Long ago in college (half my lifetime ago!?!) one of my philosophy professors told the class that one of his colleagues in the philosophy department used to be (horrors) a psychology professor. “But then he decided he needed to get serious,” said our not-very-modest philosophy prof. “He decided he really needed to explore the deeper questions behind what today we call ‘psychology.’” His disrespect for the field of psychology was palpable. He almost used air-quotes when he said the word. And…I remember enjoying this, to be honest. (I was a fairly obnoxious little kid at the time, I confess.)

And now, all these years later, I find myself following the same path as my old professor’s colleague. I’m taking a graduate course in medieval history, and I’m finding myself exploring some of the deeper questions behind what I do for a living. And here’s something I’ve recently been thinking about: most of the time, when we’re working on improving our relationships, we fail to think about formal causality.

Huh?

Formal causality (as you can see in the link above) is a term from the philosophical tradition begun by Aristotle and continued in the Middle Ages by Thomas Aquinas, and others. Simply put, it means this: some of the strongest influences on us, and on our relationships, are formative influences. For example, a parent leads by example, provides a consistent routine for her child, engages positively with her child every day, and in many and various ways demonstrates to the child what it means to be human, and that the child is deeply loved. And she does all of these things because, on a deep level—a level that is often beyond her immediate conscious awareness—she wants to do this. She wants to form her child in this way. Forming her child in this way may even be a fundamental dimension of her own identity. And so, day by day, year by year, her child is formed into an adult…into an adult of a certain quality. If Mom is conscious of this deeper level, you’ll see it expressed in her journal, or in the baby books that asked her to write down her deepest wishes for her child.

And here’s how it works in romantic/partnered/marriage relationships. If I want to have a happy long-term relationship with someone, it helps to do little things, little everyday things, that when added together form a relationship. Turn toward your partner. Apologize. Learn a new way to clear the air. Practice non-defensive listening. These are all good things, and they’re good examples of the kind of things I offer when I client says, “I need tools for my relationship!” But formal causality takes us to a deeper level, the level that gives rise to all of these tools, all of these little behaviors.

If I want—on a deep level—to have a happy long-term relationship, that means I’ll be taking the long view…or it means that I see relationships not as something I passively receive, but as something I actively participate in, a long-term developmental process…a long-term process of formation. In other words, I know in my gut that there will be times when I won’t feel love for my partner, times when I will make big mistakes in the relationship, times when one or both of us will be unskillful…and that not only should I not simply try to anxiously avoid these times, but I should embrace them as opportunities for developing the relationship, and improving myself. If my deepest intentions, assumptions, and beliefs are oriented toward a happy, long-term relationship, then they will—over the course of time—form that same relationship.

And so, finally (this is overly long, I know!), here’s what all this means for our counseling together. Often enough we’ll work on tools, techniques, and methods that help a relationship repair itself and improve. But I’ll also be asking formal-causality questions such as, what do you believe ‘marriage‘ is? And, given what you think ‘marriage’ is, have you ever really been married?? Or, what have you always hoped for when you dreamt about being with someone? Or, what do you think two people in a normal relationship are going to have to deal with as they live together? And a follow-up to that one: What’s normal??

Our exploration of these deeper questions will likely reveal a lot of information for you, and light a pathway toward change in your life, and in your relationship.

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Well, I just have to admit it—I fell flat on my face the other night. Literally. I was walking the dogs at the end of the evening, and something went wrong (for the third time!) with our younger dog Hoku’s leash, and in a flash of confusion and commotion, he was gone. There I was, walking Stella on my left, holding a dog-less leash on my right. I broke into a run. “Hoku! Hoku!!” I yelled into the night. But he was gone.

And then I tripped on a buckled sidewalk and went down, head first. Broken glasses, scraped nose, scraped knee, cut leg. And poor Stella suffered a little scrape under her lower lip.

Face plant.

Frantic, in a blind panic, I kept searching for Hoku, walking breathless through north Ballard for what turned into two or more hours, calling his name in vain. Finally, in tears, I gave up and headed back to the house. And there he was, standing up, healthy and whole, in our front yard. I rushed toward him and pulled us all inside to safety. My sense of relief is hard to put into words.

