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.