There are crimes of passion and there are crimes of logic.

– – Albert Camus

Introduction

Many of you, I’m sure, probably have heard such adages as: Life always appears to be moving between extremes. Or perhaps, you’ve listen to people giving you advice claim: You have to find the balance between the extreme polarities of living.  No doubt, when we reason or reflect on decisions we’ve made, or actions we’ve taken, we tend to think in terms of polarities. Was I too angry? Was I not angry enough. Do I live life too cautiously and avoid risks? Do I take too many risks? Was I acting too rational, or should I have gone with my gut? And the questions seem to never cease. When certain decisions tend to work in our favor, we think we have found the right balance or nodal point on the continua that appear to make up living. We think we have life nailed down only to find out that the next time around, in trying to maintain the proper balance, things don’t work out the same. What is one to do?

Well, quite frankly, I have no idea what one is to do. More specifically, I have little understanding in what I should do from one major decision to the next. No doubt there is such a thing in life called wisdom, but I’m not sure I have the market cornered on that notion. Well, let me retract. I am sure – I don’t have that market cornered. One of my favorite authors I have read over the years is Albert Camus. Now-and-then in interviews, he would talk about his personal anarchy and how troublesome it was for him, yet he never desired to surrender it. So I think I’ll address this topic from a rather radical perspective. I’m going to offer up the point that says: Forget the balance! In fact, trying to figure out how to navigate a continuum can become a problem that impedes the very path one is seeking to navigate. We can get stuck on the continuum rather than doing what we need or want to do.

What are some common continua that people have discussed through the ages? They seem to come up when people want to make decisions, specifically major decisions for one’s life. But I think understanding how certain continua play in our lives involve more that specific decisions. How we think about these polarities we tend to face in living has much to do with how we, in fact, choose to live – to face life. Let’s look at five different continua that people commonly talk about: 1) Rationality or Reason versus Passion or Emotion; 2) Responsibility versus Freedom; 3) Risk versus Security; 4) Relation versus Solitude; and 5) Rebellion versus Conformity. Notice how I used an “R-word” for the first antipode of each polarity? Cool, huh?

Rationality/Reason versus Passion/Emotion

Writers, spiritualists, shamans, and more have discussed this continuum as far back as we can find literature. The wisdom literature of Proverbs has much to say about not letting anger get the best of us. But it likewise discusses the passion of living. The Greeks waxed eloquently on this polarity, and concluded that both are part of life and life’s difficulties, and that both have to be given reign at times. The worship of Apollo as the icon of Reason contrasted with orgiastic rites in the worship of Dionysus epitomized Greek thought on these two apparently opposite ways of taking on life. Everyone knows that navigating life is tricky. Would be that there were formulas for all situations. [However, if there were such formulas, I’m not sure how interesting, exciting, or rich life would be.] Weighing options, obtaining wise input, reflecting on past decisions and actions are all wise and prudent ways to approach life. No one in their right mind would say never consider these approaches in navigating life. Yet we have probably heard others tell us that sometimes we can think too much. Thought can actually impede action. I believe the over use of Reason or Rationality can occur when we demand and expect too much from these two R’s. Reason and Rationality can help us along the way, but can they answer everything we want answered? Perhaps, the problem in our navigating life at times, is that we simply want too much answered before we take a step. Consequently, we don’t step at all. I have definitely heard more than once the input: Sometimes you just have to throw caution to the wind. Such a statement sounds frightening as though we should never think about anything. I believe in the mix of these two polarities, but I have no absolute idea as to what the balance might look like. In my own course of living, I tend to think things through and act or not act. When I want the two R’s to answer all the unknowns before I take on life, then I’m asking too much from them. Of course, the opposite navigation is to hold that reason matters not at all, and to simply move through life acting on one’s gut, feel, or passion. Passion is a wonderful experience. I firmly believe we need it to live a full, enriched life. But we probably all know when we have acted unwisely, or we know people who tend to never think things out or reflect on past experiences in their lives so as to never learn anything. There are times that I have acted on things with little forethought, and it worked out just fine. Other times, not so well. And there are those times that I got stuck in over-think and I did not act at all. Those what-if’s can be nasty stuff, I tell you. Perhaps what we should take from this navigation is not to camp at either end of the pole. Keep navigating. As for the balance. You’re going to have to work that out for yourself.

Responsibility versus Freedom

I sometimes wonder why Responsibility and Freedom are put on a continuum, or why they’re considered a polarity. I tend to agree with the existentialists here that these two so-called antipodes are actually two different sides of the same coin. Where I see it work as a possible polarity in my life, as well as others, is when we want the freedom to choose something – a course of action, a relationship, a major crossroad in life – but we don’t want the consequences if the choice turns sour. This seems, once again, the old desire of wanting all the unknowns made known before we venture into life. I hate to admit it, but there are times that I actually despise the reality that there are unknowns in life. But I also admit that I truly believe that the unknowns are what make life exciting. Life would be truly boring if we were omniscient. [I suppose anyway; I’ve never been omniscient, so I don’t know.] Those golden, but at times painful, opportunities to learn from our mistakes are what we call growth pangs. And isn’t life about growth? Does not our sense of competency and confidence in living come from mastering things that have been difficult for us? Rather than viewing Responsibility and Freedom as a polarity, perhaps we should think of it as a way of living – period. Wanting the freedom to choose, but avoid the consequences that come with the choice is what Sartre called cowardice and bad faith. I also tend to think it’s rather adolescent. However, I don’t want to be too judgmental here, because I succumb to this temptation as well. Perhaps wanting the freedom but not the responsibility is another way of avoiding living all together. I don’t know. If you think you can pull it off, that’s one you’ll have to figure out for yourself as well.

Risk versus Security

This is an interesting continuum, and I particularly see it in the way we depend on powerful people to take care of us. It’s rather like continuing childhood where perhaps parents guarded their offspring against the frightful realities of living. But on an individual level, I think the fear involved in navigating this continuum goes back to the root problem of wanting to have all the answers to life’s dilemma before stepping out to encounter what life has to offer. One of my favorite Robin Williams’ films is The Dead Poet Society. One of the characters in that film, a high-school student, became enamored by a young coed from different high school across town. He decided he believed in the power of poetry, so he risked reading her a poem in her classroom before school started. He read the poem and quickly retreated back to his campus. His friends back at the prep school he attended asked him: Did it work? He shrugged his shoulders and said: I don’t know, but I did it. And the fact that he did it meant everything to him. The weighing of risks may default to the first continuum discussed. Are we asking too much of the two R’s before we risk certain things?  The desire for security is another thing all together. No doubt, we want to navigate life’s obstacles in ways that keep us safe and secure. But one cannot help but ask the question: If I don’t take certain risks, will I achieve the security I desire? And as important: If I do take certain risks, might I lose the security I have? One of the first sentences in M. Scott Peck’s book, The Road Less Traveled, states: Life is a struggle. It appears once again that if we camp at either one of these poles, we might not achieve or accomplish all we want for our lives. Is there a right balance to Risk versus Security? I have no idea of how to answer that question. Individuals appear to possess a vast difference as to how risk-embracing or how risk-avoidant they are. And then, there are most likely specific times in all our lives that we are called to be one or the other. You have to answer your own call on that one.

