What is it exactly that I “do”?

Full disclosure- I am double dipping. This is my homework. My assignment-  “A Final Narrative Personal/Professional Identity Paper summarizing how the (Kenwood Narrative Therapy) Certificate Program may have helped you re-author your personal/professional identity.”

6 months ago I signed up for this course because I was bored, fussy, stuck.  I was mostly trying to figure out what to do next.  Today reflecting on the amazing work we’ve done, they gave me more questions than answers. Still bored, fussy and stuck.

Narrative therapy is how I was trained (mostly) and how I practice (mostly).  In short (thanks Wikipedia) The narrative therapist focuses upon narrative in the therapy. The narrative therapist is a collaborator with the client in the process of developing richer (or “thicker”) narratives. In this process, narrative therapists ask questions to generate experientially vivid descriptions of life events that are not currently included in the plot of the problematic story.

Working with people to create richer, healthier stories that resonate with them… I guess that is what I do for a living.

Marriages and parenting that honors who people are, supports them to grow, express, be their best. Marriages come to me bruised or limiting or disrespectful-problematic. Clients come with a story of their marriage that doesn’t feel as good as they know it can be.

Parents want to do better than their parents did. They want to do more than get their kids to be “good”. The old story of parenting is harsh and disrespectful and it doesn’t give people the relationship they know their kids need.

Men come to therapy feeling constricted and isolated by an inherited definition of masculinity, of father, of husband.

Women come to therapy feeling overwhelmed with the emotional and relational responsibility that seems tied to our definition of motherhood and marriage.

Sometimes people come just to have their stories be witnessed, shared. Grief isn’t a problematic story. Learning to let go. Learning to accept.

Therapy itself is an old story. It has some strengths. It is more accepted than ever to see a therapist. We have much better mental health insurance coverage than ever making therapy not just for the middle class. The old story of therapy is a lot like the old story of medicine- going to the “expert” who fixes us.

The new story of therapy is collaborative- co authoring a solution, working together to dig and generate. Try things on, come up with new language. I don’t get to give advice. I don’t get to tell people who to be or how to live. I have more questions than answers.

Oh yeah…that is the narrative thing…more, better, deeper, more meaningful questions. A better class of problems.

I am working on stretching my sense of self as therapist.

I am committed to re-authoring myself as a mother, as a woman, as a feminist, as a therapist, as a wife, as a student.

I am committed to re-authoring the definition of parent, of gender, of activist, of caregiver, of partner, of student.

Therapy is good.  Being a therapist is a blast. The biggest limit to me is in traditional therapy, I sell about 25 hours a week for an amount that insurance says that I am worth. When I sell 30 hours a week I turn into a lame therapist and a super lame family member.

So back to the drawing board. More writing. More blogging. More videos. More workshops and speaking engagements. More, better, deeper, more meaningful questions.  Stay tuned.