Creatures of a Day: And Other Tales of Psychotherapy

Because we may never know with precision how we have helped, we therapists have to learn to live comfortably with mystery as we accompany patients on their journey of self-discovery.

As Nietzsche said, “If we have our own ‘why’ of life, we shall get along with any ‘how.’”

The most important thing I, or any other therapist, can do is offer an authentic healing relationship from which patients can draw whatever they need.

We delude ourselves if we think that some specified action, be it an interpretation, suggestion, relabeling, or reassurance, is the healing factor.

“I’ve read a lot of philosophy in the past, but I now realize that I’ve always read for the wrong reasons. I read because of vanity. I read for the sake of being able to demonstrate my knowledge to others. This,” Andrew held up his copy of The Meditations, “is the first authentic experience I’ve ever had with philosophy, my first realization that these wise old guys really had something important to say about life, about my life at this moment.”

My question is: What does it mean that you don’t know what you want for yourself?

Other people, even others who also have cancer, tell me “You’re going to live 30 years.” They tell themselves, “I’m not going to die of this.” Even Nancy in my support group, so wise and clear-sighted, e-mailed yesterday “All we can hope for is to hang on long enough until better treatments are developed.”
But this isn’t what I want to hear. This is a safety net with an enormous hole right in the middle. Whether I will live a long time or a short time, I’m alive now, at this moment. What I want is to know that there are other things to hope for besides length of life. What I want to know is that it isn’t necessary to turn away from thoughts of suffering or death but neither is it necessary to give these thoughts too much time and space. What I want is to be intimate with the knowledge that life is temporary. And then, in the light (or shadow) of that knowledge, to know how to live. How to live now. Here’s the thing I’ve learned about cancer—it shows you mortal illness and then spits you back, back to the world, to your life, to all its pleasure and sweetness, which you feel now so much more than ever. And you know that something has been given and something has been taken away.

I do my best thinking on my bicycle

some people are too prying. I think they are voyeuristic and attempt to satisfy their morbid curiosity about having cancer. I don’t like that and have sometimes wanted to say, “Go get your own damn fatal illness.”

I always think therapy is working well when patients take risks each session