Everything a therapist can teach you, distilled.
The value of years of therapy can be condensed into 3 rules:
* Stop freaking out.
* Stop doing all that unhealthy shit.
* Be nice to yourself and others.
Look, I realize this is not literally everything you can learn from a therapist. It’s reductive. It’s worse than that, it’s clickbait. But it’s not that far off. We’ll dive deeper into these rules in a moment, but let’s first take a step back and look at therapy and its role in the modern world. TLDR? Skip to the section at the bottom entitled, “Therapy in 3 Steps”.
Therapy?
People turn to therapists and professional counselors when things are already sideways: when marriages are falling apart and relationships are dysfunctional, when kids get into trouble at school or home, when substance abuse is rampant, or in the wake of traumatic life experiences. In the midst of life’s trials, a gifted therapist can be a huge help. But what is the nature of this help, and what exactly are they offering us? For the purposes of this essay, when I use the word “therapy” I am speaking very broadly, choosing to paint with rough strokes instead of focusing on specific therapeutic modalities. And I realize I'm characterizing a whole industry based largely on anecdotal data. Therapists, of course, can have great value. Be that as it may, there are some often-overlooked critical evaluations worthy of consideration. These criticisms of “therapy” are ultimately criticisms of underlying tendencies present in modern human societies—inclinations that highlight some of our less noble instincts. Tendencies towards organizational inertia, litigiousness, and creative rigor mortis evidenced by a kind of personal “heat death” of the will, in which our ability to self-direct is overtaken by the entropic forces of self-protection, avoidance of difficulty, the externalization of trust, hyperspecialization, over-reliance on experts, and appeals to external authority. In short, the tendencies that make us into followers looking externally for direction, validation, and the illusion of security.
I have personally sought therapy for many of the aforementioned reasons at different times in my life beginning when I was a teenager with a challenging home life. My first experience with therapy came by way of a court order. I was remanded to professional counseling for 12 weeks and put on probation, after getting into trouble for hosting an embarrassingly under-attended house party at which a few of my friends consumed small quantities of Rolling Rock beer (that watery piss "from the glass-lined tanks of Old Latrobe!") while my parents were out of town for a week during the first semester of my senior year in high school. Certainly, that was a bad first experience with therapy, but I’m happy to say that I have since willingly sought out the help of professional therapists many times. I have been in couples counseling, as well as individual therapy seeking help with loneliness, depression, professional dissatisfaction, workplace stress, insomnia, substance abuse, anxiety, PTSD, as well as relationship and parenting issues, to name the major themes. My experience with therapists has been quite mixed. Ultimately, what makes a good therapist is courage and wisdom, neither of which are things that can be reliably instilled into a would-be therapist in an academic or instructional setting. Some of my experiences with therapy were modestly helpful, while others were a complete waste of time and money. When therapy is at its best, a capable therapist assists a client in gaining perspective and insight that leads to improvements in the quality of their life, either by supporting behavioral and lifestyle modifications or by encouraging changes to mindset, emotional response, or increasing self-awareness.
When therapy works
Therapy works best when it is oriented towards accomplishing clear goals, such as resolving conflicts, healing traumatic or neurotic responses, or navigating difficult lifestyle changes (such as ending a relationship, changing careers, or getting a handle on addictive behaviors.) A therapist may also act as an impartial third-party providing a degree of accountability to clients working through difficulties—although this role is sometimes better suited to more niche professionals such as health or business coaches, trainers, or other specialized consultants. Did someone say life coaches? Don’t worry, I plan to take a good long look at the value of these unregulated professionals in a follow-up article sometime soon. So don’t worry life coaches, I’ll be distilling your value into about fifty words also. That said, in general, the more specific the assistance one seeks, the more effective and economical are the results.
