What is the function of emotion?

This is for you Structured peeps. This section fits perfectly with a couple of recent conversations we’ve had. It’s in Volume One, page 116:

“So long as you are awake you are aware of something, and that something always carries an emotional tone of some sort. Anything which is a matter of complete indifference, lacking in concern for you – that is, devoid of emotion – simply does not set the figure/ground process in operation to an extent sufficient to enter into awareness.

It is all-important that you become aware of the continuity of your emotional experience. Once emotion is understood to be not a threat to rational control of your life but a guide which furnishes the only basis on which human existence can be ordered rationally, then the way is open to cultivation of continuous awareness of its wise promptings.

To suppose that this would take extra time and attention is not correct. The analogy is crude, but consider the case of the skilled driver of an automobile. For him to be continuously aware that his motor is running smoothly is no burden, for this is not the focus of attention. That the sound of the motor is part of the dynamic figure/ground of his driving, however, and that it is something with which he is concerned, is indicated by the speed with which it becomes figure and claims more attention if it develops some slight, but significant, irregularity. Another driver – perhaps one who does not want to be bothered – will not hear the anomalous sound, or, if he does, will not recognize its meaning and will drive on for as long as he can, oblivious to the damage that may be occurring. To be continuously aware of emotion is possible only when you are willing to be aware of whatever is of genuine concern in your life.”


How Boundaries Can Be Harmful (if you’re doing it wrong)

The word “boundaries” can be kind of dangerous because people hear the advice that they should implement boundaries so they try it with great intentions, but since they don’t fully understand the concept as a whole, it can sometimes backfire and be counterproductive.

It’s a lot like when folks try to start eating healthy and they buy things that say “healthy” on the label. Most health/nutrition experts will tell you to steer clear of something that says “healthy” on it. (Zero calorie soda or gluten free pretzels probably aren’t doing you any health favors.)

So let’s take a look at boundaries so that you’re not trying to improve things but accidentally creating a counter-pressure.

Starting at the heart of the word, a boundary simply means a line between two different things… a delineation… the availability of contrast.

What does this mean for human functioning?

The truest, purest definition of boundaries for our purposes is the line where one person ends and another person begins. So if there’s Person A and Person B, a boundary is what separates the one person from the other. Let’s call this an “I / Thou” boundary. The boundary is the “/”.

Think of it like territory. If you’re driving and someone cuts over into your lane, your boundary has been violated. If you’re at home and someone (uninvitedly) comes onto your property, your boundary has been violated.

Psychologically, boundaries also imply territory. Your territory is your “I.” If someone crosses into your “I,” your boundary has been violated.

Therefore, in this sense, a boundary violation is psychological violence. Not good!

So here’s how people get tripped up:

Sometimes people think of a boundary as a “yes / no” boundary rather than a “Person A / Person B” or “I / Thou” boundary. They think of it as a line between yes and no instead of a line between person and person. If you do this, you’re running the risk of actually violating boundaries and being violent while thinking you’re implementing good boundaries. Aahh!

For example, “yes, I will allow you to do something,” or “no, I will not allow you to do something,” is grossly incorrect. That’s not boundaries. That’s violence and tyranny. That will hurt all of your relationships.

It could still work to think of a boundary as a “yes / no” boundary as long as you’re holding true to the more general and pure definition of “I / thou.” For example, “yes, I will do this.” Or, “no, I will not do that.” Even though it’s a yes / no boundary, it’s still healthy (and effective) because you’ve stayed on your side of the I / thou boundary. You are moving your own “I.”

I hope that’s helpful. It’s a bummer when people try and do healthy things but it accidentally moves things backwards and creates a counter-pressure only because the understanding isn’t complete.

What the heck is a “Self-Concept?”

This post took me forever.  I’d go off on tangents and then do another draft to remove the tangent.  I’d also get dangerously close to “what is a self” which gets controversial and speculative very quickly.   Here’s a draft that contains a small dose of tangents and a small dose of self-theory.

Although a “self-concept” is a very abstract idea, it’s really simple to describe what it is and how to access it.