After a few days of reflection, it’s hard to know what to say about this experience. On the surface, it was just a bad night. It doesn’t offer a lot of wisdom or insight about me or my life. It certainly reinforces my faith in the natural wisdom of canine companions and their uncanny ability to know what’s most important, how best to behave in a crisis. Of the three of us—me, Stella, and Hoku—I was definitely the least functional, the least adaptive to the unique and terrible challenge of that night.

But I’ll offer this reflection: it was a reminder to me of my frailty. I am not always powerful. I do not always know what to do, or how to do it. I am vulnerable to terrible loss, and also the particularly human dysfunction that can follow a (perceived) loss. I still shudder to think how I would feel if Hoku had never reappeared that night. How would I have dealt with the grief, and the guilt? I still don’t know.

I work day by day with human beings who struggle and strive to be the best they can be in their lives. They work hard to confront their inner demons, wrestle valiantly with their emotions, and build lasting, healthy relationships. And I do the same myself. But there are days—and nights—when I am reminded that as strong as I am, and no matter how many skills I have, I can find myself in a terrible situation in which I am, to put it mildly, helpless.

After we were all safe and sound, I brought Hoku up onto the bed and put my arm around him. He didn’t know why—he was fine, after all! But I needed the comfort of his living presence after a harrowing night. For a little while, he was stronger than me. He was more secure. And that’s okay. Dogs don’t share the existential anxiety and emotional complexity of humans, bless them. We all lived to see another day, and my little wounds are healing. I am glad that night is over, and I can also honestly say that I appreciate the hard lesson it taught me (once again): there is a limit to my strength, a border around my power. I am vulnerable.

And that is just one part of the wonder of my abundant life.

Hoku ala Papageno, our good little dog who found his way home.

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Sometimes I think people come to counseling in one of two ways: either to ask “What should I do??” questions, or “What’s it all mean?” questions. In the normal course of a session, we’ll handle both kinds of questions. But I want to let you know that I prefer the “What’s it all mean?” questions. I sometimes call them “campfire questions,” because they’re the kind of questions you’d ask yourself when hanging out around a campfire late at night. It’s dark, the fire is bright and hot and crackling, and people start reflecting. They start to muse about their lives.

I prefer these questions because they make you more active, more in control of your whole process, whether it’s a process of recovery, discovery, growth, or all of the above. “What should I do about my partner?” is a fair question. But a better one is, “What does it mean that my partner’s behavior gets the best of me?”

“How should I handle my partner’s drinking problem?” is a fair question. But a better one is, “What relationship do I have with alcohol, and what will I do for myself—on behalf of myself—when my partner is drinking…and why is it that I will do these things for myself? Why do I want what I want?”

I’m happy to troubleshoot some of your “what should I do?” questions, particularly if you’re in a critical situation. But if possible I’d like to steer you toward the campfire. Come sit by me. Let’s look at the fire, take in a few moments of silence, and start asking ourselves the deeper questions. What does it mean? Why do I do that? Where do I want to go from here?

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

As I’ve said in previous posts, I like New Year’s resolutions. They’re a chance to take stock of your life, assess where you’ve been, and plan where you’d like to go. And this got me thinking about resolutions—you know, the kind you’ll see in civic affairs, such as this resolution (which I chose at random) by Seattle’s mayor in 2006. Notice the language: “whereas… whereas… whereas…” I wonder if our New Year’s resolutions would last longer—would be more relevant—if we loaded them up with a few “whereas” statements.

Here’s what I mean. Maybe you’ve resolved to lose weight, or get your finances in order, or be more honest and courageous in your relationship (I really like that third one!). If so, why is that, exactly? Do you really want to get your finances in order? Do you really want to be in better shape? Maybe so, but if you think carefully about it—if you come up with a couple of “whereas” statements—you’ll probably enjoy more success with your resolution. Here’s an example:

“Whereas, I feel better and sleep better when my checkbook is balanced and I’m living within my means;

Whereas, I want to enjoy a comfortable retirement with plenty of savings to finance my way of life;

Whereas, I want to dedicate certain funds to worthy causes; and

Whereas, I want to be an equal contributor with my partner in the ongoing financial support of our household;

Be it resolved, that I will end each month in the black and set aside $xx per month for savings this year.”