A skilled therapist understands that the therapeutic relationship is of the utmost importance to the process. The therapist ideally cultivates a relationship of trust, compassion, respect, and understanding with their clients. To cultivate an optimally productive therapeutic relationship, the therapist must sublimate their own goals (for example, the goal of making money from the client relationship) with those of their clients’ to avoid inherent conflicts of interest. A quality therapist endeavors to help clients understand and achieve therapeutic goals with an eye toward empowering them, ultimately, to handle their lives without the need for ongoing assistance from the therapist. The effective therapist works to see clients come to a place of no longer needing therapy as quickly as possible, by providing clients with tools and perspectives to help them process and handle the aftereffects of trauma and emotional difficulties.
Where therapy fails
There is no question that therapy is often successful and useful in some measure, but it is not without its problems. Unfortunately, a lot of these problems with therapy escape scrutiny and discussion. This happens for many reasons, not the least of which is that it can seem counterproductive to assail a generally accepted public good by engaging with in critical discourse—but this is exactly what I hope to do herein, not because I am a recalcitrant devil’s advocate (although this is sometimes the case), but rather, in the interest of cultivating a more nuanced conversation about the value of therapy and what it can offer, and perhaps in the process save you some time and money. With that in mind, let’s look at some of the ways the therapeutic process is incompetent.
Therapy as a passive process
Many of the limitations of therapy lie not with the industry itself nor with the therapist, but instead with the client. This is especially true when therapy is forced upon someone, as with a court order, for example, or at the insistence of a disgruntled partner. When someone engages a therapist only begrudgingly, the therapeutic process will often, though not always, arrive stillborn and fail to progress. People placed into therapy even partially against their will, often sabotage the process. I am guilty of doing this myself. There was a time in my life when I went to therapy more or less to placate my partner, to show that I was “doing the work” when in fact I was merely going through the motions. In this way, therapy actually prolonged the eventual dissolution of a dysfunctional relationship rather than providing tools and support to help us effectively handle a challenging life transition. If you go to therapy as a passive participant like I did, you will get limited results. In this sense, therapy is only potentially as effective as the participants are actively motivated or engaged with the process. Who is doing “the work” as it were, the client or the therapist?
Therapy as a forum for ongoing complaint
Can one conclude that therapy is effective if it is engaged in as an ongoing, potentially life-long pastime? Would we be satisfied with the performance of our auto mechanic if she required us to bring in our car once, twice, or even four times per month? It could be reasonably argued that this use of continual visits to the therapist is merely part and parcel to leading a self-actualized life. But, looked at another way, is it also possible that dependence on the analyst is yet another emblem of bourgeois success? Yet another means of pampering oneself with the luxury of a captive ear upon which to unload the protestations of the present moment? Or, suppose you are an amateur athlete (or, in other words, someone who has learned to appreciate and utilize their own body to its fullest potential): would you rather be dependent on weekly visits to a sports massage practitioner or learn the techniques of moving through myofascial release and muscle recovery on your own, with the help of inexpensive tools like foam rollers and lacrosse balls? This is not simply an economic issue (or merely an issue of class privilege). In this paradigm of therapy as a standing forum for voicing complaint, is the therapist complicit as an enabler of the clients’ ongoing lack of independence and accountability by reinforcing their dependence on the therapeutic relationship? Does the therapeutic relationship itself become a release valve for stressors in a client’s life caused by the client’s own suboptimal choices, thereby enabling ongoing contravital decisions or rote conformity? Put differently, under what circumstances might ongoing therapy itself exacerbate the problems in a client’s life? Therapy, like neuropharmacological interventions such as antidepressants, can serve to lessen the impact of an individual’s suboptimal lifestyle, career, or relationship choices, allowing them to persist in situations or courses of action that might otherwise become intolerable. This ability of therapy to make the intolerable tolerable is potentially dangerous in that it can inhibit decisive action.
Therapy is expensive
Therapy requires a commitment of both time and money. Therapy is generally not cheap, with most practitioners charging north of one hundred dollars an hour (or more than 13 times the federal minimum hourly wage). On top of that, many therapists refuse to work with their client’s health insurance providers.