If you take any element of your life – whether it’s an event, your hair color, your job, your family, your sleep patterns, your car, your age, your dreams, your pets, your sexual practices, your posture – truly ANY aspect of your life – and you stamp the question, “what does that say about me?” on top of it, then you’ve moved into the self-concept territory.

It’s as simple as that.

When you ask yourself “what does that say about me?” it immediately brings answers of “I am [such and such]” which is the self’s concept of self; i.e., self-concept.

But things start to get really tricky really fast.  Already, we’re talking about the “self’s concept of self.”  Wait, what? An entity possessing a concept of its… own self.  What??  The self-concept is a crucial layer to examine but it can also get pretty tangled.  Let’s dissect why.

If our vehicle for getting into the territory is the stamp [what does it say about me?] and we examine the vehicle, we notice how the word “say” (send) implies there must be a contrasting energy of “listen” (receive).

So the self is saying something to the self who’s also listening.  Hmm.  We can see why this gets tricky.  It’s like trying to see your own eyeballs.  You can’t… unless you recruit a mirror.  And, even then, it’s subject to how good your vision is and how clean the mirror is.  There can be a lot of error.

So let’s examine some polar frustrations that can happen from self-concept.  On the one pole, we could use the label: “self-conscious.” Here we find the frustrations of using a lot of energy to examine, filter, worry, and choose.  On the other pole, we could use the label: “lacking insight.” Here we find the frustrations of having to solve the same problems over and over again (because they’re repeatedly created and remain constant).

Now we need to introduce parts-of-self.  Let’s say you have a disturbing dream where you’re doing some really funky things. So far, we have the dreamer who dreamed the dream, yes?  Then if we add the, “what does this say about me,” stamp, we introduce another role. If a part-of-self is saying, “wow, you’re a weirdo for having that dream,” then the dreamer has become a *receiver* of this message and there’s a new part-of-self of judger/sender. This is why self-concept is such a critical layer to examine.  It shows splits and parts, the stuff of inner-conflict.  There’s a view-er and a view-ee; a do-er and a do-ee.

In “self-consciousness” the volume is turned way up for viewer (who also happens to be very judgmental).  There’s the self who’s the doer.  And then there’s the self who’s viewing and judging the doer. Self-consciousness is very frustrating because, ultimately, we all want to dance like no one’s watching.   If you’re on the dance floor and there’s an individual standing a few feet away from you scowling at you and mocking your movements, it would be tough to enjoy dancing.  It’s also probably worth noting that “self-consciousness” has a lot of projection.  Instead of fully realizing, “hey I’m sitting here and judging myself,” it’s projected and experienced as an external fear: “if I do such and such, what are YOU going to think about me?”

To the flip side:  repetition after repetition due to a lack of insight.  If a person *never* asks themselves “what does this say about me?” then they’re discrediting their creative efforts.  If we look at a problem in our lives (especially if it seems repetitive/familiar) and then we wonder “what does it say about me,” then the next automatic step would be diving into how and why the problem is created by our own movements.  If we don’t turn our *sight* *in* (insight) then we’ll be “seeing” (out there) a really frustrating problem happen over and over again but the odds of it changing are very slim because we won’t adjust our own steps.

Here’s a quick peak at theory. In theory, growth entails the self-concept becoming integrated to where, at any given moment, the messages are the same: what the person is *doing* is identical to the concept of *what it says about the person*.  There’s a congruence of intent and message, something like “what it says about me” = “what I’m saying.”  Instead of a gap between [an expressive, creative behavior] and [a concept of self], there’s a confluence and sameness between them, like: “what I’m saying is what it says about me is what I’m saying.” In growing, the two come closer and closer.

On the contrary, growth also entails self-concept becoming more and more irrelevant.  Health simply means having a vast range of abilities to respond fittingly to different contexts in different moments.  Attributes of “character” aren’t as relevant because different situations call for different responses.  A concept of “I am warm” might actually be a detriment if there’s a situation that would be best suited with a “cold” response.  Self-concept, seen this way, becomes more and more  flexible and dynamic with growth to where it’s basically rendered irrelevant.  The self actually loses any sort of a fixed structure.  Perls loved this and talked about how he felt more and more like “nothing” as he grew.  Bruce Lee talked about this in terms of “be water.”

