Yes, not one but two people this week entered therapy and blurted out, “I don’t believe in therapy, but my spouse made me.” I chuckled. This wasn’t the first time I had heard this, nor probably will it be the last, but this reminded me of me in 1989 when I attended my first counseling session. For me, I went to therapy due to debilitating anxiety and not wanting to take the medication route.

For those of you who do not believe in counseling, I can’t force you or sway your belief, but maybe I can plant some seeds. I think that was what my first counselor did because I did so with one foot out of the door. What I loved about the first session was gaining new knowledge. I remember my therapist asking me, “What was it like growing up in your family?” I told her it was great—that I played Little League baseball, we had a swimming pool, and my parents were great—but when she asked me what it was like growing up with my father, she hit my wound squarely on the head. “Yeah, he was a beast,” and I quote.

I think therapy is great, even for a person who has the perfect life. It provides a sounding board that is neutral; people can air things out, get a different perspective, and process through the stresses at hand. However, for deeper wounds, which were what I experienced in my early life, it showed me how to support my inner child who suffered ongoing abuse, apply love to the wounds that took place, and help him grow. However, this type of work entails experiencing the pain that has been bottled up, sometimes for years. I get it. I didn’t want to go there in therapy—or ever. It happened, and I thought I was over it, but emotional wounds have a bad habit of clinging on and reminding you they are there at the worst possible moments. So, through necessity, I continued to address my pain.

Do we really have to address these types of wounds? Forgive and forget—right? Isn’t that what they tell us? Who told us this anyway? I am sure it wasn’t a therapist. Regardless, they were wrong. When we forgive without processing through an issue, the issue remains. Spiritual Psychology calls moving to forgiveness too soon a spiritual bypass because we are bypassing the healing. To heal a wound, we need to attend to it mentally and emotionally before we go to the spiritual (forgiveness). Mentally—what did we learn? Here is the domain of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). What are our thoughts? What are our resulting behaviors? Did the behaviors work? If not, how can we adjust our thinking and the resulting behaviors until they are successful? On the other hand, emotional healing entails applying love to the younger part of us that went through the problem. There are a few methods that stand out; my favorite is through reparenting exercises, where you become the new mom and dad to your younger self. Often, in emotional work, play is involved. I loved this approach because I loved to have fun, and it was a lot of fun for me hanging out with my younger self—tossing the ball against a wall, climbing trees, and even going bowling, but using my opposite hand.

I learned these techniques in graduate school and was simply transformed. My counselors before this period didn’t have the training that the University of Santa Monica provided. I was admitted into the university to learn how to heal others. I learned quickly that I was there to heal myself, especially the early-stage abuse that I suffered almost daily before I reached the age of five.

For budding counselors, here is my advice: work on healing yourself first so you understand the feelings of the people seeking your counsel. Regardless of whether people believe in therapy or not, we need to be sensitive to their needs. The first rule is to go slow and not push them. Therapy works best when it progresses naturally at its own pace. When you begin treatment, the first step is not filling out the paperwork and getting a history (which is actually step two); the first step is providing people with a safe and caring space. But how is this done?

To provide a safe space, be human. Show the person you care and that you are there to help them. Throw away your agenda and let the person have the space to talk, search their mind, and be silent. You know how uncomfortable it can be when, in a social situation, nobody is talking. What do people do? They fill up that space. So, silence is a great counseling tool. Just shut up, wait about 15 seconds, and if they don’t say anything, then it is your time to make a comment. There aren’t magic words to say. Therapy isn’t one-size-fits-all. Just go with your gut—you will do the right thing.

This is what I love about Spiritual Psychology. Yes, we therapists know many tools, approaches, and skills of the trade, but the question is—what do you use, and when do you use it? The slogan of the university was, “The Father does the work.” When a counselor is centered in their loving heart and really tuned into the client, information from our gut will come forward. Take that information in. Let’s face it—to some level, we all have ESP, or intuition, or whatever you want to call it. With me, it is just a direct knowing. But how? Where is this information coming from? The Father. When I started in the industry, I used to claim it, get a big head, and think I was something extra special in the counseling room. But to be honest, half the time I was clueless, yet I continued to listen to what my heart was saying and just went with it. When I can listen with my heart, care, and know that it is great for a person to get something off their chest, this alone can be all the person really needs.

