Dear Diary,
It has been a while since I have been able to write anything for my blog. I think I might be suffering from writer’s block?
Can it be?
Surely this isn’t supposed to be such a tedious task and rather just flow naturally from the creative process that is therapy?
Ah well, I guess it is at times difficult to find something to talk about even in this content overload society we find ourselves in.
*
For those of you curious enough to wonder if I do keep a diary, the answer is no. And if I did keep one, I guess creating content for it would not necessarily be as complicated a process as creating content for a blog or this abbreviations section of the website.
It won’t be complicated because every day is filled with events; even the absence of events would be considered an event in itself. My diary would be filled with endless doodles, movie references and the never-ending doubt filled drafts of my fantasy football team. My diary would probably also take the place of (or at least be part of) my internal talk, constant reflections, curiosity and philosophical questions.
To some, seemingly insignificant.
To others, relatable and relevant.
The function of my hypothetical diary is to illustrate the difficulty experienced at times in finding someone to talk to. Luckily, this is where clinical psychologists and other helping professions can be of service.
The second function of my hypothetical diary is to illustrate the struggle of creating content. Here, it was being applied to my writer’s block, but this is especially true for therapy.
Often the process of therapy unfolds beautifully between sessions, or problem resolution takes place between making the appointment and attending the session; leaving the client/ patient/ mental healthcare user (after all these years I am still not sure what term fits best) in a position where that what they wanted to discuss becoming somewhat irrelevant. Therapy block of sorts. Unsure of what will unfold now that they enter the therapeutic space unprepared or feeling like it is going to be time wasted as there is nothing specific to be discussed or addressed.
This uncertainty is beautifully complex and simultaneously simple.
It is also absolutely therapeutic.
Creating content for a session is neither the responsibility of the person attending it nor the therapist, but rather the combination of framework, space, attunement, connection and endless potential that lies within both the person attending therapy and the therapist, as well as the relationship.
It may also be more or less than this and attempting to put it into writing does a major disservice to the magic of the fundamental interconnectedness of everything unfolding in the here-and-now of what is called psychotherapy.
For this process does not require any words at all and can be conducted in the complete immersion of silence. It can also unfold in the engagement of abundant nonsensical talk.
Anything and everything have the potential to not only be meaningful, but also therapeutic. And that is why there is no need for a person to prepare or create content for a session.
Trust in the process and it can take us to where we need to be rather than where we think we want to be. Or if I can phrase it differently with a popular song; “you can’t always get what you want but if you try sometimes, well, you might find you get what you need.” (You can’t always get what you want, The Rolling Stones).