Skip to main content

Staying on the straight and narrow

An interesting conversation arose inspired by recent reflections on the various facets of progress.  There is an expression I regularly remind myself of, "progress not perfection" which would not, I suspect, cut it where certain personality types are concerned.  

For some, progress is a single linear transition from A to B, never involving diversions via C.  Others of us progress in a rather less straightforward fashion, diverging off towards, C, D and occasionally even E, if it appeals sufficiently.  It is not the speed, but the scenery that we appreciate, and we are open to learning along the way: the reward is, after all, the journey.  The destination is something we may hold in clear focus, but it is not the be-all and end-all.  We are confident in our ultimate arrival, but are open to growing along the way.  We are not averse to conceding that a wrong turn may have led us towards a T-junction but we view this is something other than a dead-end, for there is often much to be gleaned even in the decision as to when to turn around, and in what direction to make the revolution.  

We do not, I think, ever encounter the same place twice and this is borne of the fact that we ourselves do not tread two steps as the same person.  We are informed by each breath we inhale, each thought we have, and each feeling that arises.  

Starting therapy, either for the first time or the umpteenth time, one embarks upon a journey.  One of the most difficult questions I am forever confounded by is, "how many sessions do you think I'll need?"  I do not wish to avoid the issue, or withhold a professional opinion, I'm simply not qualified to estimate.  There are too many variables, and there is only room for one in the driving seat: my client.  The journey is entirely in your hands.  I may have a road atlas, but within its pages are countless possibilities.  I hope never to assume the position of a SatNav, perched on the dashboard and simply along for the ride, directing individuals towards their stated destination.  Apart from anything, experience has told me that we tend to benefit most when our intended end point changes along the way.
  

"It may be when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey."
Wendell Berry


"A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it."
Jean de la Fontaine


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Table. Apple. Penny.

Whilst there were several places I might have been that morning, I wouldn't have been anywhere else.  The practitioner from the Memory Service arrived promptly.  I liked her instantly.    Mum was nervous.  I think I was a little, too.  It's been a difficult year.   "It's Friday, it's the fourteenth of December and I'm at home..."   No problems there.  CAMCOG, or the Cambridge Cognitive Examination is a thorough assessment tool used to assess the extent of extent of dementia, and to assess the level of cognitive impairment.  The standardised  measure assesses orientation, language, memory, praxis, attention, abstract thinking, perception and calculation.    "Table.  Apple.  Penny."   Three everyday items that were introduced at one point, and then referred to again later on.  Again, Mum was able to recall each.      I am reminded that the only three certainties in life are old age, sickness and death.  Not

Glass half full? Glass half empty? Or perhaps the glass is broken

I am, constitutionally, a glass half empty gal.  I will always first acknowledge what I don't have, what I have lost, and what it is that I am seeking.  I tend to overlook my strengths, concentrating only on those bits of me that are underdeveloped or weak.  I refer to myself as a realist, but in doing so compliment myself and insult those who genuinely are simply realistic.  My modus operandi is to identify what's not working and acknowledge this before seeing more clearly what functions perfectly well.  This has its place: I edit others' written work pretty well.  My fastidious attention to detail serves me, and the author.  Accuracy counts, for me and I have an excellent memory.  I can remember a great many of my sessions with clients verbatim.  Even this asset is something I can, and do, diminish the true value of, by concentrating on 'I should have said...' or 'why didn't....  occur to me during the session?' Earlier this week I was crudely

Pausing in the sunshine

And so, chemo is over.  My best friend's diary has been chocker...  Line cleans, blood tests, scans and 18 weekly doses of the gruelling treatment itself.  Summer seems at last to have arrived and with it, we hope, some time, peace and space. She is, we acknowledged over a rather yummy luncheon served to us beneath the beautiful canopy of creepers and climbers at Petersham Nurseries, an inspiration. A small group of us gathered to celebrate her forthcoming marriage.  The sun's rays joined the warmth we all have for this very special woman.  Warmth and, in my case at least, pride. It is the greatest privilege to call this woman my best friend.  She continues to epitomise my understanding of grace.  Our bodies are fragile things.  Our minds are frailer still.  In her composure and wisdom, she possesses an outlook I can only aspire to adopt.  From you, dear Charlotte, I learn and I learn and I learn.   The only person who is educated is the one who has