I'm sitting in the sun on a warm spring afternoon, on the deck overlooking a recently-greened vineyard. There are the usual background noises: feint bird chirps, a caw of a crow, the very distant hum of cars making their way up the asphalt ribbon of 101 North-South. What makes this all notable, is the literal absence of the city cacophony.
No angry car horns. No city hum. No human chatter.
It is powerful. It is the power of silence.
And yet, in the company of others, and in the therapy setting, silence can make us, well, a little...uncomfortable.
Filling the void with voice. In this age of burgeoning communication options--cell phones, voice mail, texts, tweets, Instagrams (and yes, I'm certain I've forgotten others)--the need to be saying something--anything!--seems to be overwhelming us with words and pictures.
The same seems true in the therapy office, at times. Early on in my training as a therapist, I was encouraged to use silence as an intervention--a tool--to allow my clients to go deeper into their story. Almost always, that first foray in to voicelessness was met with fidgeting clients asking, what do you want me to say next?
Of course, it wasn't about what I wanted at all but, more accurately, what comes up when we're actually allowed to simply be in the moment with our thoughts. To not be prompted, replied to, affirmed, judged or otherwise cued by another as to the worthiness of our sentence.
Buried treasure. It seems that we are often so eager to either garner a response or to offer one, that a thought left hanging in the air is a rarer and rarer thing these days. A luxury, of sorts. But, given space to breathe and expand, one's thoughts, ideas, stories and true feelings often emerge, like artifacts long buried, only now unearthed.
In the therapeutic conversation it is simple yet, again powerful. And I often marvel at the profound and moving things that clients share, when simply given the room to do so.
Perhaps that's why silence can be scary at times. Because, in the absence of another person's word, the invitation to continue is implied. And, for some, it's uncharted territory: I didn't hear you comment. What do you think about what I said? Was I right? Do you agree? Do you approve of me? Silence is the green light to go ahead, but without the safety net of another's approval (or even disapproval--at least you know where you stand!).
The gift of not saying a word. In our hectic lives, how often do our friends, family, colleagues, even strangers give us the chance to muse, without comment? My guess is, not often. So, it's not surprising that, given the gift, we're sometimes unclear about how to proceed. And yet, left to our own discourse, we will almost always find resolution on our own.
Here's an idea: take the leap. Venture a deeper thought. A more novel idea: make room in your conversation with a friend for him or her to keep going. Give them room to muse, think, come to an authentic conclusion. Ok, they might think you're giving them the silent treatment, so use the least intrusive prompt you can: Go on.
You might be surprised with how the conversation unfolds. And if, as I've endorsed before, you are truly listening to understand and not to win or persuade, you are likely to learn a great deal about your friend--and possibly about your friendship.
Until next time, thanks for listening.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Monday, March 4, 2013
Repairing A Broken Relationship Or, The Long Road Home.
Working with couples has been some of the most challenging and satisfying work I have done as a therapist. I say challenging, because couples have often reached a crisis point in their relationship when they decide to seek help. More often than not, by the time we sit together for the first time, the couple has made a multitude of mostly unsuccessful attempts to "fix" each other, which often leaves the couple exasperated. The work is also extremely satisfying in that the couples who are willing to try to find different ways to listen, understand and accept one another can, with time and work, repair seemingly insurmountable rifts in their relationships.
The initial couples session sometimes starts with an enactment of how the couple tries to solve their problems at home. The conflict can range from mild blaming to outright name-calling or more. The mistake most couples make is to try to convince or persuade me that one of them is the "good guy" and the other is completely at fault. What couples learn very quickly is that I don't judge, take sides, or invest very much in the blaming process. Who is at fault--actual or perceived--almost never is the therapeutic issue. How couples communicate and the goal of their communications are much more vital to the healing process.
"It's not me, it's HIM." It's not hard to understand why couples blame each other. No one likes to be "at fault." And, if blame can be shifted away from ourselves, we stand in "the right." In couples therapy, "right" and "blame" are much less important than understanding your partner. Empathizing with your partner. Giving benefit of the doubt. Forgiveness. Loving.
