate

Now to all you extroverts out there, don’t think I’m forgetting about you. This post is not intended support the notion that introverts are better than extraverts. On the contrary most of my life I would have given almost anything to be like you: outgoing, bubbly, full of energy, life of the party. And today there are still many things I admire about you.

However, I have come to like myself. It sounds silly to say that, but this is something I have struggled with most of my life and I’m guessing I’m not alone. Comparing ourselves to others is a 21 century pandemic, sweeping the globe, leaving few untouched. Tangled in the lies of the media and the devil my eyes have grown cold and critical when turned on myself. Everyday I battle against the voices in my head that tell me I’m not outgoing enough, pretty enough, or good enough. So you can imagine how amazing it feels to be able to say those words and actually (most of the time) mean them: I like myself—introversion included!!

So, to my extraverted friends, keep being your extraverted selves because we love you for it! And when we introverts draw away for some time on our own don't be overly concerned. We're just taking care of ourselves.

And to all my fellow introverts, do not let anyone, yourself especially, tell you that your introversion is something to be ashamed of or wished away. We are different than our extraverted friends, but we bring a different set of strengths to the table, a unique balance to the world. Also, be aware of the challenges that accompany our strengths. Do not let your introversion be used as an excuse to withdraw or miss out on great times with others.

Consider what the next steps in your own journey to like yourself might entail. And then join me in my new anthem:

“I LIKE MYSELF!!!!”

Reference: Hirsh, E., Hirsh, K. W., & Hirsh, S. K. (2003). “Introduction to type and teams." Mountain View, CA: CCP, Inc.