Therapy costs you time
By occurring only at scheduled intervals, we engage with therapy in a manner that is “out of flow” with our emotional lives. We often drop pressing duties at home or work for a scheduled meeting with a therapist, further pulling us away from the therapeutic process. On the other hand, during fraught and emotionally charged moments when we most need someone to talk, we are forced to wait until our scheduled time slot. In this way, therapy not only costs us time but is typically not available when we need it the most.
Therapists often lack experience, sophistication, and knowledge
Even though therapy is a tightly regulated industry (with the notable exception of “alternative” and pseudoscientific therapies), we find that the credentialing process fails to reliably create competent therapists. Though therapists must complete some form of schooling and often must pass an examination or certification process by a governmental or professional body, the quality and ability of the therapeutic product varies wildly from one practitioner to the next. Selecting a therapist that works well for your specific needs is time-consuming, expensive, and not at all guaranteed to yield satisfactory results. Most of us do not have the time, money, patience, or knowledge sufficient to tackle this screening process, so we take what we can get, perhaps visiting one or two, possibly three, therapists before settling on one. In every profession, you have the exceptional and the average practitioner of the trade. Most often, the therapist you encounter will fall somewhere in the middle of this bell curve, meaning at their best, their performance will be mediocre. It will be moderated by their baseline intelligence, eagerness, and ability. Ask yourself: does your therapist lead an exceptional life? Do they themselves understand the sacrifices required for self-actualization and self-mastery such that they are sufficiently knowledgeable to offer advice on the intractable difficulties of being human? Does your therapist exude exemplary emotional intelligence? How can you tell? Ultimately, it is we ourselves that must determine if a therapist is competent, but at the same time, it is "we ourselves" that are in need of their counsel. So are we to conclude, that it is the patient, the untrained nonexpert, that must examine the capacities of the therapist?
And for a moment let's recall the professional life of the therapist! Therapists spend much of their time sitting comfortably enclosed within the walls of tiny offices, attending to client after client—for potentially the better part of a career that might span decades. What life experience is to be found within the shallow cube that is the professional habitat of the career therapist? What are four walls and a coterie of comfortable chairs to the grandeur of this wild planet?
Therapists often lack courage
What therapists lack in life experience and perspective, they routinely lack in courage as well. Therapists often fail to give the advice you need to hear most. When I was in couples counseling towards the end of my marriage, our therapist would only view “saving the marriage” as a worthy therapeutic goal, long after it could have been obvious that the best thing for our family, and for us as individuals was to evolve the marriage relationship into something new. Therapists, either by training, tradition, or temperament, often fail to encourage choices that are too “outside the box”, or too authoritative. Putting the well-being of a couple’s relationship ahead of the well-being of the individuals that make up the relationship is a very common example of this problem. Therapists, like all humans in professional roles, are, on some level, afraid of being rejected or censured; for example, in the form of a negative online review; they are rightfully afraid of being sued; or perhaps they are afraid of making a firm judgement that a client might take issue with. These are obviously qualities that run largely counter to the interests of therapeutic clientele. The most effective therapist would be free to speak her mind without such fears clouding her vision. One cannot seek wise counsel from someone who is afraid to be wrong.