When I began this post, my intent wasn’t to examine two polar frustrations that relate to self-concept, nor to talk about self/growth theory. I just wanted to paint a quick picture of what self-concept is – and how to access that layer – so that I can talk about how you can get a two-for-one for your efforts; a psychological snowball effect; a buy-one-get-one for the same energy cost.  So here’s what the post was originally going to include before I went off on tangents:

There’s a huge difference in the value of completing tasks depending on whether the task touches your self-concept or not.  If you vacuum your house, you get the reward of the satisfaction of vacuuming your house.  And you get a vacuumed house.  If it didn’t touch your self-concept, then that’s all the reward you get.  No more.  HOWEVER, if your self-concept is “I am a dirty person” -> “I vacuumed my house” -> “what does that say about me” -> “maybe I’m not a dirty person!”  Now you have an unspeakably larger reward for your output.  When you complete a task and it also touches your self-concept, the reward is so much larger to the point where it can snowball bigger and bigger into, “what else am I capable of?!”

When we realize how much dead energy sits around in our personalities because of self-concept – “I am [such and such]” – and then we start hunting for how to get buy-one-get-one snowball effects, we can really get some things moving.

Try playing with it.  Try to differentiate tasks based on whether they touch your self-concept or not.  If you’re not sure, just take a quick moment and think, “what does this say about me,” and it must mean “I am [fill in the blank].”  This layer of life called the “self-concept” can really open up avenues for getting a lot more reward for your output and unlocking a lot of patterns and stale energy.

Try it with this post.  What does it say about you that you read this?  Fill in the blank: “I am [blank].”

“I am a bad-ass who is going to keep challenging myself and improving so that I can keep getting more and more engaged with the world and make the most out of my life.”

“I am a hopeless case who reads mental health articles because I can’t quite get it together.”

“I am inquisitive about the inner-workings of my psyche.”

Big differences, yes?  Even though the fact was the same (fact = I read this article), doing a quick peak at the self-concept layer can make a world of difference. Try to choose the tasks that go straight at the parts of your self-concept that need the love.

Be the snowball.  (The devil whispers to the warrior, “you’re not strong enough to withstand this storm.”  The warrior replies, “I am the storm.”)




Respect is one of those vital abilities we can start learning in our childhood. It’s obviously not binary (“yes I’ve learned it” or “no I haven’t”). It’s on a continuum and we can always keep improving.

Some groundwork:

There’s a term called complementarity in systems theory. When people say “opposites attract,” they’re talking about complementarity. If one partner loves the pizza portion and the other partner loves the crusts, that’s complementarity.  It’s like puzzle pieces: if the one piece is caved in, it will fit perfectly with a piece that sticks out.  Symmetry is where the puzzle pieces go together because they have the exact same straight lines.  In symmetry, both partners simply love pizza, period.

Complementarity is where there’s a perfect opposite-ness.  Symmetry is where there’s a perfect same-ness.

They are the reasons we fit together as we move through the world.  They create a certain balance in a relationship (not necessarily a healthy or sustainable balance, but a balance nonetheless).

Back to respect.

Respect is one of the lines around our personalities that determine the shape of our puzzle piece and what kind of people we fit best with.

Since it’s an ability (like everything else) it’s not a static line.  It’s a skill.  The line can be moved.  In addition, it potentially aims in both directions:  an “inward” respect (self-respect) and an “outward” respect (towards other people, laws of nature, etc).

A quick and rough template to make the respect-skill visible:

Regarding adults: it can be summed up by being ok with difference – not being offended if someone has a different view – not trying to conquer the other person’s view to make it more like your own – not feeling an automatic need to change/hide your own view if it meets opposition.

