Written By Elaine Chan-Scherer, LCSW
Couples therapists know that people don’t choose each other for the reasons that they think. Think about it – how many people are not attracted to someone who looks great for them on paper? How many people are attracted to people who seem “wrong” for them? What we call “chemistry”, intense attraction, the Hollywood idea of being in love – are actually the workings of our unconscious.
We develop the idea of what “love” is based on our interactions with our primary caregivers. Harville Hendrix, Ph.D., a famous couples therapist, talks about the “Imago”. This is the image that we develop of love– a compilation of the good and bad from our primary caregivers. When our unconscious spots the imago in another person, we feel attracted. If we had parents who were consistent and caring and able to attend to our needs, we will be attracted to a partner with these traits. If one of our parents abandoned us when we were young, or was emotionally unavailable for us for whatever reasons, then we will be attracted to someone who will eventually trigger that feeling of abandonment.
Both partners, however, are usually unconscious about this. Have you noticed how relationships change after you get married? People often find themselves acting in habitual ways that mimic the emotional interactions in their families of origin. Perhaps it is because the psyche is able to relax. We often find that we ended up, unbeknownst to us, marrying someone who is like our mother or father. There is a healing purpose for this madness. Salvation, you might say. It is necessary for us to marry partners who will recreate our childhood wounding scenarios, because if our partner is able to respond in a way that our caregivers were not, our deepest wounds are healed and we come closer to wholeness.
So, in this view of marriage, conflict is necessary and good. Couples often feel hopeless when they reach a point of severe conflict in their marriages. The feeling is uncomfortable, but if they can work through it (therapy is helpful), the marriage can progress to the next level. Just as our two year olds need to say “no” and our teenagers need to rebel to develop a healthy sense of individuation (knowing that they are whole and separate people), our marriages also need to develop to the level where we are individuals with different needs and wants and desires who choose to be married to each other.
Here are my favorite marriage tips:
Your marriage can be a path toward wholeness for each of you.
Written By Elaine Chan-Scherer, LCSW
Our lives are full of beginnings and endings. I used to hate endings. But I am beginning to see how important it is to end, so that something else can begin. We see this in nature – after summer we have fall and winter. We begin and end a school year, or a calendar year. I am writing this as the year of the Tiger ends and the year of the Rabbit begins. When this article is printed, it will be the season when Christians contemplate the last part of Jesus’ human life. We need to end one thing to make space for another thing to emerge.
John O’Donohue, in his wonderful book of blessings called To Bless the Space Between Us, introduces his chapter called “Beyond Endings” with these words:
“Often what alarms us as an ending can in fact be the opening of a new journey - a new beginning that we could never have anticipated; one that engages forgotten parts of the heart. Due to the current overlay of therapy terminology in our language, everyone now seems to wish for "closure". This word is unfortunate; it is not faithful to the open-ended rhythm of experience. Creatures made of clay with porous skin and porous minds are quite incapable of the hermetic sealing that the strategy of "closure" seems to imply. The word completion is a truer word. Each experience has within it a dynamic of unfolding and a narrative of emergence. Oscar Wilde once said, "The supreme vice is shallowness. Whatever is realized is right." When a person manages to trust experience and be open to it, the experience finds its own way to realization. Though such an ending may be awkward and painful, there is a sense of wholesomeness and authenticity about it. Then the heart will gradually find that this stage has run its course and the ending is substantial and true. Eventually the person emerges with a deeper sense of freedom, certainty, and integration.”
When coming upon the ending of a particularly life-nurturing relationship for me, O’Donohue’s idea of “completion” was helpful. I could feel “complete” instead of holding on to the idea that I was missing a part of me. Something in the relationship, and in me, was now “complete.” This is different from the idea of “closure” which allows less access into the richness of my past interactions.
It is easier when “completions” occur by our choice. However, even in endings that are not by choice, this sense of “completion” can be authentic. It may take longer to feel complete, but it is possible. Different layers are a part of this completion process. My father died when I was a teenager. Decades later, I am still discovering subtle layers of understanding that contribute to “completion” and wholeness.