Therapists are prone to burnout
This need for motivated participants in the therapeutic context extends not just to the client, but also to the therapist. Have you ever wondered if your therapist was even listening to you? I once dated a therapist who would complain to me about how unfulfilling and difficult her client relationships were (and how onerous her accrued student loans were). I had some sympathy for her, as many of her complaints seemed reasonable to me at the time, but I imagine that her own professional dissatisfaction adversely affected the value of the product that she was able to deliver to clients. Part of the problem is the regulatory environment itself, though the consumer protections it seeks to create may also be perfectly reasonable. The costs of a career in social work are high: having to work within the bounds of the regulatory framework; the cost of the certification process; the cost of liability insurance; the cost of a repetitive life, consisting of sitting in a small room with client after client; the cost of dealing with the bureaucracy of health insurers; the emotional cost of being present and engaged with clients who are often themselves hellbent on being their own worst enemies; the cost of dealing with the rules and administrative minutiae of hospitals, treatment centers, or clinics; the costs of scheduling, marketing, payment processing, and accounting—the list goes on. Many of these criticisms might well be aimed at other professions as well. These are topics I plan to explore further in future articles because it is worth us reconsidering some of the underlying assumptions that got us to where we are. Who pays these costs? We all do. We pay them in terms of substandard results for people who need therapeutic counsel in our communities. The therapist pays these costs in terms of burnout and professional malaise. The client pays for them in terms of uninspired care. Add to this, that money alone is a poor incentive to give a shit, day-in, day-out. This is true in many professions, but especially true, in emotionally demanding, yet physically sedentary jobs like professional therapy. Ask anyone who has worked for long as a professional therapist if money alone is sufficient to overcome the pressures of their profession. Most therapists probably do not get paid enough to hit this threshold, and the ones that do, we probably cannot afford. Who is rewarded by this set up? No one. We see a regulatory framework that itself is the result of a legal system that seeks so-called “justice” through a formalized adversarial process of penalization and reward, and we see a hive-culture that breeds overspecialization and depersonalization resulting in a substandard product that is itself the derivative of a commitment to substandard lifestyles, and all of this happening in a manner that is largely unconscious to all participants, regardless of role. No one is ultimately rewarded by such a system, but, as usual, those who are rewarded most are the wealthiest amongst us—those who can pay exorbitant rates for the best and brightest—a reality we see in every industry. Though it is tempting to reflexively blame the oft-hated yet poorly conceived specter of “late-stage” capitalism for such failures, one must not disavow all personal responsibility. At all stages and at every social strata, we are complicit. This complicity is at its core an unconscious complicity to the process of life itself. Specifically, "life for quantity and duration" at the expense of life for quality, nobility, purpose, or some other metric of intrinsic value—concepts I will explore further in subsequent dialogues.
Therapy as reactionary and normative
An almost categorical limitation of therapy (shared by many medical practices) is that it typically works only in reaction to symptoms; it is not engaged in "preventatively", as it were. Indeed, preventative therapy is perhaps more often thought of as “self-help” or self-development. This isn’t so much a failure of therapy, but a limitation in its typical application; therapy is generally only sought once problems arise or in the presence of undesirable “symptoms”. In the seminal work, The Myth of Mental Illness, psychiatrist Thomas Szasz argued in the early 1960s that the idea of classifying psychological and emotional difficulties as “illnesses” comes at a high cost to personal agency and accountability, setting the stage for a world in which experts attempt to “treat” aspects of our personalities, often through the use of psychoactive drugs with poorly understood results. Proponents of diagnosing our emotional and psychological symptoms as “illnesses” argue that mental disorders are physical diseases, and that the diagnostic process is supportive in getting patients effective treatment. Upon inspection, we see that this question is far from settled and that the answer is likely that both ways of viewing mental health have merit and are worthy of our consideration. The prevalent view of mental health exerts a normative influence that can serve to suppress individuality in favor of normalization of behavior.
Therapists frequently fail as educators
Therapists aren’t typically engaged in proactively educating clients on the mechanics of their underlying psychology, illuminating logical fallacies, clearly defining concepts like “emotional intelligence”, or teaching the cognitive biases and distortions (although I love this idea.) Parenthetically, how is it possible that most of us reach adulthood without a firm, working knowledge of the many ways in which our senses and critical faculties fail us predictably and routinely? We appear to be scarcely cognizant of the many ways that by evolutionary design our perceptions serve toreduce the complexity of the realities that we face, to ensure our brute survival, to simplify a bewilderment of variables in order that we may escape total paralysis. Can you easily recite well-known and documented cognitive biases that affect your thinking every day? I cannot. This is a problem, and it’s a problem that could be easily solved by our institutions of lower learning. Imagine how things might be different if children were thoroughly taught the ways in which their mental and emotional faculties are deceptive by design. What if we learned these things in the same way we learned our multiplication tables? What if any 6th grader could call out the “sunk cost fallacy”, for example, when they saw a parent sticking with a career, relationship, or belief system to ongoing deleterious effect? How much more difficult would it be for people to be manipulated by peers, politicians, advertisers, and unscrupulous businesses?
