Sandy Clarke
ANN/THE STAR – It’s a common anxiety among therapists that we need to “do” something in sessions with our clients to feel we’re helping them. We might search for a penetrating question or a well-timed technique or exercise. We might provide something for the client to take away and practice in between sessions, and some therapists will give worksheets or journal templates.
All of the above can be useful aids in helping someone gain insight and understanding or motivate them to practice, say, a self-compassion exercise to help reduce judgemental thoughts.
I should note that there are as many opinions on how therapy should be done as there are therapists. We all have different styles, personalities, and preferences, and we practise different approaches to therapy.
If effective therapy is to take place, an important aspect of therapy that runs through all legitimate approaches is the relationship and rapport that exists between therapists and their clients.
Something I remind myself when I meet new clients is that a person is coming to me hoping to be helped in some way, and possibly sharing insights into their lives that they’ve never revealed even to close family members and friends. While some people will come with a clear sense of what they wish to work on, others might come to therapy with the desire to explore what’s on their minds. They want a space in which they can express themselves to someone who is not going to judge, dismiss, or heap advice on to what they want to share.
Indeed, sitting across from me could be someone who’s never been given the space and freedom to express themselves. Perhaps they’re so used to keeping the peace and suppressing their thoughts and feelings, they feel that whatever they have to share is no big deal or that they’re being self-indulgent in wanting to express themselves.
To that end, I aim to be mindful that I – or any therapist – might be the only person who gives someone the time, space and place to slow down, be listened to, understood, and accepted.
On that note, returning to the idea of “doing” something, one of the most helpful things we can do for another person is to be there and listen to what they have to share without acting on the need to advise, problem- solve, or (with good intention) minimise whatever they tell us.
For example, if someone’s having a tough time at work, the chances are they’re not looking to be reminded, “Well, at least you have a job, many people aren’t so fortunate”. They’re likely looking for us to empathise and show support, “It sounds like you’ve been having a difficult week, do you want to talk about what’s been happening?”
It’s difficult to overestimate what we give, what we do, when we offer another person our attention and presence. As renowned American psychologist Irvin Yalom suggested, people might not remember what you told them in a conversation, but they’ll always remember how you made them feel.
A common caricature of therapy is, “All you do as a therapist is simply listen to people”. While the statement itself is misguided, therapy does include attentive listening and focused attention: how many of us can say we find it easy, in a normal conversation, to really listen to another at length?
And yet, despite the many advances in digital connection and communication, it’s my contention that many people are starved of meaningful conversation and genuine connection.
Much of how we communicate and converse is superficial and brief. On the other hand, we all know how it feels when someone is truly present with us and provides us the time and space to share what’s on our mind.
If I may be somewhat bolder, I’d even argue that some people who appear like they neither welcome nor desire to connect to others to express themselves often have the deepest yearning to do so, which remains suppressed. This might be, in part, due to never being taught how to connect deeply with another or that they should.
As a pioneer of humanistic therapy, Carl Rogers wrote, “When a person realises he has been deeply heard, his eyes moisten. I think in some real sense he is weeping for joy. It is as though he were saying, ‘Thank goodness, somebody heard me. Someone knows what it’s like to be me’.”
When we listen to another’s thoughts and feelings, we’re already doing more for them than we realise. What might not feel like much to us can feel like everything to the other person.
Some of my best teachers, who include close friends and family members, are those who demonstrate patience in listening, don’t give unsolicited advice, and provide plenty of space for meaningful conversation to take place. In the presence of these people, I’m always left feeling grateful and uplifted, not least of all because their examples remind me of the importance of making others feel seen, heard, and that they matter.
