Last night I watched the latest episode of HBO's Divorce starring Sarah Jessica Parker.  The series follows her character, Frances, as she is navigating separation and likely divorce from her husband, Robert, played by Thomas Haden Church.  The episode, entitled Counseling, follows the unhappy couple into a few sessions with their couples therapist.  Now, of course, TV isn't real life, and I realize that writers are looking to put forth storytelling points, not a word-for-word transcript of an actual therapy session.  My concern, however, is that a couple in need who may not be therapy-savvy may see this portrayal and be discouraged from reaching out for help.  

In the episode, the therapist said very little and did not engage when the couple was clearly struggling to find some path forward.  The therapist appeared cold and withdrawn, almost detached, writing away on her notepad.  I, and many of my colleagues, approach working with couples in a very different way.  We see ourselves as collaborative, looking to enlist all parties' participation in finding solutions, softening defenses, and re-establishing emotional safety and connection.  If you are in a relationship that could benefit from some improved communication (and, honestly, who couldn't?), I invite you to consider therapy as a place of hope and help.  Even if a note or two gets jotted down.

Questions for you:  Have you ever been to couples' therapy?  What worked?  Was your experience like that of the characters in Divorce​, or was it more relational?  I'd love to hear your thoughts.  

I recently finished Meghan Daum's compelling book of essays, The Unspeakable.  She writes poignantly about her life and observations.  Her essay "The Dog Exception" was, well, no exception.  A particular paragraph stuck with me and I wanted to share it, as I come across this sentiment often when counseling a client grieving a pet.  Sometimes, there's a disowning of the grief, a fear that others may minimize the pain since "it was only a dog (a cat, a hamster, a bird...)."  I find Meghan Daum's words to hold validation for those who have suffered a similar loss and permission to grieve wholeheartedly.

On losing her dog Rex, she writes:

Have you ever felt this way at the loss of a beloved pet?  I'd love to hear your thoughts and whether or not this resonated with you.  

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the concept of pausing.  Reflection.  Mindfulness. 

Many of us lead busy lives, and we like it that way.  Being always on the go feels good, like something is being accomplished.  We feel energized, productive.  But to what end are we racing? 

I recently reached a big goal in my life that I’d been working to achieve for nearly seven years.  My finish line had been so concrete, so unwavering.  I saw it and kept moving in its direction, step by step.  The clarity of the goal served as motivation, and helped me continue on what was an often-frustrating path filled with obstacles.  And what did I do when I finally reached this self-imposed finish line?  I just kept on running. 

A few days afterwards I came across a post on Facebook.  A woman posted photos of her stove, with a bubbling pot of stew atop, and her dog curled up on the kitchen floor.  The scene looked cozy and nurturing.  She commented that she’d just passed a huge test that had taken months of study and preparation.  Now, she wanted to spend some time in the subsequent week cooking, just for the pleasure of it.  It struck me that this woman had had the self-awareness to pause, appreciate her accomplishment, and turn her attention towards self-care.

As a therapist, I’m a huge fan of self-care.  But reading the Facebook post made me realize that there was room for improvement on that front.  While I may not choose to take a week off to cook, I can find time each day to pause and to appreciate where I’ve been, where I’m going, and, most importantly, where I am in the present moment.  If we make life all about reaching endless finish lines, we may never notice each step along the way.

How do you practice self-care?  How do you incorporate mindfulness into your life?

Don’t you just love it when you are inspired by something new?  Something you read a book, saw in a film, heard in a conversation?  That’s how I felt after reading about the distinction between romantic love and human love in Robert A. Johnson’s book “We: Understanding the Psychology of Romantic Love.” 

Johnson uses the story of Tristan and Isault (the precursor to Romeo and Juliet) to examine and illustrate the role that romantic love plays in our society.  Using a Jungian perspective, he asserts that the phenomenon of romantic love has taken the place of religion in modern society as a place where we look for meaning and completeness; it’s something that we strive for and exalt.  Romantic love is the stuff of poetry and myth; it’s the projection of our own idealizations on our partner, the “butterflies in the stomach.” 

By contrast, human love is the everyday.  It’s not glamorous and sparkling; it’s the “we’re in this together, paying the bills, getting the kids to school” quotidian kind of love.  It’s the partnership, the seeing the other as a human being, flaws and all, and loving them as they truly are.  It’s the removal of idealizations, expectations, and demands for transcendence that we place upon another human being in the name of “being in love.”

If the idea of human love strikes you as dull by comparison, there’s no need to banish romantic love.  You can put it in its place by turning it inward.  Take the idealizations that you’ve placed on your partner, and incorporate them as your own “inner ideal.”  Doing so enriches your own inner world, and frees you to love your partner in a realistic, human way.  Here’s how Johnson distinguishes it:

“But one of the great needs of modern people is to learn the difference between human love as a basis for relationship, and romantic love as an inner ideal, a path to the inner world.  Love does not suffer from being freed from the belief systems of romantic love.  Love’s status will only improve as love is distinguished from romance.” 

