Excuses

We all make 'em. We know we shouldna hadna done it, but we can't let  ourselves be wrong, so we come up with 'em.
Excuses. Rationalizations. Whatever you want to call 'em. (My brother-in-law, who is a cop in Baltimore, won't tolerate 'em: "That's an explanation," he tells the driver who just ran a red light and is trying to talk his way out of it, "An explanation, not an excuse!") We may or may not believe what we are saying as the words come out of our mouths, but we have difficulty admitting we did something wrong. Or, more exactly, that we did something wrong and got caught! 
So we park in that handicapped spot because we'll only be a minute. Or we push our loaded grocery cart into the Express Lane (12 Items Only) because all the other check-out lanes are so long. On a more serious level, we get verbally, even physically abusive with someone because they just don't seem to want to listen. We leave our dog (worse, our child!) in a boiling hot car while we run in to the store for a few things.
Most of the time, if we stop and think, we realize that we should be more considerate, less rushed. But in our pressured society (and that pressure comes from ourselves), we never stop and have little time to think. Except in the aftermath, when we are able to be incredibly creative in reasons why we aren't to blame.
Yes, there are some who believe their own excuses. That's why they call 'em rationalizations, 'cause they're so, um, rational! But such are also those who go through life never accepting responsibility, never seeing the places where personal growth is necessary. 
For most of us, we need to use  those Three Little Words more often. Oh, not those; they're important, but I was talking about: I was wrong!

What Are We Fighting For?

Many years ago (oh! so many!) a conference I was attending faced a decision on a controversial issue. (So long ago I can't remember what issue, nor which side I was on.) The person who was pushing this particular issue was memorable, if only because he was so abrasive.  And, no, he was not me. But as his various attempts to get his motion(s) went down in flames, he became more and more desperate and, hence, pitiable. By the end, if he had not been so outraged and angry, he would have been in tears. He  pleaded with the delegates at the conference to give him some small token, however meaningless, so he could return to his supporters and comfort them with that vestige of victory.
Alas, he was denied even that.
Today our public discourse has been reduced to a similar level of seeking complete and utter dominance. Unlike my friends the Quakers, where decisions are based on seeking consensus and common ground, decisions today are focused on winning and losing. If you ain't fer us, you'se agin us.
In other words, power. Control. The other guy must submit, totally and even willingly. If not, that person must be forced into subservience and obeisance.
Yes,  there are important issues today and they need to be addressed openly and honestly. But too often today, the debaters in the public square descend to arguments that could be summed up on a bumpersticker. (And not a very nice one, at that!) This is not the sort of sincere dialog that one should expect, but children arguing on the playground. If you can't answer your opponent's argument, then cast slurs upon him or her (the more personal the better). Or try to out-shout your opponent. If all else fails, resort to violence.
It is possible to take opposing views seriously. And sometimes to recognize that a valid idea might come from someone you disagree with on everything else. Yes, admitting that you could be wrong on this or that does not make you a lesser person. In other words, we do not have to take complete, total, unquestionable control over everything.
That's God's job.

And After the Silence...

Shoulda known better. Just after that glorious day of sailing when all was quiet and serene, my next time out was not so good. Oh yes, it was still wonderful (Any time out on the water is wonderful.) But we had barely got out there than the breeze died, and we had to use the motor to get us back...
Still, it caused me to ponder (as what does not?) Too often we seek those times and  places of silence, and then don't do anything about it. The stillness becomes a place to escape to, rather than a harbor out of which to sail.
It has been observed that action and faith must be yoked. Yes, we need those moments when we can be still and know God, those passing experiences of the divine. But sooner or later we must come down from the mountaintop and put that inspirational catharsis to use.
Much as works without faith are just empty sounds without sense or meaning, signifying nothing (with apologies to Shakespeare), so our avocations of faith without visible evidence are merely mouth-noises. Never mind what you say you believe, I need you to show me what you are doing about it!
Too often, clients come in without anything that brings meaning to life. Never mind what it might be, or if I would agree/approve/understand. Such are going through life without a sense of direction or purpose. They are like sailboats when the wind was gone, and they are thrown back on waiting for a breeze, or giving in and limping back to the dock via their little diesel engine.
Yes, there are periods in everyone's life when some new direction arises, and we set off on a divergent course. Times when some new insight points us to port or starboard, calling for a new setting of the sails. Times when it is only a matter of minutes before that fresh coastal breeze comes along and off we go again. But we can also choose what we believe, and what we intend to do about it, the same way some sailors contrive to keep moving regardless of the whims of Aeolus (that's the god of the winds, to you.)
So what do you believe? And what are you doing about it?

Sound of Silence

The sailboat needs a motor to push it out of the harbor, past the bridge and into the channel and finally open sea. Then the captain and crew raise the sails and turn the boat over to the winds. And for however long the boat stays out until it is decided to head back in, there is silence. Oh yes, there is the rush of the water past the hull, and the gentle shush of the air against the sails and perhaps quiet talk between those on  board. But in a world where is always background noise of a motor, cars rushing past, someone playing music much too loudly, being out on the water is a blessed moment of stillness.
When was the last quiet moment you had? There seems to be a human  need for such, whether it be an organized silent retreat or a few minutes of meditation alone. Yet at the same time, many become very uncomfortable with silence, even deliberating seeking something to dis spell it at quickly as possible.
Granted, some silence is manipulative and unwelcome: the person who refuses to respond to an urgent question, the child who deals with fear by withdrawing into silence, the abuser who uses silence an a tool for intimidation. But most will starting talking about something, anything, in the face of  a silence. Or they will turn on music, take sudden interest in some side attraction, do something outrageous to fill that awful silence.
What could  be so frightening about silence? Could it be that we will be brought face to face with something in ourselves we have covered over by noise? Or maybe we will feel a loss of control when we come up against that most uncontrollable force, silence. When things get silent, we are pushed back into ourselves, and whatever we might find there.
That is why psychotherapy so often calls on the therapist to be silent. Freud called the silence of the therapist the "greatest gift" of therapy, as it sent the client into necessary inner work. Of course, it assumes the therapist knows how to shut up!
And it helps to have moments of silence, on a sailboat or elsewhere!