I know, it sounds stilted…maybe even a little silly. But if you’re going to the trouble of making New Year’s resolutions, it really helps to think very carefully about your priorities, your values, and your goals. So give it a try: write out a few “whereas” statements to give your resolutions the attention they (and you) deserve!

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Happy December 24! (I’m not assuming you celebrate Christmas.) I fear I may be disappointing you all by doing a “greatest hits” post—I never like it when sitcoms do it!—but my office is closed today and I can’t do another extended original post just now. (I’m back next week.) Also, not to toot my own horn, but I have some pretty good posts from previous holiday seasons. So…here goes—

Here’s my primer on New Year’s resolutions. Bottom line: I like them, and they should be about what you want, not what you should be doing.

Here are my reflections on a familiar Christmas story that reminds us to stop future-tripping (and past-tripping) and live squarely in the here and now.

Feeling down? Here’s a quick take on the complicated emotions most people have during the holidays.

Be well, be safe, and be filled with community and peace during this season!

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Many of my clients assume that I’m always doing just fine. I suspect that a small number of clients need me to always be just fine. I’m a therapist, right? So I should have all the self-soothing skills, communication skills, insights, and creative solutions I need to live a fully happy, stress-free life. I also suspect that many therapists encourage this belief. Letting people know you experience ups and downs might be bad for business!

But I think it’s worse for business to lie to clients (and prospective clients) in this way. And I don’t want to go off on a tangent, but it reminds me of what a lot of Hollywood interviews sound like. Barbara Walters asks the superstar about her life, and we hear that all of the bad times are in the past, today is great, and the future is bright. Hooey.

So here goes: I’ve had a rough two months. I’ve been feeling a little down, a little strung out. The main reason is that I had to leave my spiritual community and join a new one, in a new leadership role. There’s been excitement and fun in this transition, but I didn’t anticipate how much grief I would feel as I did this. I didn’t just leave my spiritual community, which was itself a loss…I also left an old role I played in that community, the role of layperson. I’m now in a much more public, circumscribed, and complicated role. I’m not used to it. I haven’t settled down yet.

And whether it’s all of that, or something else, I’ve had a hard time with the Seattle weather this year. I missed the Thanksgiving snow, which is good in only one way: I didn’t have to drive in it. (I was with family in Arizona.) But I’m a little kid about snow—a little Minnesotan kid—and I love to take our dogs out in the winter wonderland. I love to be socked in. But I missed it, and now that the holidays are fully here, it’s just rainy, dark, and windy. So…I feel a little down.

And yes, Barbara Walters, I’ll be just fine. I’m looking forward to 2011, for lots of reasons. I love Christmas and New Year’s. There’s always an upside. But I also know that there are times in every human life when you walk around the world feeling melancholy. I don’t want anything to take that feeling away from me—no pills, no sparkling therapy insights!!—because it’s a natural response to a time of transition.

And I also want to bring this experience with me when I meet with clients. I won’t mention it, most likely, and I’ll continually be focused on them. It’s their session, not mine! But I think it helps to have a therapist who’s acquainted with these feelings. Together, we’ll keep moving into the increasing light and warmth of spring.

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Since this is Thanksgiving week, it’s time to repost my thoughts last year about the holidays. Take some time to listen to yourself and decide what you really, really want for the coming weeks of this waning year. You only live once!

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Long ago, when I was in graduate school, one of my professors gave us students some sage advice: “Never,” he said, “never, ever give your clients advice. They won’t follow it, and what’s more, they don’t really want it.”

On the surface, this sounds ludicrous. Who doesn’t go to a therapist for advice?! And what therapist worth her salt will simply listen to a client and offer no suggestions for what to do differently? I admit that I’ve often disregarded my professor’s advice. (And yes, I see the irony that he’s advising us not to advise!) I’ve told clients what I think—even what I prefer and how I feel—about their dilemmas.

But my professor is generally right. If you’re asking me, say, whether you should stay with your partner, or how you should interact with your aging parent, or how you should handle your teenage son’s maddening behaviors, I won’t be earning my fee if I stay on the surface level of advice. That’s why, even though I have an advice column on my site, I don’t pretend that it’s a substitute for therapy. It may be a good start, but it’s rarely all that a person needs.