Relation versus Solitude

Throughout the history of literature, particular spiritual literature, solitude is considered a discipline. It is a time to reflect, slow things down, focus our attention, or relax our harried lives. Yet I know people who are literally frightened beyond the pale of spending time alone. We probably all know those individuals who define their lives, indeed define themselves, by the relationships they engage. [P.S. I’ve been there; don’t want to go back.] As well, we may know people who view their lives as miserable if they are not in an intimate relationship. Hence, they bounce from one intimacy to another. I believe our culture, today, does not value solitude, and in fact, grossly misunderstands it. So it would be easy for me to value one end of this continuum. I want to avoid that misperception. But think about the way our culture views so-called extraverts and introverts. Introverts tend to feel that something is wrong with them. They understand that they don’t make sense of life the same way as extraverts do. Sometimes they may be viewed as stuck-up or snobbish. This is particularly the case when introverts are shy. [Not all introverts are shy; the two concepts should not be equated.] They are told: You need to be more outgoing. Don’t be so quiet. Get out and meet people. Stand up for yourself. The gregarious and the ones who are the life of the party tend to be valued in our culture. Several excellent works have been written on this subject. The Party of One: A Loner’s Manifesto by Anneli Rufus addresses her struggles as one who valued being alone most of the time throughout her life. Susan Cain’s Quiet speaks to similar concerns of being an introvert in a society that values extraversion. And Diane Senechal discusses the problem of group think in the schools in her work The Republic of Noise. I truly believe that solitude is a lost art. I am naturally a loner, and have experienced the misperceptions due to that fact. One of my favorite TV dramas is Criminal Minds. I always have to smile, when the serial killer they are chasing each week is described as a “loner”. Loners, know you’re misunderstood on so many levels. However, I also realize that people can use the notion of solitude to avoid connectedness. I, in fact, tend to do just this. Solitude should help us, as stated above, reflect, slow down, come to a greater sense of who we are as individuals, which should, in turn, enhance, not impede, our connectedness. No doubt, we learn much about ourselves through relationships, and we are left much less enriched if we don’t have close friends and people to whom we can turn in time of need, or people with whom we simply spend time. The caution, once again is to not camp at either pole. I know many gregarious individuals. Some know a multitude of people, but they do not know and are not known by anyone. And I know those who would use their solitude because they do not want to risk relationships, particularly close, intimate ones. Where’s the balance? I have absolutely no idea. You have to walk that road on your own.

Rebellion versus Conformity

As said, one of my favorite authors is Albert Camus. Camus was an interesting individual to say the least. He was the icon of James Dean cool in the 1950’s. He, unfortunately, died in a car crash at the age of 47 in 1960. Until that time, he had been a prolific writer and playwright. Rebellion appeared to be his middle name or nickname. His collected work of essays, entitled Resistance, Rebellion, & Death, and his book The Rebel, addressed many of his philosophical positions on what it meant to be a rebel. His was no romanticized viewed. He strongly believed in the destructive power of conformity, what Nietzsche would call the herd-mentality. But his view of rebellion was not an adolescent view of rebelliousness for the sake of rebellion. He believed that inherent in life and the people we encounter in life lies the overwhelming coercion to conform, on some level. And, from his perspective, conformity on any level, must be questioned. To align with social values while one has thought through and understands with what one is in alignment is one thing. But to align without question, is another thing all together. Personally, for me this is not merely a polarity for which integration must be found. Rebellion versus Conformity is a legitimate struggle in life from my perspective. Conformity is the life-canceling end of this polarity. We do not own our lives if we conform without question. And today, we live in what I perceive as a highly conformist society. It tickles me silly at times to hear how our society is called an individualist one. Wish to heaven that it was. But rebellion is an individual act. It’s a mistake to view it as a social or collective act. Collectivism of any form is conformity. It is the herd mentality. Each of us must consider how life asks and pressures us to conform, and how rebellion will play a vital part of the way we carve out our own paths for living. I tend to favor Rebellion on this so-called continuum. However, becoming rebellious for the sake of rebellion is just another way of conforming. Our Rebellion is a personal act. This is one of the most interesting continuums to me because I believe that we can easily slip or drift into conformity without realizing it. Is there a balance? I personally don’t believe so. In what ways might you need to rebel so as to claim your life as your own? That’s a path you have to cut for yourself.

Conclusion

Five continuums or sets of polarities present themselves to us, it seems, in our navigation of living. I’ve heard people speak of balance, integration, resolve, etc. I have no idea what any of that may look like for others. I have a difficult enough time trying to figure out what it looks like for me. Perhaps, a caution is to avoid camping on either end of the so-called polarities, if indeed they are polarities at all. Perhaps the notion of polarities or continua are nothing more than an interpretive grid we place over our quests to make sense of living. They do appear to present themselves as various ways of navigating life. That navigation falls in the purview of each one of us. Your life is yours to navigate. Navigate well, my friend. On this side of living, it’s the only life you have. [As far as I understand.]

John V. Jones, Jr., Ph.D, LPC-S/November 14, 2014

GENERAL ESSAY

I suppose that since I’ve entered that segment of life that the institution for which I work designates as, “Phased-Retirement”, I might be accused by some as having too much time on my hands. These thoughts I set forth here are indeed a product of that free gratis that I like to call, “time for reflection.”

Only six weeks have passed since my new phase kicked off, and already I have to say – I love it! Not because I like not going to work. I actually love teaching at the university level. But more so because the time has allowed me breathing space for reading, traveling, exploring various ideas and other avenues for fulfillment – all those things that work and a savings account can create for someone. Now with these degrees of freedom, I’m truly faced with those sweet existential plumbs known as, “choices.” The feeling is one of having new paths thrown open before me. One might call them beginnings. And beginnings have always excited me. These fresh choices of new beginnings have helped me realize something else that I tend, unfortunately, to forget much too often.

Life is a gift. And it’s one I believe that we need to delve into it with everything we’ve got, however we define that for ourselves. We are here; then we are not. Whatever one may believe transpires afterwards, this space-time reality we’re in right now is the one we have – for right now. I can’t help but wonder what I’m called to do with this time.

But there’s another side. How many countless millions of people face circumstances in which it’s hard for them to fathom life as a gift? They see no place that life can take them; nor do they have a view of a future where there might be possibilities for delving full-throttle into life. They exist now in places all over the world where oppression, disease, and death are the rule rather than the exception. History is replete with their horrifying stories from Gulags and genocides to famine and starvation. There “choices” are about mere survival. And then there are those who have faced such horrifying circumstances, yet emerge from them with a full-blown belief that life, yes, indeed, is a gift. It seems sometimes that those who have experienced the darkest of times can emerge from that darkness with the view that life is worth all the choices we can muster. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Viktor Frankl, Elie Wiesel come to mind as examples of those who garnered strength from shattered circumstances. There are many others, and their stories have been told. I remember a line from the movie, Doctor Zhivago, uttered by Julie Christie’s character, Lara: “This is such a terrible time to be alive.” My present circumstances, to be quite frank, are easy. I do not live in what I perceive to be terrible times. Yet harsh realities are all around: terrorism, war, Ebola, an economy on the edge of an abyss. Situations can change in the blink-of-an-eye. Yet it doesn’t take catastrophes for me to easily forget the gift of life. Taking life for granted is a human flaw. I hope that my present circumstances, blessed as they are, do not blind me to the fact I must take hold of the advantages I have to obtain the kind of life I want for myself. Given human nature, blessings can lead to complacency. And wrapped in complacency, I can let slip by, unnoticed, all the incredible opportunities and amazing paths for discovery and experience that life has to offer. It’s an easy thing to do. Complacency is an easy chair that beckons lazy bones.

Time compresses the living. It seeks to teach us that it always surges forward. It doesn’t pause, stop, nor turn back. At first it seems unending, wide, broad, flexible, and deep. But then it begins to bear down on one with the question: How much of it do I have left? It’s not a question that anyone can answer, so I’m not sure that it’s one worth asking. What is worthwhile is the pursuit of life and all that it has to offer and throw at us. Time compresses the living always. We just don’t notice time until something makes us notice it. The full engagement of life is as important for an eighteen-year-old as it is for me at sixty-seven years old. Time bears down. One day we turn around and it slaps us in the face with the raw fact that it always has been working that way. While time is never-ending, on this side of time, we are not. If we are blessed with having “choices”, we had better look into what it means to make the best of them.

