Going Face-to-Face

This morning, after 14 months of working virtually, I met a client and we worked face-to-face.  I had made Covid-safe considerations, we sat 2 meters apart and the furniture was sanitised, we used hand sanitiser and wore masks until we were seated.  Then we could be us, two humans, sharing a space, and working to connect.  I have missed the ritual of readying the room for my clients.

 For me, counselling is ALL about the connections; me trying to get alongside and to really understand my clients by listening deeply and by making the space as safe as I can; my clients working hard to elucidate and excavate their emotions.  Us both holding up each experience, feeling, and event, and examining it in all its glory and ugliness, the comfort and sheer discomfort.  We share it.

 During lockdown it has also been about another type of connection.  When technology failed it caused a real rupture in the moment, and it fell to me as the counsellor to work quickly to repair the rupture to the best of my ability.  The frustration I have felt when my internet has dropped out at exactly the wrong moment has been immense, and then to know that it is my responsibility to ‘right the bike and start pedalling again’, has sometimes felt very heavy indeed.  That is what we are trained for, being able to hold that space and keep it safe and sacred, despite the storm that rages around, and sometimes within, our clients.  

Working virtually has definitely had its positives though; for clients who wish to retain a sense of anonymity, it has been a soothing balm against a gaze, for those who are time poor, it has saved journey time, for those who value the sanctuary of their own space, it has provided just that.  As a counsellor it has offered me opportunities to work with clients all over the United Kingdom.  Telephone counselling also gives new meaning to working phenomenologically, that is “intense concern about the way the world appears to the person experiencing the world” (Moran, 2000), as I am literally relying on the words of my clients.

 Face to face counselling allows for us to inhabit the same space for the therapeutic hour, lockdown has proven that that space, if agreeable to my clients, need not have physical boundaries.  It has allowed us to expand our horizons, and for clients to have more choice in how they would like to work.  I have developed rituals for virtual working, my clients won’t know, but there is always a scented candle burning, I spend time adjusting lighting and making things ‘just so’,  and I sometimes wear slippers!

A counsellor is like a walking shoe?

Today has been the first morning that I could devote exclusively to Your Time since the beginning of lockdown back in March. Whilst I continued to offer online and telephone counselling, I just didn't have the time or headspace to think creatively. I have sorely missed it! 

Walking has always been my sanctuary and my way of fitting the jigsaw pieces back together again.  Without sounding too 'Wuthering Heights', I am in love with the smell of the earth, the feel of the wind on my face, and the call of the red kites wheeling above. It's my thing.  I have even completed two ultra-walking marathons. This morning was particularly spectacular, it takes my breath away to observe the change of seasons.  I used to dread autumn and winter, thinking only of the darkness and death of summer, but now I celebrate the colours, rejoicing in crisp morning walks, taking time to notice what is new and different.  I am glad to be alive to bear witness.  I’m still not too keen on evening walks, but the chance of watching barn owls over the nearby fields is enough to get me motivated and out.  That and our large golden retriever…

For me, there are parallels between walking and counselling; The journey to change is not necessarily easily won, sometimes the changes are slow to appear, like walking over a freshly ploughed field, you may get bogged down for a time in what has been.   Sometimes the beginning of change can be anxiety provoking and the ‘newness’ may feel unwelcome after what has come before.  On other walks you may rush to the end and miss the small things which might point to another way, another direction.  However, if you keep on your journey, and allow it to unfurl, taking time to notice what the path looks and feels like; that change can become a reason to rejoice and a place of psychological freedom.  In my opinion counselling and walking are best undertaken one step at a time, in the direction of your choosing.  Maybe a counsellor is like a good, honest, walking shoe?  Providing consistent support and grip in sometimes tough terrain, and being with you through the mud, rain, sunshine and showers, and whatever else your journey takes you through.  Bearing witness to your travels, and, when your walk is done, you can take them off and put them away until you have need of them again.

BOUNDARIES

I have been thinking long and hard about boundaries this past month.  As I negotiate my way as an individual and as a counsellor in private practice there is much to consider.  Sometimes, people will ask what the difference between counselling and ‘having a chat with a good friend’ is, I find that a discussion on boundaries helps to clarify an element of what makes a counselling relationship special and therapeutic.

Boundaries are important because they help us to set out what we will, and wont, tolerate.  They let people know where they are welcome.  The issue with boundaries is that sometimes we have too many, they sometimes aren’t in helpful places, and sometimes they aren’t there at all!

As a counsellor my duty to my client is to maintain strong, supportive and (I believe), reflexive boundaries.  By that I mean I respond to my client in the moment – if they ask for and require a reassuring touch then, in that moment, and as a human being, I respond.  It is particularly important as a person-centred counsellor that my inner world does not take the lead role in a counselling relationship.  As a trainee I struggled to understand what would be left of ‘me’ if all that was ‘me’ was kept from the room.  I now know that I can absolutely be present in all of my personal uniqueness, and that that my ability to be genuine and honest is the cement between the bricks of my boundaries.  If you tell me something sad, I feel it.  I am just able to recognise the sad event and trauma as belonging to you and not to me, therefore I can allow you the centre stage that you need and deserve to work through your issues.  

There is no agenda with person-centred counselling, I am not waiting for my turn to tell you about ‘that time something happened to me’, I am just allowing you to unfold and re-establish links with yourself – away from the day-to-day rigidity and structuredness of life.  

Part of the joy in counselling is that for those 50 minutes with my clients I am SO me!  My job is to leave my various other roles at the door; wife, mother, daughter, friend, colleague, and all of the other hats that I wear are cast aside.  It took courage, three years of training and personal therapy, to be comfortable in that position.  I believe if I want clients to be able to shed their masks and roles, and really get in touch with themselves in all of their messiness and uniqueness, then I need to be able to do that for myself.  I also want to convey to clients that it is okay to be you.  You are enough.

Boundaries can be great, sometimes you just need the time and space to notice them and consider how helpful they are in your life now.   Recovery comes through peaking over, tearing down, moving, or re-establishing boundaries, but you have to notice them first.

‘Healing doesn’t come through denial or avoidance.  It doesn’t come through wearing a brave smile, and pretending nothing happened…Healing comes through embracing the truth.’ (Spring, C. 2020)

Copywrite ©2020 Emma Bailey