Yes, as you see, counseling is an art form, and if you seek to understand before being understood, it will go a long way. Let me ask you this—have you ever really listened to another person? I mean, really heard them? Carl Rogers from Person-Centered Therapy was the pro. Not only would he repeat back what he heard them say, but he would also ask them to say more. “I heard you say that your father was very abusive and often locked you outside to sleep the night. Can you tell me more about that experience?” Yes, a difficult example, but not to a therapist. We hear things like this and more—it comes with the territory. People are hurt. Nobody wants to listen, but I sure do. I often ask myself why. Why does their pain matter to me? I guess because of all the pain I released in counseling, and the knowing that it helped me greatly. People remind me of my pain, and I know how important it is to let it go.

To be honest, I went through unthinkable things way too early in life. Did it affect me? Of course it did. It does, and it continues to show up, though with less and less frequency. I thought I would always have to tolerate my anxiety and panic attacks until I learned to apply love to the younger part of me that went through those horrors. Currently, he and I are on excellent terms. In doing this, I am a much better therapist.

Therapists can only help to the extent they have helped themselves. The best therapists are those who have been there, done that, and gotten through it. To be an effective therapist doesn’t mean that you have to have been an addict, abused, or homeless on the street. Just because I have doesn’t mean I am better than others. This isn’t some kind of game to show the horrors of reaching your bottom. The best therapists can simply love the person seated in front of them.

I worked in one of the luxury facilities in Malibu, California, and one of the best therapists I had ever seen was an orderly who kept the facility clean, did cooking every so often, but put himself in the mix during client breaks. He was the first person there when a crisis took place, and all he demonstrated was pure love. He cared deeply, and it showed. He would hold someone’s hand and allow them to cry. He was often seen sitting under a gazebo with someone, smoking a cigarette with them, and allowing them to talk without preaching or telling them what to do. He was a natural, and it showed. No training. He probably didn’t graduate from high school, but it didn’t matter. I have supervised graduate students from the top universities in the Los Angeles area, and they couldn’t hold a candle to him.

The Father does the work through us. If God is love, then the most godly thing we can do is be loving. The university taught me that the first person I needed to be loving to was myself. Once I filled up my tank (so to speak), it was natural for me to send that love to others. How can we give away what we don’t have?

If you choose to be a counselor, self-care is a must. All day long, people vent their anger, anxiety, and hurt—but what do you do with it? If nothing, then it will tear at you. A good therapist is a happy therapist, and you need to nurture yourself. This is why I walk a minimum of an hour each day after work. It helps to listen to some kick-ass audiobooks at the same time. Sometimes I will walk with others, but it can be a distraction when a person wants a free counseling session. I basically need “me time,” where I can unwind and let the events of the day go.

I was the doubting person when I entered treatment. I was scared, hopeless, make-believing that my life as a child was perfect. I am proud of that younger me for hanging in there and going back for more. Therapy was for weak people—or so I thought—but as I continued to go, my personal healing journey unfurled. I didn’t know that therapy was going to lead me to having a working relationship with God throughout the day, but it has, and I love it. I love to remain in the moment because life goes on in the here and now. Roberto Assagioli from Psychosynthesis in the 1910s stated that we were created in the image of God. Since we have that blueprint inside of us, we can tap into it only if we stay in the here and now. Past or future thinking will disrupt this. How often can you remain centered in the now?

Yesterday, one of those doubters showed up for another session. I grinned. Even though he didn’t believe, he was still there. In this session, he suddenly opened up. He told me that he has never talked about anything uncomfortable to anybody and felt that since he was here, why not give it a whirl? Let me ask you, the reader—how wonderful is this? Here is a person who is totally stretching their comfort zone and in the process opening up more and more. I truly felt honored. And therapists, this is how you create that safe space. All I did was remain silent to allow him to talk even more.

What a cool job I have, but it isn’t for everybody. Therapy will test your limits, your emotions, and the way you look at life. We need to stay neutral and resist talking about politics, as that can trigger underlying wounds. Many clients can shift to anger to protect themselves as they address ancient underlying wounds. I make this okay and normalize it. You take the good with the bad, but this isn’t really bad. They are just venting, and often submerged issues can come out with anger, anxiety, or tears. It is all good because this is what they need to do in order to heal. And it is not me doing their work—it is them. And on my side, the Father does the work. Thus is the dynamic of Spiritual Psychology.

I got a video text over the holiday from someone I treated 10 years ago. He plays guitar and played me a Christmas tune as if to thank me for the help. Ten years! That is what I treasure. Who remembers their counselor 10 years later? But he did. To be honest, I didn’t heal him—he did. I can educate, support, and share knowledge, but ultimately all I can do is share my love, which, to me, is the number-one healing tool in therapy. These new people, full of doubts, can have a great life ahead of them if they continue to show up, learn, be loved, and eventually love themselves.