Regarding parenting: it’s not trying to control your child. You still want to shape your child, yes, but you shape them best by controlling what’s in *your* control. You don’t try to over-power them. You leave them a sense of choice with a clear description of things *you* will do (or not do) depending on what choices they make. This teaches them respect. It teaches them worth: the worth of others, relationships, decisions, and self-worth. It teaches them creativity and responsibility: how their choices create results. It teaches them to look for feedback loops, many of which come from nature. It makes them thoughtful and full of care. If you use your power to over-power your child, you create a funky shaped puzzle piece; a shape that has a hard time learning the skill of respect.

Please notice how, in both examples – the adulthood one and the parenting one, it’s about the use of power.  Respect, power, and violence are a part of the same package.

Done with groundwork.  The main point I’d like to illustrate:

If we didn’t learn a large dose of respect in childhood, we have some work to do in order to re-balance. We’re probably either too “respectful” of other people (letting people harm us) or we’re too “respectful” of ourselves (doing harm to others).

They’re both in quotes because it’s not a balanced, healthy picture.

There’s harm!

In ultimate respectfulness, when our respect-ability is pulsing vitally in both directions, we are careful (1) not to harm others and (2) not to be harmed.  If our puzzle-piece-shape is one of the two versions in quotes (even though it kind of looks like “respect”) there’s too much harm happening.  Those are shapes that leave us lonely, confused, and/or hurt because we can’t nestle up comfortably in the puzzle.  One of our primary needs isn’t met: a sense of belonging.

The point of these words is to show how deceptive those two versions are.  They look like respect… but they aren’t whole.  They aren’t balanced. And we can really mess ourselves up by leaving the respect-skill underdeveloped (leaning heavily in one direction) because it’s a skill that goes right down into one of our primary needs.


Indirect vs Direct Coping – How Do They Fit With Avoidance?

Sometimes therapists will “teach coping skills.”  I was about halfway through grad school, all jazzed up about counseling, when I changed from a behavior modification service (BHRS) to a therapy service (FBMHS).  Excited about the opportunity to work more deeply with people, I remember vividly being surprised when I heard several of my colleagues talk about “coping skills.” It took me a while before I had the ability to articulate why this was rubbing me in a weird way.

“Teaching coping skills” is a collusion of avoidance.

Therapists teach coping skills for the same reason clients avoid confronting their situations:

It’s a fear of not being able to change the problem – a fear of being consumed by the problem, in essence killed by the problem – a feeling of inadequacy and hopelessness.  Those are all really good reasons to avoid a problem!  If there’s a chance it’ll kill you, by all means avoid it!

So when people talk about coping skills, they’re often agreeing that the best idea is avoidance and maintenance of the status quo.

Let’s closely examine the concept of “coping” and let’s break it down into two categories:  “indirect coping” and “direct coping.”  It’s important to be skilled in both categories and it’s also important to see the difference between the two so you can choose mindfully and make sure you’re not settling for less than what you’re capable of.

An indirect coping skill is if my boss makes me angry and I go home and sprint a mile to blow off steam – or my dog dies and I have a beer – or my sister yells at my child so I beat up a punching bag. These aren’t necessarily unhealthy. Exercise is good and sometimes a beer really hits the spot. The only downside to indirect coping is if we never consider direct coping.  Indirect coping skills don’t actually change anything about the problem that’s causing the need for coping.

To go a step further, sometimes indirect coping skills can cause a more serious problem when it turns cyclical: being tired so I have a cup of coffee – being broke so I take out a loan – being mad at my boss so I yell at my wife, etc.

Direct coping skills, on the other hand, is a confrontation of the problem: an approach to the thing that’s causing the discomfort. It could be internal or external.

External: approaching the boss or the sister and trying to come to a resolution. Doing “chair work” to my dog and saying how much I miss him and I hope he had a great life.

Internal: searching myself to see why the boss bothers me so much. What are the self-concept messages that get activated? Examining myself to see if I have unresolved things with sister from before my child was even born.

Again, neither coping style is inherently better than the other. When we’re functioning optimally, they’re usually intertwined: like an indirect coping skill (deep breath) in order to gather my thoughts in order to do a direct coping skill (approach my sister to ask her to consider the impact she’s having on my child).