We often help our clients in this process of completion. The process involves creating space and safety for any unprocessed feelings to emerge. We create this space and safety through deep listening. The client feels accurately heard and/or seen. We use different methodologies including dream work, art, observation of and integration of the body and its language, ritual, and active listening and reflection to connect to unconscious parts of the psyche. We understand that the psyche attempts to protect us when we are confronted with something we don’t like by going around what it perceives as a threat. We, as therapists, are guides in being able to hold the “awkward and painful” so that these feelings are integrated into a sense of being whole and complete.
“Often what alarms us as an ending can in fact be the opening of a new journey - a new beginning that we could never have anticipated; one that engages forgotten parts of the heart.” Here’s to forgotten parts of the heart. May we rediscover these parts in ourselves and allow these parts to come forth in others.
Written By Tina Smelser, MFT
I have been thinking about the meaning of practice lately, and would like to share some of my thoughts with you. I’ve been realizing that pretty much everything I am doing is practicing something. For example, if I am not practicing standing up straight, I am practicing not standing up straight. I first had this realization a couple of years ago, when I had let myself go too long without a vacation. I started looking ahead excessively, overly focused on my upcoming vacation, unwittingly practicing being somewhere other than where I was in the present. What I discovered was that once I actually was on the vacation, it was very difficult to give up what I had been practicing. When I was hiking in the woods, I was looking forward to eating lunch. When I was eating lunch, I was thinking ahead to the book I wanted to read. When I was reading the book, I was anticipating taking a nap. It took me a couple of days to actually be there, enjoying what I had been looking forward to as it was happening! I try to remind myself now that if I want an enjoyable vacation, it would be better to practice being fully where I am in non-vacation mode, making it easier to be really be there when I reach the vacation!
This is a type of practice that is unconscious, where we get better at a behavior by repeating it, but without even realizing that we are doing so. We do this all the time with body postures, messages we tell ourselves, ways we communicate with others.
There is also conscious practice, where we purposefully set aside time, space, and energy to engage in a specific behavior. It might be a creative pursuit, such as music, writing, or drawing. It might be the physical practice of a sport, the spiritual practice of meditation or prayer, or the physical/spiritual practice of a body/mind discipline such as yoga or T’ai Chi. There is great power in practicing whatever it might be and observing the changes over time in yourself and in the form you have chosen to practice. To nurture your practice, you may want to find a class, a group, a teacher. You may want to set aside a specific time of day when you know your energy is most in sync with the practice, as well as a place that is as conducive as possible. Having these frameworks in place can help support your intention to practice.
In looking for inspiration for this article, I turned to a couple of my favorite books, The Listening Book-Discovering Your Own Music, by W.A. Mathieu, and Free Play-The Power of Improvisation in Life and the Arts, by Stephen Nachmanovitch. In The Listening book, in a small chapter called, “Telephoning Counts”, Mathieu writes of the importance of the preliminaries of practice, likening it to clearing the forest as part of building the house. He says that when you are dialing the number of the babysitter so that you will have time to practice, you can say to yourself, “I’m doing music now”. (p. 79).
In Free Play, Nachmanovitch writes about the difference between the typical western way of looking at practice, and the typical eastern way of looking at practice. “The Western idea of practice is to acquire a skill. It is very much related to our work ethic, which enjoins us to endure struggle or boredom now in return for future rewards. The Eastern idea of practice, on the other hand, is to create the person, or rather to actualize the complete person who is already there. This is not practice for something, but complete practice, which suffices unto itself”. (p. 67-68). He also stresses the importance of ritually preparing for practice, and finds that in preparing to create, he is already creating. (p. 74).