Certainly this brief overview only touches the surface of the concepts presented in this book.  If this piques your interest enough to learn how your relationships can flourish under this perspective, I encourage you to explore the book. If you have thoughts on human vs. romantic love, please comment below. 

At the end of Elyn Saks' courageous and fascinating memoir about her struggles with schizophrenia, she reflects on what it was that helped support her along the way.  I can hardly think of a better description of how the therapeutic relationship between therapist and client can be so transformational, and I wanted to share her words with you.

"Medication has no doubt played a central role in helping me manage my psychosis, but what has allowed me to see the meaning in my struggles - to make sense of everything that happened before and during the course of my illness, and to mobilize what strengths I may possess into a rich and productive life - is talk therapy.  People like me with a thought disorder are not supposed to benefit much from this kind of treatment, a talk therapy oriented toward insight and based upon a relationship.  But I have.  There may be a substitute for the human connection - for two people sitting together in a room, one of them with the freedom to speak her mind, knowing the other is paying careful and thoughtful attention - but I don't know what that substitute might be.  It is, at the heart of things, a relationship, and for me it has been the key to every other relationship I hold precious."
 
                         ~ Elyn R. Saks, "The Center Cannot Hold"

When it comes to social advocacy for my transgender clients, I can get to feeling powerless to affect much change on a big scale.  Although there is greater awareness in popular media about trans folk, there’s still a vast amount of work to be done.  Some of my transgender clients talk about being on the receiving end of discrimination, job loss, others’ ignorance and spite, and worse.  I feel that it’s my job as a therapist not only to help all of my clients acknowledge feelings and find solutions to better cope with issues in their lives, but to be, in my small way, an agent of affirmative change. 

This brings me to the “one little step:” shining a light on how gender-binary most everyday forms are.  Have you ever noticed (if you’re trans, you probably have!) that when you go to fill out a new intake form at a doctor’s office, counseling center, even a gym class, you’ll be asked to check a box to identify your gender.  Male or female.  Those are your two choices.  But what do you do when you don’t identify neatly into one of these two rigid boxes?  What if your internal sense of your gender doesn’t match the sex assigned to you at birth?  What if you perceive gender as much more fluid a concept and don’t find yourself on either far end of the spectrum?  In a 2011 survey of over 1000 transgender people, Forge (forge-forward.org) found that having trans-friendly intake forms was “extremely or very important” factor to 59% of respondents in whether or not to seek services at an anti-violence agency.  This factor was second only to the reputation of the agency.  This data indicates that gender-binary forms may not be so “little” a thing to people who identify as transgender or genderqueer, their allies and loved ones.

With this in mind, I’ve taken the opportunity to advocate whenever I’m asked to fill out a form and I see only those two boxes for male or female.  Instead of mindlessly checking “female” as I had done in the past, I check neither and write something along these lines on the form:  “This gender-binary form excludes those who identify as gender non-conforming and transgender.  Please consider changing it to a more inclusive model.”  Often, the comments go unnoticed or unmentioned (at least in front of me).  However, there are times when they spark a discussion, like when my opthalmologist asked me about my comments and I had the opportunity to explain gender diversity in more detail.

Okay, I realize that this only scratches the surface of the issues that our society faces when it comes to embracing gender diversity.  But, this is one little thing that I do, and if you like the idea, you can do it, too.

Here's another link to an article published on the Personal Development Cafe site.  Take a look at #7 to see my contribution: Check in with yourself.  How Not To Lose Yourself in a Relationship.

"The devil's a liar!  Don't listen to him!  There are angels all around you!"

No, these weren't the words belted out across the pews at a church on a Sunday morning.  This was inspiration found in a weekday funk dance class.

I'd decided to try an intriguing new class, CardioFunk, offered at my local gym.  Scanning the others in the studio, it was clear that I wasn't going to be the only one relatively new to this style.  There's something about dancing that can bring out insecurities and self-consciousness, making an otherwise capable adult feel as vulnerable as a gangly teen at a school formal. 

Luckily, the instructor was onto us.  Milo had enough experience teaching hip hop to suburbanites to know that we just might be feeling, well, a touch un-cool.  That's when he started with the verbal support.

"Don't listen to that voice that's bringing you down.  That's the devil and he's a liar! Let loose and dance like you're alone at home."

Milo's words were enthusiastic enough to override the negative thoughts that were threatening to derail our fun.  His message was clear: the more you just go for it, the more confident you'll look and feel.  I often use cognitive behavioral therapy techniques in my counseling work.  I know how powerful our thoughts can be in affecting our feelings.  Who knew I'd be reminded of a principle of psychology in my morning gym class?  Thank you, Milo, for guiding us out of our heads and onto the dance floor.

Our lives get busy and, before we know it, we're already turning the corner to a new year.  The winter season is a good reminder to slow down, reflect, and take a moment to appreciate that which has meaning in our lives.  The new year is also a time of renewed hope, providing us with motivation to recommit to our goals.  Mindfulness, or, being fully present in the moment, is a way to savor the experiences that define our lives.  In this festive season, I hope you take the opportunity to feel and express gratitude for where you've been, where you're going, and for those who have shared joyfully in your journey.

Wishing you a beautiful new year,

Marnee