Let’s go back to the therapy side of things. We often utilize indirect coping skills when we don’t believe we have a fighting chance against the actual problem. If I feel hopeless that I won’t be able to create any change towards my sister, I won’t take the risk. If I feel inadequate in my interpersonal skills or in my value as an employee, I won’t approach my boss in order to try and make change. So when therapists “teach coping skills” (usually meaning the indirect kind), they’re often accidentally communicating to the client: “I don’t think you (or I) have what it takes to solve the actual problem and make things lastingly better for you.” Bummer, right? This is also closely connected to the difference between intervening to “treat the symptom” versus “treating the problem.”

The last crucial piece is the very-hard-to-reach attitude of viewing problems as opportunities. This is so difficult to do in real life. It’s much easier to type about while drinking coffee.

It goes something like this:

Each problem is an opportunity. Each problem is a lesson about yourself to teach you where you’re vulnerable to get your peace, joy, and grace stolen. Each problem shows you the perfect template for the exercises you need to do in order to strengthen the whole of your personality. Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning” is a great resource to keep this part of you burning.

In sum, it’s important to recognize the difference between “direct” and “indirect” coping. And it’s important to really ask yourself how much change you think you can make.  If we only do indirect coping, we’re still spending a lot of energy… but the overall configuration doesn’t change.  Are you avoiding certain exercises? Are you selling yourself short? Is it worth the risk? Is there a growth opportunity if you directly confront the problem?

Common Factors vs Evidence Based; a Q & A

I’m not proud of how little I’ve posted here over the last several months.  I’m hoping to be able to combine some energies from some different contexts and be able to put more up here.  For example, this post is a Q&A from an MFT student about the similarities, differences, and overlap between Evidence Based versus Common Factors approaches.  I also do some writing for some different services here and I could start placing them on the blog as well.  I also love getting theory-based emails.  And it makes sense to start uploading those here too, instead of writing back to one person at a time.  Stay tuned.  I hope there’s going to be an increase in production in this area.


Here’s the Q & A:



1. In your practice, do you tend to follow an Evidence-Based approach to selecting treatment options or a Common Factors approach?

I honestly hadn’t heard the term “Common Factors” in a long time so I had to google what that meant. Once I got the refresher, I still felt a little at a loss about how to answer. So #1 is going to really pull from #10 in order to make sense of an answer. I fully identify with gestalt. Here’s a run-down of the love story. In my last semester of undergrad, I had one professor for two psych classes. One of them was Family Systems and the other one, although I forget what the class was, had us read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. I learned I loved both of these things: Existential Psychology and Systems Theory. The same professor taught in the MFT program in Grad School so I followed him. He taught the very first course in the MFT program, Counseling Theory, during which he made the following comment: “Don’t ever say you’re eclectic. If you say you’re eclectic, it means you don’t actually know anything. Pick a theory (or two) and dive completely into it until you completely understand it.” Being like a baby bird with its mouth open ready to be fed, I took this to heart and started diving. I still get a little judgmental twinge whenever I hear a therapist say they’re “eclectic.” So I kept studying Systems Theory via the MFT program and my love for existential therapy grew as I started studying Irvin Yalom extracurricularly. (That same professor in that same course also said: “If you think you might want to practice from an existential perspective, you should be thoroughly on your way if you read “Existential Psychotherapy” by Irvin Yalom.” I’m pretty sure I ordered it as soon as I got home.)

So grad school progressed and I continued studying and loving existentialism and systems theory. Embarrassingly, I remember writing, “I don’t think there’s a lot of literature/research regarding the integration of these two theories,” and I wondered if that would be a niche for me in the field since they were my passions.

In an absolutely separate process, I had a different professor towards the end of grad school who said, “I’m Nick Hanna and I am gestalt. I follow the work of Irvin Yalom.” This was a little mind blowing for me since I hadn’t equated “gestalt” with “Yalom” before. Nonetheless, I was actually more struck with Dr. Hanna’s presence and I strongly wanted to possess whatever it was he had.

