So there’s this thing that happens sometimes when you’re a
therapist. I call it, “When you don’t follow your own damn advice.” Let me paint
the picture:
A client is having a difficult time relaxing because they
have “too much to do.” And let me be clear, in this scenario I’m not talking
about the single mom so strapped for cash that she is working three jobs while
also childrearing—that’s a bit different.
The clients I’m talking about are the college students who are double-majoring
and working in a lab and participating in a bajillion clubs, and the parents who
have their kids signed up for every possible out-of-school activity while also
working, maintaining a home, and participating in community organizations, etc. When I ask these sorts of clients why they’re doing
the things that they’re doing, the most common response is that scrunchy,
lip-curly facial expression that implies that they think I might be dim, and the
old standard: “Because I have to.”
The thing is, though, that that they don’t have to. There are really only a few things that we absolutely
have to do—you know, the things that
we do to avoid foreclosure on our homes, or failing or course, or certain
death. And truly, even those things are choices. Think about it. I could blow off my clients and not show up at work, any given day. Instead, I could laze about on the couch in my PJs while watching Parks & Rec on Netflix and eating
entire cheesecakes while intermittently, peacefully dozing (which may or may
not be a recurring fantasy of mine). But I choose not to do those things— to
avoid negative consequences, not because I have
to.
Which leads me to my next client intervention, which is when
I say something like, “How congruent are your life choices with your values?”
This can lead into a really cool phase of therapy, when people are actively
thinking about their values (sometimes for the first time), and then, when the
therapy stars align with Jupiter or Mars or some shit, making changes so that
their lives are made of things that they choose,
rather than lives built around guilt, avoidance of pain/hurt, or martyrdom.
Eureka! It’s amazing stuff, when it works.
On the heels of intervening in this way with a client, I
self-reflect. And ooooh boy, does that self-reflection get me every time. Not only
do I have a mini-crisis of conscience (i.e., “What the hell are you doing with
your life, Allison?”), but I get the added bonus of getting to feel like a huge
hypocrite—that is, the whole “you can’t follow your own damn advice”
phenomenon. I can’t even do the thing that I’m asking clients to do. In sum,
this is a sucky experience. And it happens to me all the time.
Now, doubtless some of you readers are getting all high and
mighty right about now. You’re looking at your screen dubiously, disdainfully. Your
chests are all puffed out, your chins are held high. You might be flexing your biceps in the mirror
a little bit, just to remind yourself of your physical prowess. (I have no idea
where I’m getting this stuff. Just go with it.) Your thoughts are along
the lines of: “Well, I’VE got it all
together. I know what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.” And you know what, some
of you probably really do have things pretty in line, and I honestly think that’s
terrific. Keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll have less of a chance of ever
needing to come work with a hypocrite therapist like me.
But as for the rest of you righteous chin thrusting bicep-flexors, the ones of you that sort of know you don't have it all together but have a hard time admitting it: you’re
scared of vulnerability, and that’s understandable—but the life that you’re
living is driven by fear. Like literally, fear is sitting in the driver’s seat
of your metaphorical life car. Do you
want that?
I’m also intuiting that there will be a segment of you out
there who are thinking, “Well, crap. I know I value X but I spend a lot of time
doing Y,” or possibly “I don’t even know what my values are.” What I want to
say to you is: it’s okay. You’re human. And because you’re human, you’re not
perfect and you’re never going to be. But you can learn more about your values
and find ways to life your life in step with them.
Do you hear that compassion? I can readily dish it out to
others, but have a hard time spooning even tiny bites of it to myself. (Another
hypocrite therapist moment! Yay!) I’m
working on it, though. Moving towards showing myself empathy and accepting myself as (very) imperfect will be a lifelong process.
Fortunately, even in accepting the inherent messiness of me
and my life, there are some things I can do to get my shit a little bit more together.
I can make a concerted effort to spend more time doing the things that I really
care about, and that really bring joy to my life. That’s what this blog is all
about, actually. Some things that I value are: creativity and new ideas,
connection, authenticity, humor, compassion, self-care, and psychology/mental
health/wellbeing (duh). This blog will be a venue for all of these pieces of
me, a place where they can party and dance on the tables for awhile. They
desperately want to, and I’m going to let them.
And that’s it. That’s the most cohesive thing I can say
about this, my latest venture in cyberspace creativity. I’m going to write about stuff that I care
about. My only agenda is to keep writing—because that will be one sign that I
kept trying.
