Deviations

I went to Loudun today.  It was supposed to be a simple journey on a road that any Roman would have been proud of - arrow straight, and never mind the hills that got in the way. 

Unfortunately, somebody definitely anti-Roman has installed an un-Roman roundabout just on the outskirts of the town, and the un-Roman roundabout was in urgent need of repair.  So I met a yellow sign that said 'Deviation' in black letters.

Any self-respecting Roman would, of course, have laughed heartily and stepped over it.  Unfortunately, it's obligatory to follow a sign that says 'Deviation' if you happen not be to a Roman and are driving a car. 

This particular deviation took me down a long, narrow, winding road to a crossroads.  There was no sign there to tell me which way to go.  I took a chance and turned right - which happened to be the right decision.  So I arrived - by chance, and with luck, where I wanted to go.

That was on the way there.

On the way back, I got hopelessly lost.  I followed the first sign that said 'Deviation', and travelled through an endless, green, signpostless landscape for 20 minutes until I finally saw a very small signpost that said 'Sammerçolles'.  I don't know 'Sammerçolles' - but I do know that the village abuts the main road, and that the main road would take me to where I needed to go.  And eventually I got where I needed to go.  But it took me longer than it should have.

Life is full of 'deviations' - but it isn't obligatory to follow them.  And it will take a whole lot longer for you to get where you want to go if you do follow them.  And getting there at all will depend on whether or not  you see a signpost to some kind of 'Sammerçolles' somewhere along the way - and it's by no means certain that you will.

If you keep you eye on where you want to go, and what you want to achieve when you get there, you can avoid deviations.  Or - like a Roman - you can step over them. 

Emily - http://www.therapypartnership.com/

What's Good to Know?

Years ago I watched a programme about gardening.  Actually, it wasn't quite about gardening. It was about plants and whether they were able to think and feel what we call 'emotion'.

The plants were in a greenhouse, and hooked up, of course, to various monitors that would register their reactions.

As part of the experiment someone walked into the greenhouse and burned one of the plants with a lighted cigarette.

Plants can't move, but afterwards whenever that same person entered the greenhouse, the monitors showed that all of them really did do their best to move and to get away.  They did that because they were frightened that something that they didn't understand was going to hurt them as it had already hurt someone just like them.

The experiment taught the experimenters a lot about plants, and how they relate to each other.  It taught me that there are some things that are best not known.

Currently, the fashion is that one should read and understand everything about whatever illness one is suffering from - and many therapists recommend that their clients read books and try to learn about their 'disease'.  I'm not sure that's always a good idea, and I rarely recommend it myself. 

Some things are best not known, because if they are not known they cannot be imagined, and if they cannot be imagined, they cannot be destructive.

There are some things that it isn't good to know too much about.

Emily - http://www.therapypartnership.com/

Among Those Dark Satanic Mills - And Everywhere Else

Those of England's athletes who are taking part in this years's Commonwealth Games in Delhi chose 'Jerusalem' as the team anthem.

We were delighted. 'Jerusalem' - like the 'Marseillaise!' - is one of those pieces of music that seems to belong to everybody.

The Marseillaise is, of course, very militaristic, but William Blake's constructive and hopeful poem speaks of a Jerusalem of the mind, a place of peace and love that could be anywhere - and never mind that Blake happened to visualise it in 'England's pleasant pastures' and among England's 'dark satanic mills', or that his outlook was (unsurprisingly for those days) that of a Christian man.

Blake's poem is based on what may, or may not, be the myth that, as a young man, Jesus accompanied his Uncle Joseph of Arimathea on a voyage to England, and visited Glastonbury - and hence 'And did those feet in ancient time walk upon England's mountain green?'

It really doesn't matter whether the myth is a myth or the truth. Jesus is a Messiah to some people and a Prophet to a lot of other people - and whilst that difference does matter a great deal to some people, what matters most is that most people agree that he was an extraordinary individual and worth listening to.

And what matters most to us here is that England's athletes chose a piece of music that belongs to everyone and is hopeful and constructive.

