Tag Archives: empathy

Creative and novel approaches to empathy

By Ed Neukrug February 2, 2017

Near the end of Carl Rogers’ life, he wrote a scathing article noting that his conceptualization of empathy had little to do with the popularized notion of empathy that had become known as “reflection of feelings.” He may have been particularly angry because there were some apocryphal stories circulating about Rogers’ work with clients. One of them goes something like this:

Rogers is seeing a client in his office on the 10th floor of a building. The client tells Rogers that he is really depressed, and Rogers says, “Sounds like you’re really depressed.” The client goes on to say that he is thinking of killing himself, and Rogers responds, “You’re so depressed that you’re even thinking you might take your life.” This “reflection” goes on and on for quite a while until the client eventually declares, “I’m so depressed I’m thinking I might jump out of that window.” Rogers again reflects back, almost verbatim, what the client just said, at which point the client goes over to the window, opens it and says, “I’m so depressed, I’m going to jump out of this window.” Rogers says, “You’re so depressed you might jump out of that window.” Exasperated, the client stands on the ledge, and the last thing out of his mouth as he jumps is, “Ahhhhhh!” Rogers, left in the office alone, repeats, “Ahhhhhh.”

You can understand why Carl Rogers, the person who popularized empathy in the 20th century, was pretty upset by this distorted image of his work. In fact, his actual definition of empathy was much more nuanced than “reflection of feelings.” Rogers suggested that empathy is the ability to understand another person’s experience in the world, as if you were that person, without ever losing the “as if” sense. He also noted that empathy entails letting the person know that you understand his or her experience. However, he never suggested that one should rely solely on reflection of feelings to show this understanding. In fact, he implied there were many ways to show your clients that you have understood them.

The five levels of responding

During the 1960s and 1970s, microcounseling skills were popularized. Although these preprogrammed methods of teaching basic counseling skills were pretty effective, they reinforced the notion that counselors should mostly reflect back feelings and content to be empathic. Models developed by such well-known authors as Gerard Egan, Allen Ivey and Robert Carkhuff flourished at this time, and their work, and similar work by others, continues to dominate the ways that counselor trainees learn basic counseling skills.

The downside of these models was that many counselors grew to believe, and continue to believe, that empathy and reflection of feelings are pretty much synonymous. The upside was that counselors could learn this one form of empathic responding pretty quickly. Because empathy has been shown to be related to positive client outcomes, and because students can learn how to be empathic (or at least good at demonstrating this one type of empathy) in a relatively short amount of time, counselor educators have been generally satisfied to continue using these approaches.

All of the microcounseling skills models were pretty similar, but I was always partial to Carkhuff’s model because he suggested there were five levels of responding. Level 1 is when the counselor is simply horrible, reflects little if any of the feelings and content, and may even be critical of the client. Level 2 is when the counselor misses the mark by using a feeling that is not quite on target (e.g., saying “You feel upset” when “You feel depressed” would be more accurate) or uses content that does not quite capture the meaning of what the client said. Level 3 is when the counselor is on target, reflecting back feelings and content that capture exactly what the client was saying.

Level 4 is when the counselor “subceives” feelings just below what the client was outwardly expressing and accurately reflects those feelings back to the client. For example, “So, I’m sensing that in addition to your anger, you feel pretty hurt …”

Level 4 responses can also demonstrate complex and critical thinking that helps the client gain awareness about his or her life: “It seems like every time you get close to someone, you get scared — similar to how you felt when you were rejected by your parents.” These responses reflect understanding, not a “guess” or an interpretation.

Another Level 4 response is when the counselor reflects back a dilemma that the client may be experiencing but is not seeing directly. For instance, “So on one hand, I hear your deep attraction to this person in your office, but on the other hand, I also hear your ongoing love for your spouse.”

Level 4 responses are like icing on the cake — bringing more depth and clarity to the client’s experience — but they are not essential. In fact, I usually tell beginning counselors to shoot for Level 3 responses, and if a Level 4 response happens to pop into their consciousness, then go for it.

Level 5 responses occur when the counselor is “with” the client in his or her deepest moments of pain and demonstrates this in some way with the client. These are relatively rare responses, usually made in long-term counseling relationships, so I won’t go into depth about them in this article.

Because microcounseling skills models train students effectively and quickly at making basic empathic responses, they have become the gold standard in the field. However, they lack the nuance and complexity that can be offered by creative and novel empathic responses. Rogers alluded to this complexity and creativity when he said, “Gradually my understanding of empathy extended to an intuitive capacity for empathy, where I would find something rising in myself that wanted to be said. It might be bizarre. It might be out of context. But I found that if I voiced it, it often rang a real bell with the person and opened up all kinds of areas that had been dimly sensed by the client but not really experienced.”

Ten creative and novel empathic responses

Enamored of this definition of empathy from Rogers, and personally being a little burned out by the reflection of feelings formula, I began to look at other ways to operationalize empathy. I eventually came up with 10 empathic responses that I call creative and novel empathy.