What do you want to do with your life? What dreams do you hold that set your soul ablaze when you think about them? What values do you hold to your core that you want to define you by the way you live them out? What wild ideas do you have that you would love to take hold of and race after, even when everyone else might be saying, take caution? Caution, advice, and wise counsel are necessary things for living. But take care that words of so-called wisdom come not from those who kill dreams. The killers of the dream are all around us. Sound wisdom helps us discern those we can trust from those we can’t when it comes to seeking help with our life decisions. But at the crossroads of living, the choice of which road to take belongs to each one of us alone.

Life is a gift. Step into it as one. And discover all it has to offer you. If you are blessed with having choices, seize them, weigh them, and then make them. And never stop learning from them. The gift of life is what you have now. All that lays before you are your choices to make of it what you will.

I suppose that at this phase of my life, such thoughts as these emerge from that pull that calls me to reflect on the signposts that have marked my paths. But to reflect on what kind of life you want for yourself is worthwhile at any phase of life.

Meanwhile, time bears down.

John V. Jones, Jr. Ph.D., LPC-S/October 14, 2014

GENERAL ESSAY

Introduction

Last month’s (07/14/14) Post on my blog, Contemplations, marked the end of my first year of blogging for this site. My first year as a blogger passed almost without notice until I realized that with “The Edge of Existence”, the number of blogs had totaled to twelve. Consequently, I’ve been racking my brain over what to write to inaugurate my second year of blogging for Contemplations. Only a few months ago, I changed the subtitle of my blog from, The Center for Existential Psychotherapy to The Art and Skill of Living. Since I altered the name of the blog, I’ve been pondering what the change means as far as any new directions the blog might take. Thus far, I haven’t come to any concrete decisions. So! I thought I would kick-off my second year of blogging by doing just that, pondering. Well, not exactly, but elaborate a bit more about what the future might hold for this blog. I thought at first, I would entitle my blog, “What the Future Holds.” But such a title sounds rather presumptuous. And, quite frankly, I don’t know what the future holds. The title sounds like some kind of prophecy. So here I sit, pondering the directions this blog might travel, so forgive my meandering thoughts as I talk about some of the things I think I might want to do over the next year. Of course, tomorrow is another day. (Anybody know that movie? Hint: Vivian Lee.)

Life Outside of Therapy

The first thing to probably logically consider is the change of subtitle to, The Art and Skill of Living. The major change the subtitle brings to this blog is that it takes the website out of a therapy setting, and broadens its scope for topics by placing it beneath a larger umbrella. One of the reasons that I think this happened in my thinking is that my life has now moved into what the University I work for designates as, “Phased Retirement”. I’m blessed and fortunate, at this time, to be in a position that I have more options available to me than the workaday world of academia, teaching, and a part-time private practice. There are other things in which I’m interested. One thing that this time of my life has done for me is present itself with the excitement of new avenues to explore, skills to develop, and opportunities of which to take advantage. Another thing that this phase of life has shown me is how over the years, I’ve rather compartmentalized my life around my career, believing that my focus, interests, and desires should be thrown totally in my work as a professor and a part-time counselor. Something inside me always raised its antennae at times, telling me I really didn’t want to live like that. But now I realize how much my life has revolved around teaching, therapy, and ideas associated with that world. I’m thankful for the choices I made toward a career, realizing decades ago that I wanted to teach at the university level. It has been a good life, and the world of counseling will always be with me on some level. But there are other roads out there. I’m ready to get my motor running and head out on the highway. (Anybody know that song? Hint: Hermann Hesse.)

The World of Ideas

One of the reasons I wanted to teach at the university level is that for a number of years, the world of ideas has always drawn my interests. I thought that being in a university would be the perfect setting to explore ideas around people interested in the same thing. Much of that is true; some of it, however, unfortunately, is not. The university has its bureaucracies and hierarchy like any other institution. And requirements like publishing articles, training counseling students, staying on top of info so that it doesn’t become dated and stale, are just part of the work. And teaching in a graduate counseling program, almost by necessity, frames the ideas with which I would be, for the most part, involved. I also realize that, like any setting, one has to make of it what one can, and not let it dictate one’s life totally. Sometimes I was good at that; other times, not. But over the years, I was able to read from other fields besides counseling, and the therapeutic world lends itself to the exploration of the history of thought and philosophy. Having obtained a master’s degree in literature, I kept one foot in that field as well. But now, I have open before me the possibility of exploring various fields, writings, endeavors, and ideas. I am particularly interested in how ideas impact people in a way that places them on their paths of living. What are the ideas that people live by? What ideas do people hold with passion? How do people draw on their life experiences and beliefs to make decisions, minor and major, for their lives? These are some of the avenues that I envision as a possibility for exploration in my life, and hopefully, to some extent on the blog for my readers. I strongly believe the old adage, “Ideas have Consequences.” So I hope to expand the doors of my perception and see where the road takes me. (Doors of Perception: Anybody know the poet from whom that came? Hint: It’s not Jim Morrison or Aldus Huxley.)

Anarchism

One of my favorite writers is the old anarchist, Albert Jay Nock. I have definitely more than leaned toward anarchism the last few years. (Shhhhh! Don’t tell anyone.) But Nock wrote an autobiography that he called, Memoirs of a Superfluous Man. Speaking about the world of ideas and how they influence one’s living, I have to say that Nock’s work is one of the most enjoyable reads I have ever undertaken. There are many battles I have fought over the years, with other people and inside myself. These conflicts have various battlegrounds – academia, church settings, political discussions, conversations about the arts, and more. The road I’m on now, and one on which I hope to stay the course, is away from, letting go, unhooking from – however one may want to characterize it – those battles and chiefly the traps into which I tended to fall regarding them. It’s not that I don’t think that the ideas associated with and the content that formed those conflicts are unimportant. On the contrary. But sometimes the fighting, both external and internal, took my eye off simply living my life out the way I want to. So I have decided along with Nock, to live superfluously. That means, in other words, living my life regardless of how others might frame, interpret, critique, or moralize about it. Such a letting-go process is not easy. And it’s a process that I’ve been engaged with for a number of years now. So it’s becoming easier. In all the arenas I mentioned, I believe we are at a crisis moment. Quite frankly, I think we’re in for some dark times ahead of us. And I think we’re all going to have to find our way of relating to those with whom we disagree, and carving our paths regardless of how others might view us. That’s never an easy task, but one I think life calls us to do. I would get into what I mean by “dark times”, but such prognostication would take the blog off track and spoil its otherwise lightheartedness. So for now, no reason to get excited. (Anybody know the song that line came from? Hint: Jimi Hendrix did not write the song.)

The Arts

I don’t consider myself an artist. I wish I could on rather a selfish note. A couple of years ago, I self-published, under the name, V. Jones,  a book of short stories called, Echoes. No one is knocking down the door to get to it. But that’s okay. I hope this fall, speaking of new avenues, to publish a book of poetry. Nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoy the arts – cinema, literature, music, painting, photography, and all that one can experience. So one of the roads I want to take, given the new time I have on my hands, is the exploration of the arts, perhaps reaching for amateur-status in an area, and writing about ideas behind the creativity that artists experience. Several of my blogs have already covered topics of authors who have impacted me, books that have shaped my worldview, and reviews of books I think are important reads right now. I want to continue those endeavors, and open up possibilities for me there as well. By the way, regarding my forthcoming poetry, I stumbled across an interesting quote from a great poet that gives me some hope: “Minor poets emulate; great poets steal.” Nothing wrong with aspiring to greatness. (Anybody know which poet said that? Hint: He wrote a poem that was a famous Lovesong.)