Several classes later, I had another professor and I thought, “hmm. It seems like you have some of whatever Dr. Hanna has. I don’t know what that is, but I want it.” Sure enough, about the halfway through the class, she said, “I’m gestalt.” “Ah ha!” I thought, “I’m on to something!”

A third class: a different professor: I’m thinking, “you haven’t mentioned it yet, but I can smell it on you. You have that thing, don’t you?” So I stayed after class one day and asked her if gestalt was an influence on her and she said, “absolutely, how did you know?” I said, “I have no idea.” She said, “I have the head of the Gestalt Institute of Pittsburgh on speed dial and it’s the time of the year for enrollment. Would you like me to give him your information?” Goodness yes. So I finished the MFT program and immediately attended the Gestalt Institute. The program was largely experiential, so I had to feed my theory-obsession extracurricularly. Turns out, gestalt is the integration of quite a few things, most notably systems theory and existential-phenomenology. Who knew? So all of my passions started channeling into a passion for gestalt.

So, to return to Question #1, gestalt doesn’t usually come to mind when people are naming “evidenced based” therapies. Personally, I don’t really have value for that term because I believe anything can be cooked up in a lab. And I think there’s a danger for therapists to be too “evidence” focused because then they’re thinking too much about the labs and not enough about people, nature, and life.

But I also wouldn’t have called myself “Common Factors” because that sounds more like “eclectic.” That said, I consider gestalt a *whole* theory and whenever I study things like Motivational Interviewing, DBT, REBT, Rogerian, Mindfulness-Based, EFT, and certainly CBT, I see them as clearly fitting with gestalt, just emphasizing certain *parts* of gestalt. Put everything together, form a whole, and you get gestalt.

So I suppose if I had to smoosh all these thoughts into one sentence and answer the question, it would be: “I am Common Factors because gestalt is integrative of all things and yet it hasn’t spent time in labs to make people see it as ‘Evidence Based.’”

2. Why have you chosen the approach you use? Why have you not chosen the alternative?

I do what I believe is best. It seems like “Common Factors” acknowledges there are truths that are pulled from a wide variety of camps. The danger of dogma is we may miss out on truths because they don’t have the right label as a source. It seems like “Common Factors” invites truths from whatever the source and ties them together. This aligns with where I am but, like I said, I wasn’t very sure of the term so I don’t know if I’m thinking about “Common Factors” correctly.

3. Have you spoken with colleagues about this topic? What option do they follow in their approach to choosing treatment options?

Yes. Some people are obsessed with evidence-based and I wouldn’t refer my close friends and family to them. I think there’s something to be said for focusing more on the torment in the soul and the fear of loss/change/death rather than focusing on what’s happening in a controlled environment somewhere else. I prefer therapists who focus on their clients.

4. What factors do you believe contribute the most to effective therapy in general? In other words, what actually contributes to changes a client (individual, couple or family) may make during the course of therapy (or soon thereafter)?

The first several things that come to mind are: empathy / understanding / acceptance / movement / choicefulness. I think that’s what we give to the clients so they can take it with them when they go. I think change happens from a spiraling exploration of those things, leaving clients with an increased sense of self (which could be synonymous with an increased sense of options or an increased sense creativity/efficacy). I appreciate the way the question is worded where the “client” can be the individual, the couple, or the family. I’m glad you’re in an MFT program. I think they do the best prepping as far as clinical skills.

5. Can you explain a little more about the significance of each of the factors you just mentioned?

I think we seek therapy when we have too strong of a sense of stuckness with too strong of a fear of change/loss. That’s a rock and a hard place.

6. Do the important factors change based on the needs of the clients? If yes, how so? If no, why not?

No, because the tension between homeostasis and novelty is universal and natural. Those two forces *are* the needs of the client. And there’s fear of death and a striving for preservation on both poles. Too much homeostasis is a loss of all and too much novelty is a loss of all. Therapy is helping the client enjoy the dance between those two forces and poles.

7. How important do you believe the therapeutic relationship/alliance is for your therapeutic outcome? What aspects of the therapeutic relationship are particularly important?

