A few days ago, a client of mine developed an insight (an “a-ha” moment) during therapy. What she realized during that session was that she has been suppressing thoughts and feelings regarding her unmet needs: the need to be validated and to be loved by significant people in her life. Her way of trying to receive that validation and love is through pushing herself to obtain academic and work achievements. For years, she toiled non-stop in her studies and work while setting a high expectation of herself, contributing to anxiety and burnout.
With the right conditions, that opportune moment in therapy allowed such insight to surface into her awareness.
I had been feeling rather lethargic the past week. I slept
more (>10 hours), but yet don’t feel rested. In fact, I felt sluggish with
limited focus. My attention seemed to die off from just an hour or two of
productivity (felt like the fire on the candle got blown off without burning
till the end). My emotions felt blunted most times, as if I was numb to my feelings.
I wasn’t interested in doing much, really. My mind and body weren’t listening
to me.
I was wondering why my body was behaving this way. I was thinking
if an experimental supplement that I was taking was affecting my energy (long
story on this one, but I’m on an anti-aging supplement).
After this particular session with the client, I went back home and was in the middle of a shower. Thoughts of the MCO and how it had deviated my plans for the year started to emerge. I had remained optimistic for the most part of these weird times, oftentimes strategizing on how I could instead adapt to the situation. But, I realized that I did not acknowledge the feelings of disappointment for what has been happening. What would’ve been a hopeful year was instead one that is riddled with uncertainty. Big plans turned into “make do” plans.
Insight is possible with the right catalyst
Witnessing my client develop an insight of herself provided
the right conditions for me to develop my own insight. The changes that were
happening to my mind and body, incrementally over the course of the week, were
proportional to how much I assessed an increased doom and gloom of future
economic prospects. I was experiencing depressive symptoms.
My client felt liberated when she developed that insight.
Similarly, I too feel the same about mine. There’s more clarity in perspective.
Mindfulness practice has been gaining prominence in the field of mental health (and also pop culture) as a tool for harnessing psychological benefits. I’m happy to say that this growth in interest of this ancient practice has been proportional also to the growth in evidence of its positive outcomes.
There has been numerous reports of general psychological advantages. Perhaps what excites me more is that mindfulness has also been integrated into several modern psychotherapy modalities. Outcomes have been promising, especially in treatment of mental disorders, namely depression and anxiety. Interestingly, meditators and non-meditators show differences in activation of regions of the brain in imaging studies, with some studies also demonstrating structural differences in the brain (such as this study I read on thicker gray matter density in meditators).
When I conduct brief guided mindfulness sessions, the expressed benefit by the participants have oftentimes been a sense of calm and relaxation. However, I find that mindfulness practice brings out more than just that. Written below will be my subjective account of this practice.
The Wandering Soul
My wandering brought me to India. Pictured here is a busy street in New Delhi, the capital of the country.
My experimentation with mindfulness practice began some time in my mid-20s. At that time, I was having a much harder time managing my emotions effectively. The highs felt like it could spin out of control, while the lows made me feel like I was drowning in quicksand.
I was then acquainted to a short practice by stumbling upon a guided meditation on YouTube. It was 8 minutes long, with instructions mostly related to breathing and also humming.
The rather immediate calming effects experienced from that exercise motivated me to make an impromptu trip to Rishikesh, India. Proclaimed to be the “birthplace of Yoga”, I spent a few days wandering this town. Over there, I picked up a book titled “Old Path White Clouds“, which told the story of the Buddha. I read it by a cafe by the Ganges river everyday, and eventually finished the book on my flight back to Malaysia.
Every evening, a prayer ceremony, called the “Ganga Aarti”, is conducted by the Ganges river. Everyone is free to join along. I remember the atmosphere being calming, with a gentle breeze to my skin.
It was through this travel experience that I understood more deeply what it meant to be “mindful” or “present”. In fact, that was the time when I understood what “spirituality” meant too.
My Mindfulness Practice
At first, 5 minutes of sitting down in silence felt like an eternity. But, it eventually just seemed to breeze by. Upon my return, I had built up my mindfulness practice to about 45 minutes per day.
By doing this, I noticed that regular mindfulness practice led to cumulative gains. I would notice an incremental value in my well-being and mood days after I had been consistent with the exercises.
I often liken thoughts and consciousness to flowing river. It is happening at all times, with little effort. Pictured here is the Ganges river. Upstream, it is clear and pristine.
