A safe place.

On getting back to counselling work after a longish break, I often find myself wondering if i've lost out on something significant in the past two years while my peers marched right ahead. I think of all the training opportunities i've lost out on, the client's i could've seen, the very interesting 'talks' i missed - maybe world famous psychologists were right at my doorstep, lecturing on the greatest secrets of counselling practice while i was trying to nap between two nursing sessions.

And then a couple of weeks back, a client whom i will call 'A' walked in for a session. I was probably as nervous as he was, trying to think back to my days of training, the copious notes I had taken in class and the precious feedback from my trainers on 'how to be a more effective counsellor'. 

I'm probably a very good actor, because he suspected nothing. In fact, it almost seemed like he hardly noticed i was there. He spoke for a long time about his situation and I stayed in the moment with him as much as i could. I felt myself being drawn into the story and as it sometimes happens in counselling (but perhaps should not), i thought of the times i had felt a similar way.

And so it happened that we met for a few more sessions and while i did my homework, improvised and did the best i could, i realised something really significant. I realised that he was healing - not because of a new technique i was trying with him, a fabulous creative tool i had used, or because of my grand theories of his situation.

He was healing because he was in a space where he felt safe, safe enough to say all that he wanted to, safe enough to change his mind as often as he wished, safe enough to be silent for a while. I could do that much. Of course, i have a lot of catching up to do, but i can make space for my clients. I can make a safe place. And I can be there with them when they need me. 

I can do THAT much. And maybe, just maybe, for 'A' that's made a world of difference.