Traveling

Everyone who retires says, “I want to travel more.” Well, I want to travel more. It’s not that academia didn’t afford me the time and support to travel to workshops, conferences, and more. I’ve visited from Palm Springs, CA to Cape Cod, and places in between, lived in the Midwest for five years, and had a seventeen-day stay in Italy and Sicily. But there’s more I want to do. And on top of that, I want to write about it, of course. Visiting and learning about new places is always an exciting way to broaden one’s perspective, for sure. There are trips I would love to do that make up my bucket list, such as, The Cross-Continental Train Ride across Canada, a visit to the Painted Desert, Petrified Forest, and Grand Canyon. So bucket lists are definitely part of this phase of life. I’ve spent many years living in the world of ideas. And the one thing I don’t want to happen is to live life in an abstraction. The concrete highway is where I want to feel my feet. So I’m looking forward to this phase of life I’ve entered, all that it will bring, and how any of that might show up on this blog. So I’m going to get my motor running. (I’ve come full circle, and back to that one. Anybody figure it out yet?)  Full circle means it’s time to conclude this essay.

Conclusion

Not bad, for a meandering essay, when I had no idea what this month’s blog would be about. Call it an accidental celebration of a year anniversary. But I hope readers who cross its page will find food for thought, but more than anything, find some enjoyment, and a few chuckles as well. Here’s to the second year of blogging. (And that’s not from a poem, a song, nor a movie.)

John V. Jones, Jr, Ph.D., LPC-S /August 14, 2014

General Essay

 

 

[Key Words: change; human change processes; theories of change; mindfulness; neuroscience]

Introduction

Everyone who is a Trekky fan remembers the opening to the 1960’s television extravaganza, Star Trek, in which the narrator boldly proclaims space as the final frontier. At the time that television show premiered, we had yet to land a man on the moon. In the 21st Century now, although far from finished, we have explored space in ways only imagined in the 1960’s. Likewise, from Sir Arthur Evans on, we have dug through the ages of the earth’s core to explore our archaeological and geological pasts. And with the adventurous spirit of Jacque Cousteau, we have descended to the the depths of the ocean and continue to explore that unknown region as well. I would like to pose a new possible region of exploration, one that some people may think we have already figured out. With the emergence of cognitive science, neuroscience, and technologies that aid in our understanding of  our neurological system, we are now at the edge of a new frontier: human change processes. Our previous simple formulas that sought to explain humans change no longer appear to apply, given the new data that the neurosciences and brain technologies provide. Human change processes, a notion emphasized in research done by Michael Mahoney,  now appear more complex than we ever thought possible. The repercussions felt by such technologies will resound throughout several fields, including not only neuroscience and neurology, but also the philosophy of mind/body, and the science of human change processes, specifically psychotherapy.

Seeking to Understand Change

What is change? How do people change? What exactly changes when people do change? I would like to claim that I’m clearly and succinctly about to answer all these questions in the essay that follows. But forgive me if I don’t make such a fool of myself. I believe strongly in the idea that personal change is spiritual and mysterious in many ways, and that although the sciences can help us come to grips with important matters regarding human change, they cannot illumine the whole process. Because human change processes are still a frontier for discovery, change is a phenomenon to explore for the sake of adventure, about which to make guesses just for the fun of it, and for which to pretend we know what we’re really talking about so as to impress ourselves. So I’m going to have some fun and throw out some ideas regarding change for the sake of exploration and focus on an emerging view of change that a variety of practitioners, from psychotherapists and pastors to yoga instructors and meditation trainers are discussing today – mindfulness training.

Psychotherapy and Change

Psychotherapy is often about some form of change. People contact therapists, generally, to alter something going on in their lives – i.e. to make changes. They may desire their environment or the world around them to change. They may want other people to change. Or they may hope that they can bring about some kind of change in themselves. So the word, change, is packed with melded perceptions, ambiguous meanings, and even mysterious connotations. When we delve into and seek to clarify exactly what we mean by change, suddenly we encounter just how difficult it is to describe this human experience. But whether or not clients realize it, when they enter a counseling room, personal change is the territory onto which they have stepped. Rarely do people’s environments and relationships change unless personal change occurs as well.

Obviously, physical change is the easiest phenomenon to recognize, but when someone says, Bill is a different man, rarely are they referring to anything physical. Perhaps Bill’s core values have changed. Maybe it’s his overall demeanor that’s different. Or it could be his emotional make up, or his modus operandi for engaging life. Somehow, it’s clear that Bill is not the same person he used to be. When people talk to Bill now, they are acutely aware that it is not the same Bill with whom they used to converse. But if Bill, indeed, has changed, what exactly is the difference? And how did such a difference come about?

Conceptualizations of Change

For centuries, philosophers, scientists, spiritualists, and religionists have theorized about the phenomenon and experience of human change. In the field of psychotherapy alone, we encounter a plethora of theories about what change is, and how personal change comes about. In this essay, I’m going to explore human change as a mystery, without any promise that I’m going to clarify much at all. Although I promise no clear-cut answers or foregone conclusions regarding change, I do recognize that one’s view of change is premised on one’s view of human nature. My personal bias or leaning is toward an understanding of change that proposes some type of spirit/mind/body interaction. I also believe that our lived-experience allows us to make a distinction between minor and major, or superficial and deep change. Such a distinction is theorized in a number of ways. Moreover, I believe we can understand change only in holistic terms.

Theories of Change: A Quick Overview: The First & Second Forces

Psychotherapy formally began in the 19th Century, although human beings have explored the notion of the psyche and spirit for centuries, dating back before Biblical and Greco-Roman times. Likewise, traditions in the East exploring the notion of change date back centuries. But what some have designated as the first two forces of psychotherapy, psychodynamic and behavioristic, had their beginnings in the 19th Century with the work of Sigmund Freud and Ivan Pavlov. For decades these two schools of therapy offered contrasting views of human nature and change. For the psychoanalytic and psychodynamic theorizers and practitioners, people must undergo deep intra-psychic restructuring for long-lasting change to occur. Another way to put it is that an individual’s personality must change although defining what is meant by personality is not an easy task. In contrast, the behaviorists, following Pavlov, and culminating in the 1950’s and 1960’s with the work of B.F. Skinner, sought to simplify the notion of change. If people change their behavior, then they have changed. Both of these schools of therapy generated methodologies and technologies they used to put to work their respective theories of change.

The Third Force

In the late 1950’s and throughout the 1960’s into the 1970’s, what was called the third force in psychology emerged, a school of thought called by a variety of names – phenomenological, Rogerian, existential, and humanistic among others. People such as Rollo May, Viktor Frankl, Irvin Yalom, Carl Rogers, and more recently, Emmy van Deurzen explicated the multifarious theoretical foundations of this school. Their understanding of human nature countered both the psychodynamic and behavioral schools, which led to their name of the third force. Emphases, such as human-beings-in-context, enduring suffering and conflict, values clarification, personal meaning, and self-actualization became some of the major themes of this school, with each theorist focusing on a particular theme or set of themes. This third force also emphasized the place of the human will, values, and spirituality in contrast with the more deterministic viewpoints of the first two schools. Human change came about when people explored who they are, who they wanted to be, and what values they decided to own for themselves. This school challenged people to decide for themselves what they valued, and how they wanted to live.

Evolutions and Permutations

The above description of the three forces of psychotherapy is a necessary brief and over-simplified one. There are a number of permutations in thought, evolution of ideas, and continued research in a variety of fields that have continued to address human change. The behaviorists school, for example, through research in cognitive science, cognitive psychology, and Artificial Intelligence evolved into the cognitive-behavioral school (CBT), emphasizing that human change involves a change in one’s belief structures. Major change comes about when people alter their core beliefs. CBT is a major force in the field today with prolific research in the treatment of psychological disorders. And CBT has evolved with the development of what is called the third wave of cognitive and behavioral approaches (touched upon below). Likewise, there are a variety of psychoanalytic and psychodynamic schools that have been influenced by neuroscience and studies in human development and attachment.