Most days, sit downs were mostly uneventful. My mind practiced on concentrating, and bringing my attention back to that 1 thing when it does wander. But, there were days when practicing would lead me to experiencing intense sadness or anxiety. There were even bouts of uncontrollable sobbing. Some days, I was instead overwhelmed by a feeling of euphoria.
Receiving The Present
I noticed that these experiences were causing deeper psychological changes within me. The more familiar I was with sitting down in my own company, the more I was okay with experiencing unpleasant emotions. By allowing an unpleasant emotion to exist, the more I realize that it isn’t really scary or harmful. Before this point, I was spending most of my life trying to take action to avoid unpleasant emotions. That way of coping had tend to lead me down a path of questionable decisions. Ironically, the most effective solution that I have learned is to instead sit down and do nothing about it (while practicing present awareness).
Prior to this, feeling good meant only getting support from other people or things. But with regular practice, I felt like I was at a point in life when I was most okay with myself. I developed the awareness that I could also tap into “inner resources”, to which I could rely on myself to feel good.
Needless to say, regular mindfulness practice was a pivotal moment in my life. My personality and worldview had changed tremendously from those months in my mid-20s. I am a very much changed person.
Bringing My Attention Back to the Present
Those days of regular sit downs are now long gone. As much as I had received benefit from consistent practice, it did not seem urgent anymore when life got in the way.
Despite this, I find that something stuck with me from all those hours sitting down. I still am much more balanced and grounded than I was before. Could this be wisdom that came with age, or was it due to all those mindfulness practices? It’s hard to tell, but I bet it is a mix of both.
These days, I do on occasion sit down for 15 minutes to half an hour. Before a practice, it usually feels like I could be doing something else instead. But when I’m done, never once had I not felt grateful that I chose to do it.
Breathing In, Breathing Out
During a mindfulness session, I usually notice that my mind quiets down and stray less when I am at about 10 minutes in. I start to feel more present and “in the moment”. I am more in tuned with the breaths that I am taking. It just feels so much more effortless. And when I open my eyes, I see the world wearing a fresher lens.
Till today, I still find it bizarre that the degree of ease and the joy of just breathing can be so jarring, depending solely on my state of mind.
From all of this, the biggest takeaway from my experience with mindfulness is to always remember to breathe. When times get tough, I go back to my breath. Because what all this has taught me, is that there’s no greater joy than knowing that I am living.
I am just starting to read the manual on Motivational Interviewing (MI). Among its application is in treatment of substance use disorder. As I read it, I become increasingly aware of how different this methodology is as compared to popular and contemporary skills-based approaches, such as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). In fact, comparing the two, a CBT approach would instead approach therapy sessions in the opposite way.
With such confounding methodologies, what makes good therapy?
I’ve had my fair share of time being on the opposite side of the chair. Some were helpful, some were downright unhelpful, and some were… strange. All of these experiences were coming from qualified mental health professionals. So why the varied outcomes?
Being a practicing psychologist for some time now, here is what I’ve learned so far on what makes good therapy:
Reason 1: Effective and collaborative goal-setting.
Speaking from experience, alignment of treatment goals between therapist and client will result in high retention and engagement. Ideally, this process is collaborative, with regular assessment and re-visiting of goals. The client’s functioning can improve (or deteriorate) and priorities may change with time. Regularly auditing treatment goals can ensure that both therapist and client are on track in making best use of the client’s time and money. Oftentimes, clients are appreciative of the process. By doing this, clients can also make informed decisions with regards to continuing/ discontinuing treatment, or in managing the frequency of consultations.
Reason 2: Effectiveuse of listening and/ or interviewing skills.
At the stage of independent practice, a therapist will require the application of basic counseling skills at an “unthinking” level of competence. It is the bread and butter of an effective therapist. This foundation of competence has to be first addressed before even applying fanciful methodologies. A lacking in this area and misapplication of skills would result in clients feeling unheard, hurt, rejected, or judged. In effect, it achieves the opposite of what a therapist would want their clients to feel.
Reason 3: Accurate conceptualization of the case.
A strange phenomenon I have observed is the hastened prescription of a “cause” to a client’s concerns. This is oftentimes without first having a comprehensive understanding of what is happening in the client’s internal and external world. At the least, a client has to first be understood from a biological, psychological, and social perspective. Only then can the therapist assess his or her competency in addressing any of the client’s concerns effectively, and to begin doing so. The target is oftentimes missed when the dart thrower is blindfolded.
Reason 4: Evidence-based.