Sounds good, but it usually takes practice. And it definitely takes shifting away from blaming to understanding.
Moving from head to heart. I work with many highly intelligent couples who manage many responsibilities in both their personal and professional lives. Often, in an attempt to impose order or make sense of a hurtful situation, one or both of the couple will strive to intellectualize their differences. While this might provide logic, it inhibits the feeling process. Sometimes, there just is no sense to be made of human behavior. People are fallible. And, often, in moments of lapsed judgement or hurt, they behave in ways that defy their own values and ideas of who they are at their cores. It can be upsetting at the least; and horribly shaming. No wonder we try to try to make "sense" of it. It helps us avoid feeling our hurt. And yet, in order to begin to acknowledge our behaviors and the effects we have on others, we must feel. We must shift from processing our transgressions in our heads to dealing with them in our hearts.
Are you here to punish? You're in the wrong place. Couples sometimes do hurtful things to one another, and they're often still hurting when they walk in my office. Some come with the express purpose of extracting vengeance--with me as the audience! I can only say, I can't allow that to happen in my session. There's enough pain in the world without adding to it. And vengeance just adds pain on top of pain. What can happen, and often is very therapeutic, is to slow the couple down so they can actually hear each other; and then an amazing thing is allowed to happen: they can begin to feel their partner's pain, without having to create more pain in the room.
The purpose of their communication shifts, sometimes radically. Understanding replaces blaming. And healing can begin.
I honor every couple who has the courage to move through the process of couples therapy. Like many journeys, it can be difficult, but also very rewarding. At the end of every long road home is home--the place we build with the ones we love. And there is rarely so satisfying a destination as this.
Until next time, thanks for listening.
The initial couples session sometimes starts with an enactment of how the couple tries to solve their problems at home. The conflict can range from mild blaming to outright name-calling or more. The mistake most couples make is to try to convince or persuade me that one of them is the "good guy" and the other is completely at fault. What couples learn very quickly is that I don't judge, take sides, or invest very much in the blaming process. Who is at fault--actual or perceived--almost never is the therapeutic issue. How couples communicate and the goal of their communications are much more vital to the healing process.
"It's not me, it's HIM." It's not hard to understand why couples blame each other. No one likes to be "at fault." And, if blame can be shifted away from ourselves, we stand in "the right." In couples therapy, "right" and "blame" are much less important than understanding your partner. Empathizing with your partner. Giving benefit of the doubt. Forgiveness. Loving.
Sounds good, but it usually takes practice. And it definitely takes shifting away from blaming to understanding.
Moving from head to heart. I work with many highly intelligent couples who manage many responsibilities in both their personal and professional lives. Often, in an attempt to impose order or make sense of a hurtful situation, one or both of the couple will strive to intellectualize their differences. While this might provide logic, it inhibits the feeling process. Sometimes, there just is no sense to be made of human behavior. People are fallible. And, often, in moments of lapsed judgement or hurt, they behave in ways that defy their own values and ideas of who they are at their cores. It can be upsetting at the least; and horribly shaming. No wonder we try to try to make "sense" of it. It helps us avoid feeling our hurt. And yet, in order to begin to acknowledge our behaviors and the effects we have on others, we must feel. We must shift from processing our transgressions in our heads to dealing with them in our hearts.
Are you here to punish? You're in the wrong place. Couples sometimes do hurtful things to one another, and they're often still hurting when they walk in my office. Some come with the express purpose of extracting vengeance--with me as the audience! I can only say, I can't allow that to happen in my session. There's enough pain in the world without adding to it. And vengeance just adds pain on top of pain. What can happen, and often is very therapeutic, is to slow the couple down so they can actually hear each other; and then an amazing thing is allowed to happen: they can begin to feel their partner's pain, without having to create more pain in the room.
The purpose of their communication shifts, sometimes radically. Understanding replaces blaming. And healing can begin.
I honor every couple who has the courage to move through the process of couples therapy. Like many journeys, it can be difficult, but also very rewarding. At the end of every long road home is home--the place we build with the ones we love. And there is rarely so satisfying a destination as this.
Until next time, thanks for listening.