And So It Continues: The Fourth Force

Psychotherapy has now witnessed  the evolution of what can be considered a fourth force in psychology: the postmodern school. This school of thought, emerging from such philosophies as deconstruction, has sought to alter the power in therapy, giving prominence to the client. Its philosophical foundations also run counter to the medical model exercised in the psychoanalytic and cognitive behavioral schools. Its relationship to the DSM-V is cautious at best, antagonistic at worse. Although it runs counter to much of what has preceded it, we are seeing now an incorporation of postmodern thought in other schools. Lacan in psychoanalysis and the cognitive constructivism of Michael Mahoney are such two examples. The school is likewise multifarious, given rise to such approaches as constructivism, social constructionism, and narrative therapies. And so it continues.

Mindfulness as a Counter to Technologies of Change

Some Caution

All these schools of thought, individual theorists within each school, have their own take on human change, what it is, and how it occurs. Not only will I not enter the debates here, but also I’ve experienced that the debates can be rather divisive, fruitless, and ultimately pointless. Although I lean more toward the third force with some smatterings of the fourth, and some residuals of the first two, I do not believe any one school of thought has the corner on the truth. I tend to agree with Karl Popper – let’s become more enamored with what we don’t know rather than with what think we know. Returning to the beginning of this essay, for me the notion of human change, particularly revolutionary personal change, is a rather spiritual, mysterious, awe-inspiring experience. Having said that, I would like to simply throw out an idea for possible brainstorming and exploration. A view of change has emerged that, paradoxically, tends to focus less on trying to change, and more on learning to cope, which in some unquantified way ultimately leads to change.

Mindfulness

As I stated above, my personal view of change, although far from clear in my own thinking, involves some type of spiritual/mental/physical interaction. I believe we are holistic beings, and we need a conceptualization of change that goes beyond mere techniques in therapy – technologies of change. Mindfulness approaches have emerged in the field of therapy from Eastern traditions, particularly Zen and other forms of Buddhism. (I am neither a Zen nor any form of Buddhist.) A mindfulness approach has presented itself as possible foundation on which all the schools of thought can rest. From my perspective, it is spiritual in nature. The question emerges: Might mindfulness be a unifying force to many of the school or therapy wars that the field has had to endure? I personally believe that mindfulness offers something valuable that can be integrated with a variety of conceptualizations of human nature. Mindfulness has already influenced all four forces on some level. Much of existential thought meshes well with mindfulness. Additionally, its impact has been felt in the cognitive-behavioral school in the form of what is called the third wave of that school, seen in the development of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT), and Acceptance & Commitment Therapy (ACT). Several postmodern approaches have sought to incorporate mindfulness along holistic lines of mind/body, drawing on the work of Daniel Siegel. Neuroscience has indicated that mindfulness practices can alter brain structure and increase healthy brain functioning. Once again, at the risk of over-simplifying, mindfulness approaches basically work with people to change their attitude and relationship to the conflicts and suffering they undergo. For me personally, unlike some of the Eastern thinking that holds suffering is illusionary, I believe suffering is very real and realistically and holistically painful, influencing spiritual, mental, and physical levels.

The Quick Fix

I also believe, however, we live in an age of the quick fix. We want a pill to make us feel better – NOW. We ask therapists, doctors, pastors, and politicians to end our suffering – ASAP. What mindfulness perspectives can possibly bring to the table is the importance of slowing down, reflecting, taking stock, and learning to cope with what we are experiencing – and if possible, to find meaning in such experiences. Such a view integrates with my Christian worldview, and I find it workable with the way I want to engage living. Particularly, third wave approaches, such as ACT, address the importance of clarifying values and making a commitment to align our lives with values we claim to hold. Again, what mindfulness brings to the table is a counter attitude that says, as we clarify who we are, what we believe, and how we want to live, then we will be more able to take on the real difficulties in life that come our way. Such difficulties are not necessarily resolved quickly, and we simply cannot avoid them. Mindfulness does not say to us to give in to the difficulties of life, but that when they come, not to avoid them in ways that prevent us from working through them.

Conclusion

The above discussion, for sure, is an over-simplication of the major forces and ideas I have sought to merely touch upon. There are numerous schools of thought, conceptualizations, and research from a variety of angles presently underway on human change. But the one thing I believe we do face in this culture is the idea of the quick fix. I, too, am susceptible and have succumbed to it too many times. We are an over-medicated society, which has raised healthcare in terms of the medical model to the level of an altar at which we grasp for hope and meaning. Perhaps it’s time to look at a different angle on how to work through and find meaning in the way we relate to and face our struggles in living. Perhaps a mindful way of living can help us do that. And as we find ways through our values to face our personal difficulties, maybe we will glean a little more understanding of the nature of what it takes to be human and experience personal change.

John V. Jones, Jr., Ph.D., LPC-S/May 14, 2014

GENERAL ESSAY

The primary thing is wisdom: Acquire wisdom;

And with all your acquiring, get understanding.

– – Proverbs 4:7

[Key Words: Book of Proverbs; wisdom; comfort with ambiguity; certainty; patience; life-skills versus technical skills]

Introduction

For many, the Book of Proverbs  must serve as an emollient against the various scars we take on in living. The book informs us about the importance of wisdom for living out our lives, and facing all that life brings our way. If the work of counseling entails being present with people as they struggle with what life throws at them, and if life-struggles require that we develop the necessary skills to navigate such struggles, then the Book of Proverbs, indeed, has something to offer all of us, whether therapist or client.

As a professor and professional counselor, a question that periodically emerges for me is: Exactly what do I impart to my students, interns, and clients? How do I know if I am serving them well? The approach I take as a counselor draws on what are called the four dimensions of existence (discussed in another essay on this blog), one of which is the spiritual dimension. As one with core spiritual beliefs, I find these questions, rather than having simple answers, call on one to engage the many struggles involved with personal meaning in life.

In my work with both Practicum students and graduate interns, one of the more frustrating experiences I observe in them is their desire to do something for the client, to provide them with an exit from or a way around their dilemmas. Obviously, as a professor, I desire that my students learn, and, as a therapist, I hope to be of legitimate help to my clients. But I believe the frustration surfaces for students and interns when they want to provide quick, clear, cut answers for their clients. Moreover, they want to see their answers (rather than the client’s) work. If they work, then they feel as though they have provided something concrete for the client. Now I recognize that not only students and interns experience this gravitational attraction toward the quick fix. Seasoned therapists do as well. And I experience the same pulls as a professor and a counselor. Legitimately, counselors want to know and be assured that they are doing something for their clients, that the time they are spending together, and the money that the client is paying, are bearing some sort of fruit. But when might counselors’ desires for such proof bring about difficulties for them? And what might I impart to my students and interns to encourage them as they engage these common professional tensions?

Angst and Ambiguity

Although it spawns our growth of knowledge, the quest for certainty can become an enemy of patience. The excessive desire for certainty can throw us into turmoil that we seek to alleviate by turning into an oracle. As such, we hope to provide answers as though they are pills dispensed from a medicine bottle. The process of counseling, however, involves periods of doubt, searching, and ambiguity, both on the part of the client and the counselor. Patience is, indeed, a virtue when we are required to be still and wait out such ambiguous experiences. Admittedly, I strongly believe that one of the most important skills counselors can develop is the ability to sit comfortably with ambiguity. If they can develop it early in their training, it will serve their professional experience well. Therapists need to be comfortable with allowing clients to stew, reflect, struggle, and figure out things for themselves.

Although I do not believe that the work I do as a counselor is identical to what I do as a professor, there are some parallels between the two pursuits. Students want clear-cut answers to the questions and processes they explore as counselors-in-training. Just as counselors experience pressure from clients to shine the light of day on life’s riddles, professors, likewise, feel the pressure from students to provide crystal-blue clarity to the ambiguous processes of human interaction. At times, one may be tempted to throw out a quick formulaic response rather than let the students wrestle with how they conceptualize the work they hope to do. As a professor, I do not view my position as one where I pour answers to academic questions into the minds of my students. I believe one of the more important skills that professors can develop is to find ways that set students on the path of thinking and learning for themselves.  The parallels between my work as a counselor and a professor emerge from the fact that life involves learning, and learning, rather than being merely academic, is about life.