Not only is there a wealth of literature regarding treatment methodologies, but of underlying psychological models and processes. These resources can aid the therapist in addressing a client’s concerns effectively. Till today, I am unpleasantly surprised at the extent of mis-prescription of a client’s concerns based on unfounded assumptions or downright wrong application of existing psychological knowledge. Such misinformation is harmful.
Granted, by the time a therapist graduates and begins his or her practice, he or she does not have the full extent of mental health knowledge. In fact, it is an area that is exponentially growing with time.
Educational institutions have to prioritize building competent fact-finding/ research skills with a strong foundation in ethical decision making. This is simply because it is not possible to teach all therapy skills in such a limited time. Similarly, a therapist would need to have a strong drive for continuous learning. Unless supervised, an ethical therapist also does not do a thing that he or she is not competent in doing.
Reason 5: Genuinely care.
There are variety of ways to show how one cares. Mental health professionals are trained to demonstrate this as a skill. As much as this can be trained, what cannot be changed is how a therapist genuinelyfeel about clients. One has to ask him or herself: “I want to show my clients that I care, but how much exactly do I really care?”
While sounding like a question first asked when embarking on this journey, it is instead one which has to be regularly answered. This is because it may change from time to time. Therapists go through the ebbs and flows of life. This can include changing financial, family, and career commitments. Also affecting this is the extent of how much his or her psychological and emotional needs are being effectively fulfilled.
In private practice, the therapist and client has to be engaged in at least a 50:50 transaction. That is, the therapist at least provides a service of equal value for the amount of ringgit that the client pays for. If the therapist is providing anything less than, clients can go out of the session feeling shortchanged, unfulfilled, slighted, or felt like a fallen victim to a clock watcher.
Principally, I believe that the value ratio should be instead 51:49, to which the therapist delivers 51% of the transaction. While a therapist can contribute more, the client’s contribution (in monetary terms) should not go beyond 50%.
Conclusion
Without even getting into the specific details of therapy or its many modalities, a therapist has to first overcome the momentous task of fulfilling the above. While simplistic in how these reasons look, it is in actual fact a challenge to effectively fulfill.
Undoubtedly, psychological therapy can be helpful. Given the right conditions, it can be a fulfilling experience to clients. Mental health concerns can be successfully addressed. As I continue reading the manual on MI, I keep in mind that a therapist has to always prioritize the first things first.
Note: I had started on writing a book a while back, but had not prioritized completing it for the longest time. After much deliberation and soul-searching, I’ve come to the conclusion that now is the best time to accomplish this. I expect this book to be completed and published by the middle of next year. This is the introduction to the book:
INTRODUCTION
I remember being depressed when I was 20 years old. Like many others at that age, romantic relationships formed a big part of my life experience. Upon a traumatic relationship breakdown, I went through months of feeling helpless, hopeless, and incompetent in handling myself. I wasn’t a happy person, and had no clue on how to get out of that deep hole that I was in. As a result, I wasn’t keeping up with my studies, suffered with my health, and neglected the existing relationships that I have in my life. I was merely surviving, barely scraping through the day just to live another day. It was a mess.
At this moment of writing, I am filled with an odd feeling of gratitude. Things are different now. In the past decade, I have been investing a lot into figuring out myself. More importantly, I have been learning the tools necessary for me to have a happy and joyful life. I now remember that event as the beginning of a long journey towards personal development. I’m happy to see a significant progress towards being empowered to make the necessary changes in my life, to live according to my values, to have a clearer sense of purpose, and to develop meaningful relationships and career. It has been a fulfilling journey thus far.
Being happy and fulfilled is one of the most important and sought after experiences in life. It is the foundation to the “why” in our actions. It is what gets you out of bed in the morning. It fills you with passion for experiencing life. There isn’t a reasonable person who would want to perform a routine without believing (which may be different from the outcome) that it will provide them with happiness, or at the very least, some relief. In an ideal world, every person deserves to be happy.
However, reality tells a very different story. In 2014, the National Institute of Mental Health reported that about 1 in 5 adults experienced a mental disorder in the United States during that one year duration itself.1 In Malaysia (where I am from), the figure for “mental health problems” rose from 10.7% in 1996 to a shocking 29.2% in 2015!2 That is 1 out of 3 persons in my country experiencing some kind of mental health concern, commonly depression and anxiety.
That is indeed a very worrying number.