These are among the true gifts to the world of the social sciences, and empowering clients with this knowledge could be a primary focus for the therapist seeking to emancipate their clientele. Does your therapist have a firm command of the cognitive distortions, logical fallacies, and so forth? I would wager a guess that this education is not readily at hand for many therapists and that they are not spending sessions on client education in these areas.
Therapy as not being goal-oriented
All too often therapy is done without sufficiently articulated goals, milestones, dependent tasks, deadlines, and so forth. I am not suggesting that all therapeutic relationships should be handled with the tools of project management or agile development, but let’s imagine if this were more so the case! Imagine if therapists were also highly trained in helping clients to set measurable, clearly defined S.M.A.R.T. goals that were broken down into tasks, with articulated dependencies, and measurable outcomes. What if therapists regularly employed tools like time-boxing, sprints, re-prioritization, or even self-versioning? I have a friend, Ryan Foo, in Denver, Colorado who periodically releases new "versions" of himself as a reminder to acknowledge the ongoing transformation that is life, by accepting input from his community. (Ryan is currently Ryan Foo, version 5.1.) Ryan’s example is fun and kind of silly, but what if we could employ this type of thinking in a therapeutic context? Could we depersonalize our failings and better address them if we saw them as bug reports from our community of “users”? Instead of castigating ourselves and others we could simply create an “issue” in our personal bug-tracking system, and begin a process to analyze it, determine a new or more optimal functionality, and release an update. These new versions of ourselves could then be celebrated and adopted by our community, even through “release parties”. In such a paradigm, our weaknesses are then no longer things to hide, but markers of our ongoing evolution and progress to be celebrated publicly. And let’s not get lost in the fact I’m intentionally using the language of software development and project management here. These concepts could be easily applied without technical jargon in a therapeutic context. The point is, to make the results and purpose of the therapeutic relationship constantly transparent and understood, subject to continuous reevaluation by both the client and therapist.
Problems inherent in the therapeutic relationship
The very arrangement of two persons into a therapeutic relationship in which one is the expert and the other is the layperson creates a power dynamic that is problematic and prone to inauthenticity. Psychologists have documented such problematic power dynamics in a significant body of research (think of the The Milgram experiment or The Lucifer Effect). The person playing the role of therapist is under pressure in the dynamic to suppress their own emotions, to uphold a professional demeanor, they cast themselves in an elevated role, as “sane”, “normal”, or worse “impartial” to their clients “troubled”, “in need”, or “disordered” presentation. Of course, none of these positions, as suggested by the dynamic inherent in the roles of therapist and client are categorically true. Indeed, we might question their value at all. Each such normative supposition of the role of the therapist is suspect, and most will not stand up to rigorous inquiry. On the other hand, the client may cast themselves as damaged, agitated, in need of assistance, resolution, or healing. The role of therapeutic client itself can be a stance of disempowerment. It is interesting to reflect on this: when there truly is a need for therapy, the client is in need of support. Conversely, if the client is not truly in need of therapy, but is attending anyway, what conclusions might we draw about such attendance? What is being served for the client in this case? It is possible the client is using the therapeutic relationship in a kind of attention-seeking, or egotistical manner. It is also possible the client is lonely and is seeking a confidant or merely social interaction. There are many such possibilities that extend beyond the obvious and openly given reasons for seeking a therapeutic relationship.