No doubt at times, the pull from people to provide them with a panacea is overbearing. When we detect in our clients’ expressions and eyes that they are lost, confused, hurting, and perhaps hopeless, we feel a weighty desire to reach into their struggles so we can say: this is it; do this; go this way; take this path; this choice is a good one. And such a pull, no doubt, provokes angst. We, as counselors, do not relish angst-provoking situations anymore than our clients do. Many times, however, providing such on-the-spot answers might be the exact wrong thing to do. More times than not, what people may seek when they experience doubt or confusion is comfort and acknowledgement that their struggles are real. Another person’s validation may be more helpful to people at such times than another person’s formula or prescription for their dilemmas.

Patience in Human Interaction

Although I appreciate outcome research in therapy that emphasizes interventions and techniques for working with clients, I believe that much of counseling revolves around human interaction. The variety of ways that clients gain something fruitful from counseling is not easily generalized from research. There is more to human interaction and experience than science can measure. Moreover, much of outcome research focuses on particular diagnostic categories delineated in the DSM-V; however, many clients who enter therapy do not suffer from a diagnosis. (And whether or not the diagnostic categories themselves are scientifically sound is a hotly debated topic.) Many people search out counselors because they are struggling with various concerns in life. The nature of many struggles calls on people to do just that – struggle. Although we all possess that human tendency to avoid or circumvent our struggles, their resolution tends to lie in facing them head-on and working through them. The counseling setting is a place where clients can find the time and space to reflect, explore, and seek to reach conclusions about their paths in life.

I do not mean to imply that counselors do not have something to offer clients, or that counselors do not bring particular skills to the therapeutic arena. The counselor’s role might involve validating clients’ struggles, being present with them in their emotional pain, and serving as a guide for them as they work through their dilemmas. And no doubt, at times, interventions and specific technical skills are highly useful and appropriate. But as I stated above, one of the more important skills that counselors can develop is comfort with ambiguity. I am not sure that the word skill accurately captures that ability. Such presence on the part of the counselor is perhaps better described as an attitude toward experience, or better yet, a way of being. It requires that we, as counselors, become centered in our own being, aware of what we are experiencing in the session, noticing our reactions to clients, including the pull from them that we do something. It requires our being genuine about not knowing what exactly to say at times, much less do. It requires self-integrity and honesty. And such presence requires that we develop the ability to wait things out – in a word, patience. Such a life skill is far different than a technical skill; it pertains to a way of living and is developed through life experience.

I realize that phrases like an attitude toward experience or a way of being might not comfort students or interns’ uneasiness about what they experience with clients. Interns ask questions we have all wondered about as counselors. What do I do when my client is so depressed, he won’t do anything? What should I do if my client is suicidal? What does it mean when my client gets angry and leaves the session early? What can I do when my client is so anxious, she talks the entire session, so I can’t say anything? No doubt, questions such as these beg for quick and efficacious answers. Legitimately, these questions deserve discussion, pondering, and exploration. They also call on counselors to be grounded in who they are, to be aware of their experiences in the session, and to have some understanding of how they personally work as therapists. Such grounding can go a long way in helping us face the tensions we experience in our work with clients. Our awareness of these tensions also informs us that they are the same tensions cached in living.

Conclusion: Acquire Wisdom

Like all human understanding, our knowledge of human interaction is grounded on tectonic plates that shift, which is our development. We are always gaining understanding and developing our knowledge. The Book of Proverbs is an open invitation to gain  knowledge, understanding, and wisdom for dealing with the many vicissitudes of life and the varieties of difficulties that emerge due to human interaction. It tells us that the wise will increase in learning; it’s never a finished process. The overarching theme of the book is wisdom, which can form a core bedrock foundation on which we can rest. From my perspective, wisdom is the opposite of certainty. Wisdom allows us to stand in the midst of life struggles when we are not certain how they will turn out. The Book of Proverbs calls us to acquire wisdom, get understanding, and continually grow in knowledge. Acquire, get, and grow are words that call for action. Obtaining understanding, knowledge, and wisdom requires action on our part. Simultaneously, understanding, knowledge, and wisdom are long-term processes that require reflection on our part. We gain our wisdom in life, not only by experiencing it, but also by reflecting and meditating on what our experiences have taught us. And in the case of those who believe as I do, what God is trying to teach us.

Such reflections allow us to act more prudently toward life. There appears to be a tension between reflection and action, two poles of existence, between which we are always navigating. Sometimes we have to take decided action; other times we have to find rest, be still, and wait things out. Such navigation appears to be a riddle of life we are always seeking to solve. One of Solomon’s stated reasons for writing the Proverbs was so that readers could gain understanding of the wise and their riddles.

So what can I impart to my students and clients? A Solomon, I am not. But I can encourage the people I work with to pursue and acquire wisdom. I don’t possess it so as to offer it externally to anyone in a nutshell. It’s an internal pursuit. I am on the same path as my students, interns, and clients. Hopefully, our pursuit of wisdom can transform the way we sit with our clients, who are people struggling just as we struggle, people striving, as we do, to get through life with as clear of a picture as can be mustered. The spiritual dimension and quest for personal meaning in our human interactions are at the forefront of these pursuits and struggles. But we must be aware that such struggles and tensions take place on a spiritual plane. And as we navigate between action and reflection, we must take what we learn from this process to navigate the similar tension between when we are active with our clients versus when we we rest with them in the midst of ambiguity and  the unknown. As I stated above, this is not only a navigation that our students and interns are seeking to scull through; all of us, regardless of how long we’ve worked in this field, or what stage of life we’re in, know this tension. We experience the pulls, doubts, and confusion that exist within us, as well as our clients. Although we possess techniques and knowledge of interventions we can use with clients, we also possess our human experiences that have led to our reflective growth that life is for learning, and learning is for life. Preferably, we do not leave what we have gleaned through life’s struggles at the door when we enter the counseling room.

John V. Jones, Jr., Ph.D., LPC-S/January 14, 2014

GENERAL ESSAY

[Key Words: finances, financial skills, demands of life, making a living]

Introduction

In the world of counseling today, talking about one’s finances is almost a hush-hush experience, where some counselors might confess that they talk about the filthy lucre behind closed doors. Having taught at the university level for a number or years, I have had more than several students approach me, almost apologetically, with concerns about making a living as a counselor. It is as if such a thought should never cross the mind of one wanting to enter the career world of psychotherapy. Additionally, I have lost count of family members, friends, numerous clients, and acquaintances who had major concerns regarding their finances. Given today’s climate of recession, bankruptcy, government bailouts, inflation, and credit expansion problems, why would we think that people’s finances would not fall front-and-center of their concerns? From an existential perspective, people’s finances belong to the personal dimension. Moreover, while society, the group or the herd might have rules concerning how people think about money, from my perspective, such decisions involve freedom and responsibility on the part of each individual.

Beliefs about finances, like many other aspects of our lives, are grounded in our values, values of which we may be aware or unaware. Finances speak to our ability to continue our work, and to a degree as to whether we succeed or fail, not so much as a measuring stick, but to our ability to carry on our work the way we desire. The financial world is a reality that makes demands on us, as Viktor Frankl would phrase it. To face and deal with that reality does not mean that we need to make money our ultimate value. But we do need a sound understanding of what it means to make a living and to develop skills around money. I want to address two issues in this essay: 1) the finances of the therapist as a legitimate concern; 2) the importance of talking with clients about financial problems.