That same concern applies to the way we work. For the most part of the urban population, we will be spending at least 1/3 of our lives doing work (measured in hours of the day or years in our lifetime). Considering how much valuable time we are investing into this portion of our lives, I’d think that it is vitally important that work is done in a way that fulfills us. But, the percentage of employed working-age adults across 155 countries who are engaged – meaning they are enthusiastic and very involved in their work – stands at only 15%3.
These numbers show that a significant amount of people in the world are living a life that is unfulfilling, unproductive, and unhappy. Why is this so?
That is the same question that I have been asking myself in the past decade. What started as an inquiry for my personal development also then grew to become a subject for academic understanding and career path.
Studying psychology as a subject matter and completing my undergraduate and postgraduate thesis in studies of happiness, sitting through hundreds of hours of therapy with individuals from all walks of life, and facilitating groups for personal development gave me insight into what people really needed in their lives to become the best versions of themselves. The crux of the matter is this: to live a fulfilling, productive, and happy life, what is needed most are skills to navigate through the seasons and challenges that we face.
As a 30-something who had gone through my 20s experiencing challenges faced by young adults for the first time, such as how to manage and grow relationships, finding a purpose in my daily actions and career, and how to regulate my emotions, I can understand how lost and alone it can feel to not receive the kind of support to know what to do in life. When I look around, it seemed like everyone knew what they were doing and what they wanted. But, hours and hours in therapy with clients tells a different story: while it may seem like things are in order, people are actually struggling with getting a grip on themselves. We are desperately looking for the support and guidance to live a fulfilling life, and for the most of us, we fail to find that holy grail.
The reality is, a one-size-fits-all approach to personal development is not possible. There is no magic advice that can be given by a guru which will immediately transform your life. This is because we each have different strengths, aspirations, past experience, and chapters of our unique lives that have yet to be told to the world. What is very possible, however, is to bring awareness of the skills that can be developed and applied in your day-to-day life so that you are able to live a life that is to the best of your abilities. As a result, you’ll find that your individual potential can be realized, and life will be more meaningful, joyful, and fulfilled. That is the purpose of this book.
The material gathered for this book comes from years of experience as a psychologist. You’ll find that the skills highlighted in the book may come from empirically-driven approaches from existential, humanistic, and cognitive-behavioral psychology. It also comes from understanding the lived experience of the many clients that I’ve seen throughout my career. Lastly, as someone who is also in your shoes, I hope that my personal experience of living through this part of life can be useful to highlight that just like you, I too go through the same challenges, and that you are not alone.
I hope that you’ll get as much value reading through this book, as much as I did writing it. Let us begin.
I had a rather profound moment whilst vacationing on a beautiful island off the coast of Terengganu recently. It was at night, and one of the staff divers was enthusiastically showing us a spot on a big rock for us to look at the stars. Indeed, the sky was really beautiful. The stars looked as if it was hanging off from the atmosphere. I laid on the rock, looking up at the canvas which forms the galaxies to which these stars come from. The gentle blowing wind and sounds of the ocean waves made me imagine what it is like for creatures from the sea to live through this everyday. It must be a peaceful experience.
“It looks good, right?” asked the diver. I replied to the affirmative.
He then exclaimed joyfully, “Of course it does. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been here for 22 years!”. There was a lightness in his steps as he then headed back to his room.
A stroll by the beach, with a view to remember.
That statement made an impact on me. Sure, the view is incredible. It is peaceful. I feel very much connected to nature. To live like this for 22 years? That seems much more of a sacrifice than a reward, as I would then need to let go of the many worldly desires that I aspire to have.
At the same time, his expression of pure joy to a way of life that he has experienced for a whole 22 years, is very, very, inviting. Clearly, that is an inner experience that I too would like to experience for 22 years. But, I realized that the way to achieve that joy can also be very different. I then snapped out of my illusory trance. While island life serves his inner calling, it is a momentary leisure pit stop for me. We are different individuals meant to live out our unique and individualized purpose.
There is a convenient but tragic flaw in our logical reasoning. When we see someone having something that makes him or her happy, we assume that too, is something that we need to have in order to be happy ourselves. While this statement may be true for certain universal characteristics of being a person, such as fulfilling basic needs of food, water, shelter, and meaningful relationship(s), in most cases, our estimations of what we need to make us happy are highly inaccurate.
At times, we get so mesmerized by what we see.