The therapeutic alliance is what differentiates us from self-help-books. It is of utmost importance. I think this is universal across all counseling theories but each theory would have a different answer for which aspects are important. This would be the “Battle for Structure” (Whitaker) and each theory emphasizes how to create the structure (relationship/context) they believe is most helpful. For me, it’s important they start to believe I am truly of service to their best interest. This often means there’s a directional change: at first they think I will tell them what’s best for them and then they learn they will tell me what’s best for them… and I will be listening closely.

The other huge reason the therapeutic alliance is important is the efficiency of the energy usage. If a client is using energy to defend against me, that’s wasted energy because I wasn’t the original problem that brought them to therapy. If there’s a true therapeutic alliance and they trust where I am coming from, then they (and we) can use *all* of the energy in order to tackle their psychological configurations and their original problem.

When I’m working with supervisees, I use the analogy of cleaners coming into your house, taking the milk out of the fridge, spilling it on the floor, and then using their time to clean it up. Even though there’s work happening and they’re cleaning, it produces a net effect of zero. A strong therapeutic alliance ensures our energy is used to tackle the things that matter… the things that brought them to the office in the first place.

8. To what extent do you believe hope and expectancy impact the outcome of therapy?

They need to have enough hope and expectancy to make it to the office and then we need to have enough hope and expectancy to energize the movement.

9. If you had to make an educated guess as to how important your theoretical model(s) or techniques are in determining the success of therapy, what would you say (scale from 0-100; 0= not important, 100 = the most important factor)?

Since it is 100% of what I am, 100% of what I do, and 100% and what they get, I’d give it 100. I have judgment for the word “technique.” It sounds too disconnected from the organic flow of energy and the depths of the I/Thou. “Technique” sounds more like “text-book” which sounds like “self-help book.” We can be better than that. Clients benefit when we are more than that.

10. What is your general theoretical orientation? How did you develop this approach?

Long-winded #1

11. What is one piece of advice that you can give me about developing my own counseling approach/theoretical orientation that may help me become the most effective counselor that I can be?

There’s a perfect reason each person is exactly the way they are. Don’t try and take that away from them. Explore them and learn them. This will help them learn themselves and will make them more able. Don’t *try* and change them. This is violence. Don’t be violent. Learn them. They will change in the process. At the center of gestalt is a concept called the “paradox of change.” When you connect fully with what exists as is, change happens naturally. This is the good type of change (learning/assimilation/integration/flow). If you’re aiming primarily at change rather than the whole, it will strengthen the force of homeostasis and then change will be more actively (naturally) resisted. Then the therapist will get frustrated with the client (even though the client is actually resisting in a beautiful, healthy, self-preserving way), the client will get frustrated with the therapist and themselves, and self-concepts will be split and damaged for them both. That’s not good for anyone. An understanding of the complementary yet polarized forces of homeostasis and novelty is crucial and it’s important that we see the whole of the client, not just violently pushing for the change of a part. This can be avoided very simply if you, as the therapist, genuinely have the intent of learning about the client. This, to me, is the respectfulness towards the client within the I/Thou approach coupled with the understanding and respect of the very powerful forces within nature (existentialism + systems). The change that happens when we have this respect and intent is very true and complete.

In short, don’t try and change the client so that you feel good about yourself. Learn how to explore *with* them. Then they will change and you *both* will feel good about yourselves. Therapy can be very fun and rewarding for both of you. A very strong clinician and I were joking around the other day and we agreed, “if you get ‘compassion fatigue,’ you’re doing it wrong.”

Exploration, Choice, and Payoff (an examination of the phrase, “I’m good at helping others but I can’t help myself.”)

I’ll occasionally come across the phrase, “I’m good at helping others but I can’t help myself.”  I want to break this down a little bit and highlight a few concepts.

If we hold the first part of the phrase under a microscope, here’s how it looks: “I’m good at listening to a person’s situation, making an assessment of their available options, and then giving them advice about what they should do next.”

There is nothing wrong with that.  That’s what some therapists do.  And it helps some people.  The downside is the frustration in the second part: that they “can’t help themselves.”