Credentialing as a poor indicator of therapeutic capacity
I’ve tiptoed around it, but let’s dig into one of the significant problems of our time: an overemphasis on credentialing. We live in an age that is defined by a crisis of accountability. In a rush to nullify the human individual, and with him or her their discrete human relationships, we favor infinitely replaceable functionaires—the hot-swappable automata of a gluttonous epoch—and we have created scaffoldings in every profession for the externalization of trust,the primary function of most systems of credentialing. Reliability and confidence in individuals has been systematically replaced by the mere assumption of reliability and suggestion of confidence that is present in credentialing in every strata of culture. This is not merely a debate between the merits of credentialing versus experience—though that is also an interesting conversation—no, one need not evoke that dichotomy to understand the problems inherent in any system that seeks to externalize trust in human relationships. In such a system, humans are reduced to roles, and such a reduction leaves out a lifetime’s worth of variables that may or may not be of interest to a person seeking the guidance of a professional therapist, counselor, or other professional for that matter. In a world where individuals have no choice but to rely on the veracity of such suggestions of trust, reliability then is assumed by default in the presence of a credential from a duly “accredited” body. To be skeptical of this process, in such a milieu, is both actively and passively discouraged, as such skepticism is erosive to the very foundation of this project of life in the human hive, where reliance on the simplicity of “roles” is the material force that makes us irrelevant as individuals. Suffice it, for now, to say that credentialing, it seems, is a poor indicator of therapeutic capacity, though we are expected to accept it without much thought.
Therapy and hyperspecialization
I would be remiss to assault credentialing writ large without making a similarly bombastic strike on its alter ego, specialization. While Marx’s theories do indeed look tired and reductive from today’s vantage, he was not wrong on a great many things, not the least of which were some of his critiques of specialization and the division of labor. Over- or hyper-specialization leads to decreased productivity, dissatisfaction, alienation, unnecessary hierarchies, and social control. I am no Marxist, but neither am I an apologist for capital. We live in a world of hyperspecialization, about this there is no question. This is perhaps best, and first, evidenced by the question posed to us as children: “what do you want to be when you grow up?” We are each asked to live narrow economic lives, fulfilling the functions of the available social “roles” for which we are cast (by means of functional stations within our culture, primarily, our jobs). We can save for another time a discourse of the specific mechanics of how we are thrust into these “roles” by socioeconomics, genetics, place of birth, and other aspects of identities. Suffice it to say for the purposes of this essay, that where we wind up is influenced by many factors, largely outside of our control. The client seeking therapy and the therapist alike feel the same pressures to conform to this reduction of their humanity by the very shape of the economic engagement they participate within. The therapist most often self-selects their role as therapist, pursuing the credential and conforming to the requirements of the prevailing professional order. The client is likely also reacting to, and being contorted by, the demands of their own given or chosen profession and the shape of their social role. We are often paralyzed by the decision of “what to be when we grow up” because we are given mainly suboptimal choices. We are asked to slot ourselves into the narrow corridors of specialized roles, to subsume our desires in order to produce value for the hive. Seldom are we offered the choice to be well-rounded generalists, with many roles, and flexible schedules. We live in a culture that mocks the generalist as the "Jack of all trades, master of none". In order to assert competitive value, we must adopt this stance of hyperspecialization or become fodder at the bottom rungs of the social ladder. Where are the sanitation workers who are also pilots or part-time bankers? Where are the filmmaker-farmers? Where is the agency to simply breathe or ponder nothing at all? It is not a foregone conclusion that our only and best purpose is to give every waking moment of our productive lives to the collective in service of a role. A man or woman may well have other concerns. You do not owe the entirety of your life to the demands of the collective, though th3e collective will gladly take it from you if you give it the chance. Why are we in therapy? Could it be at least in part because we are born into virtual slavery to a social contract we ourselves had nothing to do with creating, that exists primarily to ensure the endless expansion of the our species through the mechanics of the economy? And what is the economy itself but an externalization of the underlying processes of life in the hive? Taken another way, what is an “economy”, but an abstraction layer over complex processes of life itself? I am thinking again of the distinction I made earlier between "life for quantity and duration" at the expense of "life for quality, nobility, or purpose", or some other valuation.