The Right to Earn a Living

For some reason, many counselors enter the field with the experience that thoughts regarding making a decent income for themselves and family produce guilt trips. After all, is it not true that one of the fundamental values for the counseling profession is altruism? Let me say something up front that might shock many of my colleagues in the counseling world: I am not an altruist. However, that fact has little to nothing to do with my concern for others’ well being and the empathy I can have toward them. I have a strong desire to see people achieve fulfilling lives for themselves and to do well in life – in other words, to carve out the good life for themselves as they see it. As one who approaches counseling philosophically, I believe that one of the most important questions that individuals can ask revolves around the kind of lives they want to live. My approach to counseling challenges people to take stock of their lives. What do they want in life? Are they clear as to what values they hold? Are they living in alignment with those values to which they claim to adhere? And what skills do they need to develop to create the kind of life they want for themselves? To explore such questions, one cannot avoid discussing work, career, or making a living, however one desires to phrase it. Financial stability is an important and worthy goal that people pursue. As any worthy goal, it requires constant development and acquisition of skills, discipline, understanding, and wisdom. As we discuss financial matters and concerns with our clients, we too, as counselors, must come to grips with financial challenges for our lives.

One of the existential writers and therapists who has influenced my thinking is the Logotherapist, Viktor Frankl. Frankl, due to his experiences, emphasizes an idea that somewhat contrast our age of entitlement. He asks people to consider the question what life demands of them. I know in our present zeitgeist, where major financial firms are bailed out by the taxpayers, and we witness so-called successful people seek avenues to avoid the choices they have made, we would prefer to demand from life rather than meet the demands of life. For some, Frankl’s challenge may sound too objectivist, but I don’t believe it is. Some might believe that such a perspective privileges a particular view of reality over another, but I believe that notion is short-sighted. I will say plainly – if one believes that he or she can pursue a private practice in therapy and not consider what it takes to make a living, then a cold, harsh, financial reality will come crashing down on such naiveté. One might think it would be better if such concerns were not part of life. But aside from utopias, the fact of the matter is that resources are scarce. People will choose how to allocate those resources, and that includes their choice as to whether or not to engage therapy. Having insurance does not necessarily alter that choice or the need to choose how one should properly allocate his or her resources.

Consequently, therapists must consider what they offer clients, how much they charge particular clients, and how they assess whether or not what they offer is serving clients well. All these concerns go hand-in-hand with being an entrepreneur. And whether beginning practitioners like it or not, if a private practice is their target goal, then they had best be entrepreneurial in spirit. Counselors need to realize that there is nothing wrong with considering it important to deal with questions about financial matters, and that there is everything right about wanting to succeed both professionally and financially at what they do. In fact, if they do not succeed financially, then they will less likely possess the means to offer their services to those who need and desire them. More importantly, counselors, like anyone else, need, individually, to struggle with the questions as to what kind of life they want to live, how they wish to engage life, and how their values impact the way that want to work and make a living.

Life makes demands on us. There are no utopias. Being a private practitioner demands certain skills that we must develop – financial skills, organization skills, marketing skills, and communication skills that inform prospective clients what we have to offer. Our relationships to clients are important, but they are, nonetheless,  professional as well as therapeutic. As a private practitioner, we have the right to labor at earning a living. (I did not say we have the right to make a living; we have the right to try to earn a living. We may indeed fail at that pursuit.) We have the right to offer our services in a market that will sustain what we have to offer. We need not experience any guilt concerning our professional endeavors to succeed. Nor does anyone own our skills. As private practitioners and licensed counselors, we have studied, trained, and continue to develop our skills. We do not owe our skills to anyone at their discretion. Simultaneously, we can offer our skills to those in need based on their situation and abilities to seek our services. Negotiating and navigating such professional decisions are a part of life and make up the myriad of choices we all make day-in and day-out. Licensed counselors are entering a competitive market. Economic times now demand belt-tightening. How we offer our services and communicate the importance of what we offer will go a long way in helping us continually connect with a clientele that desires to seek us out. If counselors feel guilty about making a living, they will face a difficult time in carving out a place for themselves to offer their skills to those who desire and need them.

Clients search for YOU as a professional. Make sure you have what it takes to be one.

Clients and Their Finances

It seems as though one of the great taboos, to hear practitioners talk, is to discuss with clients their concerns about – shall I whisper it – money (shhh!!). As I stated above, I know very few people who have not struggled with financial concerns at some time in their lives. Presently, we exist in a culture of debt. Over the years, I have talked with numerous people – family, colleagues, friends, and clients – all of whom have struggled with debt and over-spending. Once again, I turn to Frankl’s dictum: life makes certain demands on us. One of the basic themes of existential thought is freedom and responsibility. When we make certain choices, consequences ensue. If we spend more than we make, then we end up paying for it in ways we did not intend. Along with a culture of debt, we also have a culture bathed in immediate gratification. In fact, these two outlooks on life go hand-in-hand. From what I have seen in working with people, delayed gratification is a task that is difficult to learn. (And I include my own experiences in that cultural assessment. I had to work my way out of $40, 000 dollars of credit-card debt.)

One of the things I am aware of as someone who approaches life from an existential framework, is the tendency we have to blame others for our circumstances. Although I am not defending all the practices of credit card companies, they nor anyone else held a gun to my head, forcing me to spend myself into a large amount of debt. I could wish the world to be make up otherwise, but it is not. (Today, I could possibly petition the taxpayers to bail me out of that kind of debt; but that would be the ultimate in existential bad faith!) Consequently, in talking with clients about the choices they make, I think it is extremely important not to avoid talking to them about money when the subject emerges – as it often does. One of the services that I ultimately want to provide is to help people get out of debt. I am not, nor do I want to be, a certified or licensed financial planner, but I am building a referral list of good ones out there to whom I can refer clients. But one of the things about which I can talk with clients, as one who has walked in their shoes, is about the skills it takes to become debt-free. I have recently purchased some books by Dave Ramsey, who has helped a large number of people escape the chains of debt. I think people in debt would do well to work and train with him.

Part of the good life is financial stability, like it or not. Resources are scarce. How one allocates one’s resources is a skill set that needs constant development. How one thinks about money is important to one’s existence, and financial savvy is an important skill to develop and apply to living. It’s an important skill, not because money should rule us, but for the very reason that it should not rule us. When people are in debt, money can easily rule them and become their only focus and worry in life. Skillful and wise living regarding finances does not mean that money must rule one’s life; however, such skills can mean that money never has to rule one’s life.

Conclusion

As I close this essay, I want to make the claim that finances and our beliefs and values around money contribute heavily to how we pursue the kind of life we want. Consequently, discussions about money are real life discussions, both for therapists and for clients. We should determine how we want to make a living and how we relate to our various clients who possess diverse means for paying or our services.

In making such a claim, however, I want to clarify what I have not said. In this politically-correct age where rhetoric is king, I can already hear and feel the words being stuffed into my mouth that I never once uttered nor intended to utter. One, I do not think that money should be the ultimate goal for pursuing any kind of work or endeavor. In fact, from the perspective of my values, the love of money can lead us to become lost as to what we are truly about and the real successes that follow from embracing who we are individually. How one relates to money as a goal, however, is an individual choice. Two, although I do not embrace the philosophy of altruism and notions about the common good as it is espoused these days, that fact does not mean I do not care for other people’s well-being, or that I do not have the desire to see others fare well in life as they pursue it. Indeed, one of my inwardly, satisfying experiences is to see people pursue their personal meaning in life and find their place in life’s journey, as we all seek to do. I also believe that if we develop skills around spending and saving, we will have more to give to those in need as they cross our paths. Whether we give or not is a matter of individual values and choices. As any choice, it has consequences. I believe giving can inspire our spirit, as long as it is not coerced or done to alleviate some guilt trip we have experienced around money. Third, I believe we should find ways to work with clients who are financially strapped. If we each do that as individual practitioners, I think we can meet many individual’s needs as we encounter them. And finally, I am not saying that money or income should be something that rules every decision we make. Nor am I saying that money is the measure of success. In fact, I firmly believe that if we develop skills around finances, money will become less of a concern, as indeed it should be, at least in my hierarchy of values.