What makes us happy depends more on our intrinsic experience, such as living to our values and purpose. Depending truthfully on our inner compass then leads to fulfilling and meaningful actions. Unfortunately, we find observations of our external environment to be a more valid predictor to our well-being. We oftentimes confuse happiness with what the person has or does. The former is an inner state, while the latter is a way or means of reaching that state of mind. The way to being happy for one person may include amassing power, wealth, and fame. However, that may not be necessary for another person to also achieve happiness. In most cases, such worldly possessions is more of a by-product than an end goal.
The reason a deep neglect of our inner being exists is because external observation is a much more convenient tool. There is little need to inquire on our own individual existence, to explore the plethora of emotions that lies within, and to ultimately be comfortable with answering the question of “Who am I?”. Questioning oneself is akin to opening a Pandora’s box. It is an effortful and frightening process. For many, this becomes overwhelmingly frightening that mimicking the behavior, desire, and goals of others becomes an automatic response.
But, as the saying goes, nothing that is worthwhile is ever easy.
On a related note, I really enjoyed a parable that I’ve read before, of which I will loosely paraphrase here to conclude this blog post:
An explorer from a big city enters a vast jungle. In his adventure, he managed to make his way deep into the jungle. As the afternoon sun began to set in, he rests by the river to regain his strength. Coincidentally, he was met with an aboriginal man. The aboriginal was dressed in nothing but some leaves covering what is necessary.
The explorer, clearly shocked, said “Oh my, look at you! You need to be brought into civilization. Look at the kind of life you are living!”. The aboriginal replied, “What is it that is wrong with me?”
“Firstly, you need to get properly clothed, and go through some education”, said the explorer. “How will that benefit me?” asks the aboriginal.
“You get educated so that you can be smart enough to go to University”, said the explorer. “How will that benefit me?” asks the aboriginal.
“You go to University so that you’re able to get a degree and get a good job”, claimed the explorer in a proud tone. “How will that benefit me?” asks the aboriginal again.
“Well, you get a good job so that you can save enough money to retire when you’re older!” said the explorer, looking increasingly irritated. “How will that benefit me?” asks the aboriginal again, looking even more confused.
“So that you can then do whatever you want!” said the explorer in a loud tone. “Like what?” then asks the aboriginal.
“Well, you can wake up without an alarm and do nothing, go fishing, go for a walk…anything that you feel like doing for the day, really. You can enjoy life, obviously!” the explorer said in a defeated tone.
“Oh..”, the aboriginal murmured under his breath. There was a short pause as he pondered on what he had just heard. He then said, “Isn’t that what I have been doing all along?”
I have been fond of writing ever since I was a teenager. Before I had even known that there’s such a thing as a therapist (ironically, I’m one now), writing has always been my instrument to bring into awareness inner thoughts and emotions. It acts as a mirror, staring right back at me. As I write, the words that is on the screen is void of emotion and judgment. It’s matter-of-fact. If I can allow complete honesty with myself, I can see what I am really thinking and feeling. It can feel like I am ironing out the knotted mess that is my mind.
Aside from blogs that I used to have (and have now long forgotten, or have lost access to), I also used to have a notebook with me to pen my thoughts. In it contained entries as short as a few words, poems, grocery and to-do lists, random sketches of lines and circles, and whatever that could possibly be on my mind at the time of writing. That notebook became so emotionally significant to me, that the pages from the book was also cut out and used for love notes and letters that I would send to my girlfriend at the time.
I was the most creative, present, and emotionally aware during the period of time when I was consistent in writing and meditating.
There is a kind of warmth that I feel when writing. Just like how this picture feels.(source)
Unfortunately, I no longer possess that notebook. I have since dropped the habit of regular meditation. Based on the duration between entries on this blog, I have also lost touch with writing. I am guilty of taking writing for granted. It seems to me that I only willingly approach it when I am in pain, and in need of cathartic self-awareness. Like a mistreated lover, I only showered it with attention when I needed something from it.
Why do I abandon writing in good times, when it was the one that had kept me there in the first place? I am a walking paradox. But so is going through the passage of life, which can be rather confusing and out-of-order; despite its sweetness if I’m ever so present to stop and notice. This further validates my point that I should be writing more consistently. I can benefit from taking notice.
To be really frank with myself, I haven’t been feeling my best lately. In the past couple of months or so, I’ve felt like I’ve disappointed myself in various aspects: relational, financial, physical, and emotional. The past 2-3 years have been rather draining, and it feels as if the platform that is supporting me slowly thinning down.