Bringing it all back home
I’m a big fan of solutions. I think too many intellectuals and journalists give themselves a pass on offering actionable solutions, choosing instead to focus nearly exclusively on the articulation of problems. So here’s a Cult of the New Mainstream brand promise for you: I will always offer a solution when I raise problems in my work—if doing so is within my power. So here’s a possible solution: understand clearly and measurably what you hope to achieve from therapy, and use it sparingly, and wisely. Or better, instead of seeking “professional” help, learn how to help yourself. Seek mentors. Seek wise women and men in your communities. Talk to the people around you that you admire. Learn how to rely on community and build individual relationships that you don't have to pay for in appointment times and copays, and instead give of yourself and your own unique talents, and give generously. When you give generously of yourself, so too will the community you build. They will be there for you, in your time of need. Their credentials will be the work of their hands, the look in their eyes, and the values in their hearts. Your trust in them will come from direct experience, as you see them leading exceptional and individual lives. Your therapist will be the persons that inspire you and you will come to understand that healing from trauma is not fixing it, but letting it be. Learn to accept the input and support of your mentors, friends, or family by waking up each day and eagerly asking yourself: How am I wrong today? What's possible if I stop trying to look good all the time? And what becomes possible if I acknowledge my fears and stop running away from them? What great things will I discover, and who might I become if I hungrily seek to uncover and expose the many ways that my own worldview is limited, by my shortcomings and inherited circumstances? By simply allowing yourself to be wrong, you will become great, and in your simple greatness you will reshape the world. You will embody acceptance, and through that, you will come into presence and you will manifest time to simply exist and create nothing at all.
Therapy in 3 Steps
Are there other things a good therapist can teach you? Absolutely. But here’s what’s most important:
Insight #1: Stop freaking out.
The number one thing a therapist can do for you is to get you to calm down. So much of our mental and emotional anguish comes down to putting our focus on things we don’t control and imagining the world some other way than the way it is. Learn to recognize the stories you tell yourself that keep you angry and agitated, disgruntled and afraid. You can’t change the topography, but you can change the map and how you choose to navigate it. The magic phrase that turns torment into bliss is simply: let it go.
Insight #2: Stop doing all that unhealthy shit.
The second thing you can learn from an effective therapist is to recognize unhealthy behaviors and replace them with healthy ones. This means stopping the many ways you self-sabotage: staying up too late, isolating when you need connection (and connecting when you actually require solitude), eating foods with low nutritional value, conforming to professional or social expectations that rob you of vitality, capitulating to your compulsions—these are some of the many ways that choosing rewards and pleasure too frequently leads us invariably to pain. Things that are pleasing in the presence of self-discipline become the very sources of suffering in our lives when restraint is absent. The quality of your life is directly proportional to your command of self-discipline. Of course, we can’t always be rigidly disciplined, but we can venture to become the engine for our own adaptations. The same is true for avoidance of hard work, fear, or difficulty. Remember that all lives are rife with problems, so choose your problems wisely.
Insight #3: Be nice to yourself and others.
Finally, a therapist worth her credentialing will help you remember the intrinsic value of being kind to yourself and the people around you. Kindness, possibly more than any other trait, pays dividends. Your life will improve as you learn to return ever more quickly and efficiently to kindness, holding space for the failings of yourself and others with compassion and grace. Letting go of judgement is key to leading an impactful and fulfilling life. Every war is fought by at least two sides and each is convinced of their own righteousness. Letting go of the need to be right has the potential to unite the battlefield, before a single shot is fired.
What if you were already fixed?
What if there was never anything that needed fixing in the first place? What if all the pain and uncertainty were as fundamental (and as pointless to resist) as gravity and light? What is life to sentient fools like us anyhow? Like the mandala, like the mantra, like the orgasm, like the setting of the sun—we are here but a moment. Who would we have to be, and what would our lives have to look like, if we didn’t need therapy? Is it possible that the answers always come from within, and that therapy ends, simply, when we give up looking for them outside ourselves?
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