Life makes demands on us. Skills revolving around finances and a healthy view of money are a couple of those demands. We could wish otherwise, and find ourselves at the mercy of bad decisions regarding money. Or we can engage the demands of living, and learn to live life skillfully, which at least involves the choice of intelligently and wisely deciding how we want to make a living and use our money. We have bills to pay, mouths to feed, and a future where we grow old and possibly cannot work the way we do in our younger years. No one else can make choices for us regarding those realities. If you want to be an altruist, that is fine; but do not fall victim to other people’s altruism and the rules they will have for you regarding money or success. That is something each individual must carve out for him or herself.

I have been on the other side of bad decisions about money. Presently, I am on the opposite side; I hope I never go back.

John V. Jones, Jr., Ph.D., LPC-S/December 15, 2013

GENERAL ESSAY

[Key Words: Viktor Frankl, Logotherapy, search for meaning, demands of life]

Introduction

Most of us have probably faced situations in life with which we would rather have not had to deal. I know people who have encountered difficulties that I cannot fathom. Cancer survivors, people with heart conditions or degenerative diseases that have disabled their mobility, and victims of debilitating and life-altering accidents all make the list. In my role as a counselor, I have worked with victims of violent crime, sitting with individuals who had lost loved ones to homicide. I have worked with one individual who lost her daughter to suicide while she sat inebriated, not knowing her daughter was dying in the room next to hers. I have heard stories of individuals who have lost their businesses, all their savings, not having the foggiest notion of where they were heading for the future. And in response to each of those experiences, the haunting doubts from the depths of my soul always emerged in the shape of a resounding question: Could I handle what they have gone through? What I do know is that I would rather not have to find out. Yet many times, life calls on us to learn lessons along paths we otherwise would not choose to travel.

The Challenge

One of my heroes (for lack of a better term – and I’m fairly certain he would not relish being called a hero) is Viktor Frankl. Known as an author of many books, perhaps his most well-known work is Man’s Search for Meaning. In that work he details many of his horrifying experiences in Auschwitz and Dachau, unfathomable hells that predictably leads readers to think there is absolutely no way they could have survived what he endured. Yet in that soul baring work, Frankl poses an alarming challenge, one today that I believe our culture may not be prepared to engage – “It is not what you demand of life that matters, but what life demands of you.”

The question begs other questions: What are the demands of life? How can they be described? How can we be aware that they are upon us? I believe deeply that there are no simple, objective answers to these questions. Demands of living are not experiences that necessarily can be quantified for everyone. I feel strongly that we can address these questions as a dialogue with others, or a monologue with ourselves, or perhaps in meditation and prayer, only in a qualitative way. And I think the questions, themselves, perhaps get at a deeper question that lies behind them: Can I carve out a full and enriched life, no matter what sinuous paths the vicissitudes of living take? Or more to the point: When I face unsuspected challenges, losses, and pain, hove I got what it takes to work through such experiences?

 Inevitable Suffering

The crux of Frankl’s challenge revolves around how we deal with inevitable suffering that comes with living. We all suffer on some level, and while it’s a human trait to compare people’s suffering, such comparisons miss the boat altogether. A person’s suffering belongs to that person alone. And although, from the outside, it may appear that one person’s suffering is not as great as another’s, each person must deal with her or his own suffering. No doubt we can learn from how others face suffering, hence the impact of Frankl’s book for over six decades now. But how we face our own individual suffering is our road, a path that belongs to us alone. Whether or not we like it, or whether or not we want to believe it, diverse levels of struggle and suffering, the ominous fear of the cloud of unknowing, and various types of losses and pain are all a part of our experience with living. And equally whether or not we like it, how we face those experiences develop and contribute to our depth of character, in terms of courage, integrity, and authenticity. I say this, desperately emulating the words of Kierkegaard, in fear and trembling. I would prefer not to believe what I just wrote. I would prefer not to believe that suffering is inevitable. I would prefer not to believe that how I deal with suffering contributes to the make up of my character. I would prefer not to have to face the awful demands of life, awful in the sense that although at times such struggles can be terrible, they are also awesome in the sense that they are prodigious, overwhelming, and fearful. They can be awesome, as well, in that they are amazing, wonderful, and beautiful. We see both these aspects of the awful encounter in Frankl’s rendering of his concentration camp experiences. There is the absolute horror of Auschwitz and Dachau, but the beauty of Frankl’s victorious survival, his search for meaning, and the impact of his Logotherapy. Man’s Search for Meaning is a work that depicts  awful terror along side awe-inspiring courage and beauty.

Fruit without the Labor

When I first read Frankl’s work, I was awe-struck at how he not only survived the camps, but also how he constructed meaning through his experiences.  I found myself in that Sartrean script of inauthenticity in which I desired to be where Frankl landed without having to go through the journey he took to arrive there. However, we don’t arrive where Frankl, or anyone else for that matter, arrives in wellbeing without having to do the traveling. Obviously, struggling through life challenges in a way that leads to growth doesn’t mean that we all have to go through the horrors of Nazi concentration camps, or that we even have to face, as many have,  life-threatening experiences to become aware of what is important in life. Yet taking on the demands of life does mean that we must find a way to face those struggles that do come our way, whatever they may be for us individually. I believe we are steeped in a culture today in which we (I include myself here) want the good life without confronting the demands that life places on us. We want the personal growth, character, courage, and integrity apart from the experiences in living by which such traits are forged. We want victory, achievement, and success without effort, setbacks, and the work that goes into such accomplishments. Hence, our views of such endeavors are shallow. It’s questionable whether or not we truly understand accomplishment, achievement, and success. Today, the measures by which we assess such milestones render them as anything but a milestone.

What Life Demands of Us

So how do we know when we are facing those experiences where life calls on us to be more than what and who we are at the moment? We will know, most likely, when we’re frustrated, tired, feeling defeated, perhaps bound by hopelessness, and see no way out of our struggles. We will know when we realize that time might be the major factor that will get us through the struggles we are facing rather than a quick, easy fix. And then again, we may not realize we have gone through such struggles until we have, in fact, worked through them. We realize them when upon reflection, we look back and say something like: That was tough; don’t want to do it again, but I learned a lot about myself from it. In a word, life demands growth, our continued becoming. It calls upon us to personally and inwardly grow from the moment we take our first breath to that moment we take our last. It may be a frightening sign, indeed, when people within a culture want life to be easy and struggle-free, desiring quick answers when problems do surface. It may be a telling sign when achievement and success is measured by celebrity-hood. It may be a tragic sign when people place demands on life rather than face what life demands.

Conclusion

I’m cautious that my contemplations upon Viktor Frankl’s, Man’s Search for Meaning, not be misread or misinterpreted. What I have stated here might lead some to think that life requires suffering, and that we should hope for it to come so as to provide growth for us. In contrast, Frankl warns people not to seek out suffering, which he considers masochistic. Suffering, on some level, most likely will come our way, so we don’t have to go in search for it. The search is for meaning when we find ourselves dealing with some form of suffering. Likewise, what I have said here might easily be construed by some as a call to man-up, get tough, and stand alone. To some degree, I do not totally disagree with some of that sentiment. However, facing the tough demands that life sends our way doesn’t mean that we have to go through our struggles alone, that we don’t have doubts, and that we never feel like we want to give up. It doesn’t mean that we never feel weak and lost at times. Life is a struggle, is the first line in M. Scott Peck’s book, The Road Less Traveled. Frankl’s, Man’s Search for Meaning, is one explication of what a life-struggle looks like. The depiction of his experiences and how he emerged from them portray a man from whom we can learn. The struggle to take on what life demands of us, above all, calls for us continually to reflect upon and to embrace what we claim to value and believe at our core, so as vigilantly to be aware that we live out those core values and beliefs moment-by-moment within our life’s journey.

John V. Jones, Jr., Ph.D., LPC-S/November 15, 2013

GENERAL ESSAY