Here’s how the frustration looks under a microscope: “When I examine my own situation, I usually come up with advice for myself about what I should do.  But then I run into some serious difficulty in following through with the plan.  I can’t get myself to do what I should do.”

So let’s check this out.

It’s a problem of exploration, choice, and payoff – and ultimately, like everything else, energy flow.  To put it another way, it’s an insight problem followed by a stalemate of energy and behavior.

Whenever we fully want to do something, we move into it with grace, ease, passion, interest, care, eagerness (and many other really positive sounding words).

Whenever we partially want to do something, the behavioral flow loses some of its power and force.  The more partial it is, the harder it is to follow through with the task.  If I partially want to get my paperwork done but I partially want to go to bed, it’s going to be pretty hard to get my paperwork done.  If going to bed ends up trumping the paperwork (51% bed, 49% paperwork) then I’m going to bed.  I might not be able to sleep because some of me still wants to have my paperwork done.  Makes sense, right?  It’s pretty straightforward: desires come in percentages.  Some desires compete.  The largest one wins.  Unfortunately (in this culture – for most people – and arguably even due to the human condition) the times when we have a desire that has 100% fullness are rare.  Desires spend most of their time in conflict with other ones.

There’s a big difference between a “should” and a “want.”  A “should” is an encryption.  It keeps you from knowing the exact number of the percentage of “want.”  It conceals/hides the valuable data.  That’s why we encrypt things… to conceal the actual data.

People become a lot sturdier and free-flowing once they explore their personalities, find the “shoulds,” and become hackers: unencrypting them and uncovering the valuable data of the actual percentages.  Some “shoulds” become high-percentage-wants and they’re so much easier to flow with.  Some “shoulds” become low-percentage-wants and they can be more easily disregarded.  The tougher ones are when the percentages are close (like my bed-to-paperwork example).  When the percentages are close, that’s where we’ll feel stuck because any movement will be the loss of a huge chunk of energy/desire.  If I choose the 51% winner, that’s 49% of myself that’s not on board.  That’s a big loss of fuel!

So let’s head back to the “I can’t help myself” example.  Let’s also define “advice” as a “should.”  When we ask someone for advice, we’re saying, “please assess my situation and tell me what I should do.”  The sticking point ends up being a less-than-full evaluation of the wants.  So whenever someone says, “I can’t help myself,” they’re saying, “I’ve assessed my situation and given myself advice (shoulds) but I can’t get myself to behaviorally follow it through.”  This makes sense now, right?  There are encryptions.  The behaviors won’t flow unless there’s enough “want juice” flowing into it.

So here’s where it gets more complex because, if we want to rearrange the stalemate and create movement, we would need to develop the insight into functions.

Every whole wants to preserve itself – whether it’s a whole culture, a whole nation, a whole business, a whole pattern, a whole family, a whole creature, whatever.  An animal will gnaw off its leg if it’s trapped and it can’t think of a better way to preserve the whole.  Each human being is a whole.  We seek to preserve ourselves.   Every choice has a function of self-preservation.

So when we run into a problem where we can’t quite get ourselves to do what we think we should, we’re battling against a self-preservation desire that’s larger than the encrypted should.  Rather than beat yourself up about why you’re not following through, it’s much healthier to try and move downwards into your personality and start to look for the payoffs to the choices.   Give yourself more credit.  At the roots of you, there’s a perfect reason why you’re doing what you’re doing.  If you can’t quite see it yet, give yourself some time to fully examine your desires, your hopes, your fears.  Try to move into the confusion/frustration (where the encryptions live) in order to map out those parts of you.  They are obviously strong enough to influence you, so you might as well spend some time there.  You might as well try to ally with those strengths rather than beat yourself up about not being able to overpower them.  All the parts of you have vitality.  All the parts of you are attempting to serve you for the greatest good.  The goal is to tap into all of your vitality so you can move as one beautiful whole.

Once things are mapped out, they make perfect sense.  You make sense.  The world makes sense.  Give yourself some credit and some time.  Keep exploring.  Keep mapping.