Practice takes discipline. The discipline of doing something even when you might not really feel like it. In the contemporary New Age mentality, there is an underlying directive to “Follow your Bliss”, or “Go with the Flow”. I wonder, does this contradict the idea of practice, which might not always feel like bliss, or flow? Perhaps a way to hold both is in seeing the bliss or the flow as the overarching inspiration, while understanding that the small steps on the path may not feel always blissful or flowing, but may be a necessary part of the journey.
With my therapy clients, I encourage viewing change as a process. For example, to learn how to manage one’s anger, it takes practice to recognize the early signs of anger, practice to disengage from it, and practice to find a constructive way to express it. After practicing other ways, often for years, the new behaviors may feel foreign. It takes repetition for the new ways to start to feel familiar. I have read that it takes 21 days to change a habit. While I tend to balk at statements that give one number that supposedly can apply to everyone for anything, I can appreciate idea of practice that is implicit in this statement.
I hope that these ideas have spurred your thoughts, and will encourage reflection about what you may be consciously or unconsciously practicing in your life.
Written By Julie Terraciano, MFT
I have recently returned from my first trip to Africa. What strikes me after a few days of readjusting to our time, is that this was my first real voyage out of my comfort zone. Inspired by friends, who had ventured to this distant continent in a volunteer capacity, I felt drawn to a similar experience. My discomfort began the moment that I started to consider such an adventure for myself. I know now, that the simultaneous feelings of being called as well as the anxiety, and excitement, that I might experience, can point the way to something that I will ultimately find very satisfying.
After considering Zambia, Kenya, Tanzania, Ghana, Mali and Senegal, I settled on the latter. A neighbor described, in glowing terms, her semester abroad experience with a lovely family in Dakar. I saw her pictures, considered my own long relationship with the French and France, of which Senegal had been a former colony, and wanted to explore further. Through a cultural center in Dakar, the Baobab Center, I became aware of the 10,000girls.org program in Kaolack, in the center of Senegal, and its director, Viola Vaughn. When I learned that she had been born in Detroit, as I had been, I felt that something was, indeed, calling me to this locale.
Like many volunteer programs abroad, 10,000girls.org offers volunteer possibilities in teaching English, supporting health education awareness and helping with small businesses, which, in this case, is a pastry shop. I was open to helping where they might need me. Upon my arrival, I learned that I would be assisting the woman from whom I would rent a room, in the organization of computer clubs for the girls in the program. The girls were willing to make a time commitment during the summer and into the school year, to learn skills vital to communication in our world.
When I told the last check-in person in Paris my destination, she replied: “Vous avez de la chance, Madame!” Five hours later, when I heard Bass, one of the family members of my only connection in Dakar, say my name, I knew that she was right. Pulling away from the airport, I saw, felt and smelled a different world. Beaten up cars filled the narrow road that led into town, where I would spend the night in a hotel, before heading out to my worksite. People were everywhere, by the side of the road, walking, standing, hanging out, next to or on other broken-down cars….and we were listening to Senegalese music…a music that would soon begin to fill my soul.
During my ten-day stay in Senegal, I felt a continual sensory overload. The numbers of people, along the roads, in the marketplace, selling mangoes, asking for small change, speaking to me because I was foreign, reminded me to turn to a very helpful meditation! The heat, typically around 100 degrees with high humidity, left me perspiring, profusely at times, all day long, and very ready for the cold-water-only shower. The absence of garbage cans in this town of 200,000 staggered my sensibilities. The eternal bargaining for anything in the marketplace, including taxi rides, left me frustrated and in admiration of the Senegalese who so skillfully navigate their way through one of their own forms of socializing.
At the same time, my heart was overwhelmed by the openness of all of those people whom I encountered in my daily life in this Muslim culture. The large family with whom I lived, consisted of a mother, originally from Morocco, several sisters, brothers, and their families. They described their family relationships, reveled in being photographed with my digital camera, and laughed heartily as we discovered commonalities in our humor.
The women who run the 10,000girls.org program have found their way there for a variety of reasons. Some were married unwillingly or with little awareness of the implications at a young age. Some have families. Many had little training in running a school or being involved with a bakery. All are determined to create better lives for the girls whom they are helping stay in school and for themselves as well.