'Jerusalem' is a metaphor for a place of peace and love.  Building a new Jerusalem that isn't a place, but a state of mind, is no small ambition.

Aux armes, citoyens,

Formez vos bataillions,

Marchons, marchons!

But don't bring a gun.

Bill

Something is Always Greasy in the Kitchen

It can take a very long time to thoroughly clean a proper working kitchen, the heart of the house.

And when you get done - even if you've taken off every door, and cleaned every hinge, and moved every possible thing out of every possible space, and swept and polished all the nooks and crannies, and painted everything that isn't moving - you can still pick up something very small, and find that it's greasy.

The something small is usually something very useful, something that you use all the time - a herb or a spice - and whatever is inside that greasy little jar is just as useful and beautiful as it ever was, and never mind the state of the outside of the jar.

Nobody is perfect. No matter how hard we work on ourselves, we all have two or three greasy jars tucked away somewhere. And usually there's something useful and beautiful somewhere inside them.

Emily - http://www.therapypartnership.com

You don't need to care about the white horse

WARNING: This article contains material which could drive you nuts.

Okay not at first sight the politically correct expression expected from sensitive, right-on therapists such as Emily and myself.

But in this case fully justified.

For what we’re about to consider is a worldwide virus deliberately, cynically and yeah, even callously spread among humanity.

And while this article runs the risk of further spreading the virus, it also contains the antidote which could benefit millions.

Therefore read on … but with care.

The virus currently concerning us is a mental virus about which you may already be aware.

Until a few days ago I had never heard of The Game. Maybe that’s a generation thing, part of officially becoming an old fart. Maybe I should get out more.

The Game’s existence was disclosed to me by a potential client who came for a free consultation and admitted among his problems was being infected by The Game

By this point some of you are roundly possibly furiously cursing me before openly proclaiming: “I lost The Game!”

For those unware of The Game, its purpose is to forget about The Game, to avoid thinking about The Game. Thinking about The Game means you’ve lost … and you must announce it. That’s it.

Those playing The Game understand in its most simple form it has just three rules.

= Rule One – Everyone who knows about The Game is playing The Game.

= Rule Two – Each time you think about The Game you’ve lost.

= Rule Three – When you lose you must announce this to at least one other person.

As a consequence people across the Globe, maybe walking down the street, travelling on buses, sitting in offices, whatever, can suddenly declare, “I lost The Game.” Then anyone within earshot also playing The Game has also lost.

Insidious? Damned right.

Mentally destabilising? Potentially if, as for some, it becomes obsessive.

Downright daft? Too bloody true.

Am I playing The Game? Not on your nelly!

So why mention it? Two reasons.

First to provide the way anyone infected with this mental virus can decontaminate themselves.

Second, to explain how The Game was used to help a client dealing with a relationship problem.

The mental virus which spreads The Game is based on what’s known as ironic processing. That’s a posh way of describing how, if you deliberately try to suppress a thought, you actually highlight it. For example, for the next few seconds try really, really hard NOT TO THINK ABOUT A WHITE HORSE.

It might have been more appropriate to have invited you not to think about a white bear; that what psychologist Daniel Wegner used during “thought suppression” experiments from which he coined the term ironic processing.

What relevance is this to decontaminating those infected with The Game mental virus? Well by giving it a mental two finger salute. By realising you are not accepting Rule One, or Rule Two or Rule Three.

I know about The Game but am not playing. I do not feel I have “lost” when I remember The Game nor am I going to make any utterances.

My client with a relationship problem had been troubled by obsessive thoughts which, at an intellectual level, she recognised were irrational. But still they persisted, causing her pain and anxiety.

She needed some way of adding emotional understanding to intellectual understanding. To find a way of understanding she could think about things without always caring or being concerned about them.

She also had not previously heard about The Game but on learning about it had no intention of playing. She understood other people played, some might even be obsessed, but she did not care. She realised she had no need to care … and began to see the solution to her own obsession.