Things Ain't What They Used To Be

Among the many interesting things that show up on Facebook lately is a nostalgic game, where some obscure object or person is captioned, "Who/what is this? Click 'Like' if you know." The people are mostly old television personalities; the objects can be everything from a potato masher to a boot scraper. They are from the era of the baby-boomers (my people).
Two reactions: some people have way too much time on their hands (but then, they're on Facebook, so isn't that a given?) At the same time, it is interesting that so many have become so fascinated in things of the past. Call it nostalgia, call it escapism, call it a resistance to change; it is still living today while remaining fixated on yesterday.
And not just any memory, but those good ones where we knew what would happen next. The painful ones, the losses, the difficult times, they are glossed over as we luxuriate in the comfortable times when everything was just fine.
The problem with these Good Old Days is that they never really existed. Our memories of growing up have been carefully edited by our minds to tone down the painful moments, to forget the failures, to make each of us the star, the hero of our particular life story. Yes, there may have been times in our past when things seemed simpler, choices were easier, and worry was not really an option. But those were days when we simply didn't know how complex, how challenging life could be. When we had grown-ups to take care of us, when we had a world bound only by getting through the day.
We didn't know, and wouldn't have cared if we did know, about people living during those same Good Old Days whose experience would not be anything to look back upon fondly. The people of color who wouldn't be served at some of those soda fountains we remember. The low income people who couldn't afford that television set to watch the programs we remember. The children whose family was a place full of shouting and physical abuse rather than the place full of love and care we remember.
Yes, we can draw strength and comfort from our memories when today becomes difficult. But we have to make sure that we don't make yesterday, a yesterday that may never have been, preferable to today. Things may not be the way they used to be, but then they never were.

Forget It

More and more doctors have begun a reminder practice. Assuming that clients need that little nudge (which is too often necessary), they have a policy of calling the day before an appointment to remind someone of the appointment time the next day. Yes, some of us never did have the memory retention necessary, so that call may be a sudden jolt, but still helpful.
Despite the implication that most, if not all, lack the responsibility to keep track of obligations, the reality is that the most common excuse given for not showing up is "I forgot." Of course, this can mean many different things  depending on the context.
(1) I forgot because I made this appointment in a moment of crisis, but now the crisis is past. So I really don't want to deal with the stuff that caused the crisis, until the next time.
(2)I forgot because I realized it would cost something (the co-pay at least) and I don't have enough. Which is part of my problem to begin with.
(3) I forgot because I didn't want to make an  appointment to begin with. But my mother/spouse/friend pressured me so I made the appointment just to shut 'em up.
(4) I forgot because it means I have to face my problems, and when I get this anxious and depressed I just ignore everything and expect it to go away. (Sort of a problem preventing its own solution.)
(5) I forgot because I tend to put everyone and everything else before myself. So not only does this mean I have to focus on me, it means I have to let all the other demands aside. And there is always another's need, another's problem that comes first.
(6) I forgot because I don't remember making the appointment to begin with. I called when I was high or drunk or just traumatized by the awful things that have happened.
There are other reasons/excuses, and each are quite serious and sincere. The spouse who makes the appointment for marital counseling but subsequently finds that it is futile to try to put Humpty-Dumpty together again. The client who is looking for a particular sort of therapist who can solve all problems quickly and easily. The one who waits until the marriage is almost burned down  before agreeing that some improvements would be good.
Hence the reminders. My attitude is that the people who call are adults, responsible adults, and  I will not infantilize  them  by chasing after them to make sure they show up for their appointments. Yes, it might mean some clients never do show, but I would rather that than having to pursue clients who make appointment after appointment, only to blow each of them off.
Still, it would be nice if people had better memories...

No Help At All

He terminated therapy after several months of hit-and-miss appointments. Sure, in the beginning, he was always there, but as time went by, he would show up later and later. Or he would call at the last minute with some crisis preventing him from being there. (Once he called from a class which was running longer than he'd expected!) Finally he announced that he wouldn't come any more, as he felt  the sessions were not helpful. Oh well, at least he came for an appointment to tell me...
It would seem obvious that not every therapist can help every client. People can be quite particular and even sophisticated in who and what they are looking for in a therapist. Some have had  numerous therapists, and they are willing to move on if they feel the current one does not measure up. They may not be completely clear as to just what exactly they seek, but they seem quite sure if this therapist is not it.
And then there are those clients who come, not for themselves, but for someone else. The abusive alcoholic angry spouse or partner who is told (by the court if not the spouse): therapy or else! The grown child still living with parents who is pushed into therapy with the need to find out what he/she will be when grown-up. The couple coming with each expecting the solution lies  in the other person changing.
Of course there is the financial aspect. People come because their employer tells them: you need help, and your job is on the line. They come under their Employee Assistance Plan, where they pay nothing for the sessions and obviously think it worth every penny.
And there is the religious issue.  Because I am a pastoral psychotherapist, people come to me expecting something like they would get from their pastor. But even there, the spectrum is wide, from beating them over the head with the  Bible to prayer and meditation. Yes, there are some clergy with the necessary skills to handle some short-term issues, and they know when to refer someone.
It is still a sense of loss  on the therapist's part when help was not possible. As suggested above, that may have little to with the therapist. But a good therapist wants to help, and it does no good to realize intellectually that no one can help everyone.
Which doesn't stop you from trying!