Now, when I look at my photos of the girls who came to the computer club meetings in those far away towns and villages, I see their beautiful smiles, the lovely vivid colors of their summer clothing, and the sweetness in their souls. They are fortunate to have this program as a way to connect to the world and I am fortunate to have spent the time that I did with them.
The opening that my voyage to Africa has created for me is already apparent in profound and small ways. My heart aches when I notice….almost all of the time right now…how clean our sidewalks and streets are. It seems unfair that we have a milder climate than our fellow planet-dwellers do. I am more tuned into what is happening and where it is taking place in our world. While family has always seemed important to me, it seems even more so, after my experience. The friends whom I made during my journey reminded me of the importance of friendship, at home and across the world. So I am grateful, for the opening that I followed with my heart, and want to share that with family, friends and the wider community.
Written by Tina Smelser, MFT
“I wish I could just have a big epiphany and see everything differently…”. In my work as a psychotherapist, more than once I have heard a client directly or indirectly express frustration about the hard work that it takes to make real, lasting changes in his or her life. I respond that in my experience, it usually takes small, gradual steps over time to really start seeing, feeling, and behaving in new ways.
It is no wonder, in this present-day culture of the “quick fix”, that we expect changes to happen quickly. Glancing through a women’s magazine while waiting for a haircut recently, I see ads that state, “30 seconds to radiant skin”, “5 minute workouts”, and “speedy suppers”. I even heard a late-night radio advertisement claim to “change your child’s problem behavior in one minute or less!”
I have had the fantasy of marketing my work with the statement, “real change takes time”, as an antidote to the dramatic promises of quick and easy transformation. When I half-jokingly mentioned this to a marketing friend of mine, he said, “you’d be wasting your money”. I guess I already knew that.
In pondering the question of epiphanies, I talked to some friends and colleagues about their experience of epiphanies; times when there was an illumination that resulted in a shift in the way they saw themselves, or their world. As I recount some of what I learned, I admit that my findings are not based on a large body of scientific research. I quote the friend of a friend who says, “every generalization that I’ve made in my life has been based on a sample of no more than seven”.
I heard about a range of epiphany experiences. Some people immediately recalled a specific, memorable, life-changing moment when everything became clear and their experience of themselves changed. Others spoke of several, smaller epiphany experiences where there were more subtle, yet very real shifts.
I noted that there were different conditions that seemed to enable people to be receptive to the epiphany; in some cases, being in nature was an important element, in another, being a part of a spiritual group or in the presence of a spiritual teacher. One person had a life-changing epiphany while on LSD. In most cases people were away from their everyday, fast-paced lives; even if only for an hour on a bodywork table or in a psychotherapy session. Sometimes it was during a transcendent period in life, such as the birth of a child, the death of a loved one, or a serious illness. Some experienced moments of deep clarity while walking, doing yoga, or engaging in more vigorous forms of exercise.
In myself and my clients, I have noticed moments of finally “getting” something that one has been exploring and working on for a long time. Perhaps one knows something intellectually, but the shift comes when one knows it on an emotional and physical level as well.
Unlike the “happily ever after” promise of the fairy tale, the changes that an epiphany brings are not just instantaneous and not just positive. Once the clear understanding arrives, it can often take quite some time to integrate the changes based on that understanding. Sometimes the changes may be very unsettling; for example, when one suddenly knows with certainty that he or she can no longer stay in a relationship, a job, or a town. The ripples from the epiphany can involve a great deal of pain and struggle, the type that are a necessary part of growth. It can also be painful to return to the challenges of daily life after having experienced the timeless, spiritually-connected quality of an epiphany.
It was inspiring for me to talk to people about their epiphany experiences; it seemed to bring them to a time of deep engagement with life. It is rewarding as a psychotherapist to serve as a witness to both the occasional grand and the frequent subtle epiphanies in the lives of my clients.