Quick and Easy

Someone once concluded a lengthy epistle, "Sorry for the long letter, but I didn't have time to write a short one."
Which makes one wonder at the amount of thought and effort being put into the various shorter forms of communication so predominant today (texting, twittering, posting et al).
We live in a society whose two greatest virtues are speed and convenience. We want what we want, and we want it now. Even more, we want it with minimum effort or difficulty on our part. Someone recently suggested that the remote was central to our world, and people would rise up in fury if it were taken away. As a symbol, there is little better. I measure out my days in coffee spoons, and an indication of my great maturity is that I can remember when one had to get up, go to the television set, and change the channels by hand! But today we are so accustomed to double-clicking the mouse and getting what we seek almost instantaneously. We communicate (in the form of our choice) by e-mail not letter. We cook our meals by microwave. We travel by car or plane quickly, and require entertainment whilst we travel to distract us from how long it takes. We don't even need to go anywhere to shop: We order on line and then wait impatiently for the snailmail to deliver our order.
So it should be no surprise that people seeking counseling expect the same quick service. True, much of it comes from the medical model where the right pill or the right treatment is all that is necessary. Most insurance companies won't pay for more anyway. And there are many forms of psychotherapy that cater to exactly this expectation. The concept that people might need more care and consideration does not enter into this equation.
Okay, so we may be past the era when people would spend days and days and days in therapy. But we are not past the reality that most of us might take a long time to change, anyway. No, sir, that includes even those who improve their lives by sheer denial. And yes, madam, that includes those who make minor cosmetic changes and assume that all can be solved by rearranging the deck furniture on the Titanic.
We aren't talking here about those who "recover" by a flight to health, a sudden panicky determination that everything is all right after all. Nor are we talking about those who face obstacles not of their own making (family, job, legal problems).
So when someone who has been previously cooperative and even has been making great strides precipitously terminates or simply begins missing appointments, we have gotten beyond the earlier, easier stages of therapy and hit the area which will not be comfortable and will seem very slow, well-nigh endless. But this is where the real work lies. And it is hard work. But it is the only form of therapy which makes the changes necessary.