Instead of advice, I’ll try this instead: if you ask me whether you should stay with your partner, I’ll invite you to explore what you want—really, really want, in the depths of your heart—for yourself, for your life, for your future. If you’re in touch with that, then the answer you seek about your partner will begin to appear to you. If you ask me how you should interact with your aging parent, I’ll ask you what your deepest beliefs and values are as an adult child of a vulnerable adult. If you are struggling with your teenage son, I’ll explore with you what you believe parenthood is, what it means for you that you’re a parent. From these deeper questions and issues will come a few practical ideas and solutions.

Should you stay with your partner? Well, I’m not sure. What does your own heart have to say about it?

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Don’t miss my latest post on my couples blog, a reflection on how, in any situation in which you’re working on personal problems, you are probably dealing with underlying assumptions, time-honored beliefs, and unrealized dreams.

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!

Okay. Let’s talk about friendships.

Sometimes I think friendships are the Little Relationships That Could. They’re the relationships in your life that—if you’re like a lot of people—are the easiest to take for granted. It’s like they don’t get no respect. If you’re in any of the stages of a romantic/partnered relationship, whether you’re just getting started, enjoying the early bonding stages, adjusting to changes, managing crises, or breaking up, everyone assumes that you need lots of space and time to work on this most important relationship in your life. If you’re a parent, an adult child of an aging parent, a co-worker, or a sibling, you can count on most people giving you plenty of room to tend to those relationships. But try getting bereavement leave to attend a friend’s funeral, or family medical leave to help care for a friend who’s ill—ain’t gonna happen. And it’s all too common to move through your life and find out too late that a friendship that was important to you has fallen by the wayside.

Right now, in my own life, I’ve been focusing on my friendships quite a bit. I think one big reason for this is that I don’t have co-workers, at least in my job as a business owner and therapist. (I do consulting and training work, and in that arena I have both a BFF-colleague and a mentor-colleague, and I have a great time!) But most days, it’s just me and my clients. I love working with my clients! But between sessions, I can’t roam the office and shoot the breeze with the receptionist—something I loved to do at Group Health—because, well, I don’t have a receptionist. So I’ve noticed that my friendships have become much more important.

But I wish it didn’t take special circumstances like this for me to focus more closely on my friendships. I’d like to cultivate a lifestyle in which friendships are always a major dimension of my personal life. I have cultivated this lifestyle, to some extent. But I could do it with more intention and consistency.

If you’d like to do this, it might help to stop and think about your vision for friendship. What kind of friend do you want to be? What kind of friends do you want to have? I did this a few weeks ago, and here’s what I came up with:

1. If you’re a close friend of mine, I want us to make our friendship a high priority on a somewhat regular basis. I want a healthy number of phone calls, texts, lunches, and other connections. If it’s not every day, that’s fine, but it should be frequent enough that we feel pretty close to each other, and know that we’re both important to each other.

2. If we have conflict, I want us to take it seriously and work the problem. It might be overkill for us to see a therapist, but hey, why not? At the very least, we will be sure we get together to work through our problems.

3. If we drift apart, I want both of us to notice this and talk about it. Maybe you just had a baby, or maybe I’m in crisis with my family of origin, or maybe the everyday circumstances of life have eclipsed our relationship. Whatever it might be, I want us to wrestle with it, to place our relationship on the short list of high priorities in our lives. There are times when our friendship needs to take a back seat, and that’s okay. But at some point I want us to notice this, connect, and discuss what comes next for us.

4. I want us to have a lot of fun together! I want our friendship to be a wonderful gift in our lives, a reason for being alive.

That’s pretty much it! Some of my friends—many of my friends—don’t meet me on my terms as stated above. And that’s okay. But it’s important for me to have a few people in my life who share this vision. Friends matter to me.

If you’re thinking about counseling, chances are it’s because you’re struggling in a partnered relationship, or a family relationship. But don’t forget your friends: your relationships with them—for good and ill—are probably making a bigger impact on your life than you might think.

Like This Article? Please Bookmark It!