I haven’t been allowing these emotions to come into full awareness and to just let it breathe. Writing was one of the ways to catch these feelings, and so was meditation. I just went on with my days, denying these feelings its right to exist during times when it rightfully should. And so here I am, writing about it, staring into these words that I’ve just written. It’s like a mirror to how I look on the inside, and I can live it in its full flesh. I’m appreciating this, more so in the silence of the night.
Emotions can be rather tricky. Despite how disappointed or down I feel about myself, I know that when viewed rationally, I have accomplished a great deal of things throughout this year and have held myself together considerably well given the circumstances. But then again, these accomplishments has its time and place. And for this moment, I would like to instead allow what I’ve been denying to claim its own space.
There is a kind of relief and warmth that comes from being honest with myself. Being truthful almost feels like being naked (guess that’s why they call it the ‘naked truth’). To just feel my truth, despite the pain, is actually a rather pleasant experience. I’m glad I took the time to do this. This is the reason why I write.
I appreciate going for a late movie, followed by the calm and stillness that the night could offer me on the way back home. I decided to watch Logan, which to me was rather different than the usual explosions and attempts at witty banter that such a “genre” usually offer. Instead, I was greeted with a rather depressing tone which touched on a variety of human experiences such as love, relationships, isolation, and death.
Prior to the current setting in the movie, Professor X and Logan had lived in isolation for the past year and had gone through some very difficult experiences. This had got both of them in a rather depressed mental state. There was this scene that had struck a chord in me. It was a scene of Professor X resting in bed at a family’s home who had welcomed them for dinner and the night’s stay. Professor X, being old, frail, and at times displaying dementia-like symptoms, went into dialogue that it has been a long time since he had last felt safety, comfort, and togetherness. He strongly suggested to Logan that he too, should take some time to experience this. “This is what life is about”, Professor X said.
Logan (Wolverine) and Professor X in the later part of their lives.
This scene of him lying in bed and communicating his feelings of safety and being loved was rather touching in several ways. I began reflecting on how fortunate I am to be able to fall asleep in a warm bed in my family’s home, knowing that everything will be safe and as is when I wake up the following day. As much as I may be bogged down by daily troubles or worries about the future, it is rather easy to be less mindful of the treasures that are here in the present. I dare say that a majority of the world would, in a heartbeat, be more than happy to switch life positions with me, just to experience simple pleasures that I have every single night: sleeping in a warm bed, being together with family, and knowing that everything will be safe.
Why do we suffer?
It is perhaps a great mystery that I will have no answer to for the rest of my life, on why some people are born or have to experience great difficulty or suffering in life, while some others may not. While I may comparatively feel more helpless in alleviating external suffering such as poverty, I have chanced upon meeting individuals from all walks of life sharing experiences of suffering from within. I have met strangers, acquaintances, friends, and clients, who have shared feelings of being unloved and unsafe, similar to how I have felt at certain times. Despite differing backgrounds, this is the common ground that I can share with others, and to which healing is possible.
There was one particular ex-client that had come to mind as I was reflecting on that scene in the movie. He had come to me presenting with a relationship concern, in which his ex-partner had displayed a variety of erratic behaviors stemming from feelings of deep insecurity. He had suffered in the relationship, and had since let go of it. A sturdy and independent man, he was involved in high profile dealings which may not be necessarily legal (details of which was not disclosed in session). Due to safety concerns, he had to distance himself away from family and have minimal contact with people in general. He was not able to enjoy social relationships due to his work’s demands, and will not be able to assume an identity in society.
It was clear to me as sessions progressed that he has moved on from the past relationship. It was also clear to me that he will be continuing in his life choices and has little motivation to do otherwise. It had come to a point in the consultations with him that I found myself to be of little help towards improving his well-being. Objectives have already been met in terms of his mental health. We came to a conclusion that it was time to part ways, and therapy ended.
As I reflect on my time with that client, I strongly believe that he would continue coming in for sessions had I not brought up the topic of ending therapy. We might not even talk about anything relevant towards addressing his life concerns. My feeling is that we could be just sitting there, not speaking a word, or just having tea, and he would still see the value in coming in for sessions.
We all need a safe space.
Just like the scene of Professor X resting in bed, this client too derived a feeling of belonging and safety during the therapy sessions. Due to his life choices, he could not afford to feel belonged to or safe in his day to day life, and our therapeutic relationship was his way of satisfying such needs.
Love, safety, and belonging is indeed a fundamental human need. While I take the time to appreciate the scene in that movie, I also wonder if I had ended the sessions too soon. On the larger scheme of things, with the world lacking so deeply in fulfilling such needs, in what way could I help better?
