The Corona Borealis.

It starts well, I feel that I'm talking to the person, not the role. He tells me his news, I join in. I am interested and sympathetic and ordinary. And I am aware that I'm in another one of the therapy forbidden zones; the place of 'chit chat'.  But it seems OK? And he instigated it? So what goes wrong? He is saying - not dramatically, but directly and uncompromisingly - 'a theme, it's becoming a theme...' He says - "There is one narrative going on with you and quite a different narrative going on in me. Mine is being asked to do things which I'm then not allowed to do. For example last week you asked me to talk about the stuff that's here (my assignment?) but we are always side-tracked" Did I? I didn't ask him? I seriously doubt it... And now I'm panicking!  Because the real problem must be my feelings for him!  They have leaked out?  Is it obvious? IT IS OBVIOUS! He knows... OK, breathe! But under the surface... No! Do not try to

Time to let go to a year's worth of work.  I began this blog to help me make sense of what had happened to me - and in October 2023 I decided to take this a whole step further - I set my intention to explore the role of Eros in therapy.  There are many reasons why clients complain about therapists, but the complaint that terrifies therapists more than any other is sexual misconduct. When there is any intimation that Eros is the third presence in the session, the sensations begin to close down rational thought and both people may feel an overwhelming need to brush feelings and energies 'under the carpet'. This is a very powerful feeling for both clients and therapists. And a therapist who starts, merrily brushing away , will probably rest easy, believing that no harm has been done. I don't know if that is how Kit feels. I think he did the best he could do, but brushing things under the carpet was his response. And this turned out to be as harmful as the behaviors more u

Yesterday I sat in the shadow of the Tor.  I had come here to complete the June visit - I connected my mp3 player to the sound bar and played a song by a young man whose death had led me here.  I thought of standing up, before letting the sounds ripple out to the four corners, to tell the whole story to everyone - and actually, in retrospect, perhaps that would have been the right thing to do.  But, I didn't.  I just played it.  It was time to let his ghost, go... As the music rang out I remembered sitting in the chamber of the coroner's court as the inquest was heard - and making my commitment to train as a therapeutic counsellor.  To become the sort of therapist he might have chosen to talk to. My question then was how do I prevent this death happening to others...or rather, how do I become the kind of counsellor who might be able to change someone's mind enough to alter their direction. At the inquest we heard that everyone had tried, everyone had done their best, so -