“How long will therapy take?” a new client asks.
Depending on the symptoms, on the presenting issue, the response varies.
My colleague says, “The more experienced I get, the slower I go.”
Therapy is a long and painful process. Arduous. Gut-wrenching. Therapy takes guts. No matter how short it takes in real time, it will always feel long and painful.
My clients walk into my room. They take off their coats. They put down their pocketbooks. Sometimes they keep their coats on; they keep their pocketbooks clutched tightly in their hands. But they all come to lay down their burdens, even as some of them hold on to those burdens so tightly I can barely manage to pull them away for the 50 minutes they sit on my couch.
They talk about many things. They talk about their hunger for life. They mourn losses and grieve for what never was. A parent’s love. A teacher’s praise. A job. A camp or seminary application tossed aside. A high school they never attended. A friend they never knew. A talent buried deep underground.
The work, like I said, is slow.
I say, “Where do you feel it in your body?”
I say, “Is this sensation of grief/anger/hurt/emptiness familiar?”
I say, “Is there an image or thought or feeling that goes with that sensation?”
We talk about parts. Parts that are shut down, parts that hold memories, parts that want to tantrum, parts that keep secrets.
Slowly, we welcome all the parts into the therapy room.
My clients want so many things. They want a job. A friend. A shidduch. They want to get back on a train, into an elevator, through a crowded supermarket or busy mall — things they can no longer do when anxiety holds them hostage. They want to stop yelling at their children, talk to their husbands, stand up to their teacher or boss. They want to overcome shyness, stop feeling afraid, try new things, develop confidence. They want to forgive. Forget. Fargin.
Week after week, they come into my office. They sit in silence. They stand in fury. They collage and color and play with sand and miniatures. They tell me their dreams. Their nightmares. Their worst fears. Their deepest hopes.
I hold it all. I hold them all.
I confess, it’s not easy. Sometimes, in my own life, I am angry too. Sometimes, I also cry. Sometimes, I feel despair and hopelessness and stuck.
We breathe. We try, in any case. And sometimes, we hold our breaths instead, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Do you remember that bean you stuck in the earth in that plastic cup in kindergarten? I remember mine. The bit of masking tape stuck onto the cup had my name on it and each day, when I ran into the classroom, I first checked in with my cup. The teacher told us that it would grow into a plant. I didn’t really believe her. It was only a bean and, anyway, I didn’t see anything happening. But she was the teacher, and something inside of me, something that hurt in a way that felt nice, let me know that maybe it could happen. That something green could grow from an ordinary brown bean stuck into the dark and dirty earth.
I remember the gasp of astonishment, of pure pleasure, when I observed the little green shoot sticking its way out of the dirt, the amazement when, the very next day, the little shoot had shot up a few inches, spilling green all over my cup.
“I found a job,” says a client.
“I feel safe in here.”
“I trust you.”
“I laughed today.”
“I think he’s the one.”
“I hugged my mother yesterday.”
“I decided I want to be a social worker.”
“For a moment today, I felt it will be okay.”
“I said no. I said yes.”
My client puts down her pocketbook. For the first time in a year, she takes off her coat as she settles into my couch.
The tiniest of movements, the largest of successes.
Each therapeutic victory sweeps through me, a light inside, spreading through my entire body. The delight, the happiness, of my client’s success, of the tiny sliver of light that pierces the darkness that drove them to therapy. The gasp of astonishment to see the green shoots of their efforts pushing their way out of the earth.
Condensed into the confines of our therapy room, shared by only us and no one else, only we understand the intensity of this shared joy.
I thank my clients for this shared experience of deep happiness that their hard work can achieve.
They cannot repay me. They will pay it forward. And spread the joy.
Originally published in Binah Magazine
Using an 8-step protocol which includes a back-and-forth movement (originally only of the eyes; presently, more varied options), EMDR therapy facilitates the accessing and processing of traumatic memories or adverse experiences. It transforms a client's negative beliefs to positive ones, reduces body activation, and allows new behaviors to replace the old.
Somatic IFS is a branch of IFS which uses the 5 practices of: somatic awareness, breath, resonance, movement, and touch. The intention of this practice is to help parts that express themselves through the body reestablish connection to Self, restoring its leadership; healing the injured and traumatized parts, enabling healthy living.
Clinical hypnosis is a technique in which the therapist helps a client go into a deeply focused and relaxed state called a trance, using verbal cues, repetition, and imagery. In this naturally occurring altered state of hypnotic consciousness, therapeutic interventions to address psychological or physical issues are more effective.
IFS views a person as made up of many parts, much like a family, each with its own feelings, thoughts, and even memories. Parts may manifest in troublesome ways, but IFS believes each one is there to protect and help, and the role of therapy is to heal the wounded and hurting parts, uncovering the core Self who will lead these parts with the 8 Cs of: calm, curiosity, clarity, compassion, confidence, courage, creativity, and connectedness.
Sensorimotor Psychotherapy is a body-based, holistic approach to healing that integrates talk therapy, attachment theory, and experiential exercises to address developmental and other trauma that is stored in the body as somatic symptoms. Working with child states and “experiments,” SP therapy accesses material that is often outside of a client’s awareness, facilitating healing and growth.
When the body stores unpleasant sensations as a result of stress, shock, and trauma, SE is a body-based therapy that helps clients to gain awareness of how these cause stuck patterns of flight and fight responses. SE therapy is a gentle method that guides clients to increase their window of tolerance, releasing suppressed trauma and emotions, freeing them of their physical emotional pain.