1) Reflecting nonverbal behaviors: The most basic of the advanced responses, most counselors likely have already made such empathic rejoinders simply by acknowledging a client’s nonverbal behaviors. The following is a brief example of such a response:

Client: I’m not even sure where to begin today. So much has been going on.

Counselor: Well, just looking at your nonverbal behaviors, I can see that you have probably gone through a lot this past week. Your slouching body just looks depressed, and I can see you’re on the verge of tears.

Such basic but important responses acknowledge, through reflection of body language, what the client is saying and cuts through the verbal jargon about the client’s feeling state.

2) Reflecting deeper feelings: This type of advanced empathic response is similar to Carkhuff’s understanding of a Level 4 response, when the counselor is subceiving feelings beyond what the client is outwardly saying. It is important to note that these are not interpretive responses in which the counselor is hypothesizing about what the client is feeling. These responses are when the counselor actually experiences a feeling of which the client is unaware that resides just below the surface. For example:

Client: I’m at my wits’ end. I’m so frustrated with my spouse. No matter what I do, nothing seems to work. I keep offering new ways to try and work things out, but he doesn’t seem to care. I feel like throwing something at him.

Counselor: Your frustration really shows. You’ve tried so many different things, yet nothing seems to work. But most of all, I think I hear the sadness in your voice — sadness about the lack of connection that you feel with your husband.

In the example, look at how the counselor first reflects the frustration the client is clearly feeling, but then moves on to reflect sadness. Not outwardly stated by the client, this sadness was subceived by the counselor. If the counselor is on target, the client will respond accordingly.

3) Pointing out conflictual feelings and thoughts: Also an outgrowth from the Carkhuff model, this response enlightens the client’s understanding of self by pointing out different and conflicting parts of self with which the client is struggling. These contradictory parts of self are often responsible for a client feeling stuck in life. It is only through awareness of these conflicting parts of self that one can make smart choices about how to move forward in life. For instance:

Client: You know, I love my wife so much that the thought of being without her is incredibly painful. She is my rock and makes my life so much easier.

Ten minutes later

Client: I went out to lunch with my co-worker the other day, and I know she was flirting with me. When I’m around her, I feel lifted out of my depression. I so wish that I had someone like her in my life, and I’m even thinking I could have an affair with her.

Counselor: I’m hearing two parts of you. One that feels as if your spouse is your bedrock — a person who keeps you grounded — and another that wishes there were more excitement and vibrancy in your life.

All of us have feelings and thoughts that conflict with one another, and counselors can highlight these conflicts. Once these dilemmas are faced squarely, they can be understood more fully. Otherwise, individuals go through life bouncing from one conflicting thought or feeling to another, and they have a difficult time making sense of it all. Imagine what the conversation might be like if the client in the example talked about his or her conflicting feelings.

4) Using visual imagery: Using visual imagery reaches a client through different neural pathways than does traditional talk therapy. For instance, imagine working with a client who has been so bullied by friends and family that the client has considered suicide. As you sit with your client, an image floats into your consciousness that you share with your client.

Counselor: You know, as you’re telling me about your situation, I imagine you lying on the ground, surrounded by friends and family as they hover over you and barrage you with negative statements. You feel like you can’t move. You’re looking for an escape route, but none comes to mind.

Powerful images such as this show the client that you understand the gravity of his or her situation. They also help the client understand the intensity of the situation in a new and dramatic manner, potentially leading to the client generating ways of freeing himself or herself from the situation.

Another visual image was used with me. I was depressed and kept trying different change strategies, but nothing seemed to work. My therapist looked at me and said, “Sounds like you’re rearranging chairs on the Titanic.” On the surface this may seem like a pretty dismal state of affairs, but at least in my situation, it gave me hope. I knew that I had to get off this ship. And, indeed, it led me to make significant changes in my life.

5) Using analogies: Like visual images, analogies reach clients through different neural pathways than those used with basic reflections. Analogies use a logical analysis to compare a person’s situation to another situation that has a similar theme but different content. This allows the client to see the situation from a slightly removed and alternative position — a perspective that is sometimes more palatable for the client. For instance:

Client: I work in this huge office, and every day I go in and sit in my cubicle. There are literally dozens of people around me, and yet I feel like I’m alone. It’s almost more depressing than actually being by myself — all of these people around me and no one acknowledging, talking with or interacting with me. Sometimes I get so low, I just want to kill myself right there in my cubicle, but no one would probably even notice.

Counselor: It’s kind of like you’re an ant in an ant colony. All the ants are busy, busy, busy, and they don’t see you, hear you or touch you. You could just disappear, right there, and none of the rest of the colony would know you’re gone.

In the example, the counselor builds an image that can be related to the client’s situation but is clearly different visually. This allows the counselor to use different words than the client has used and also allows different channels of understanding.

6) Using metaphors: As with the use of visual images and analogies, metaphors also allow clients to receive information in a different form than the typical reflections used in traditional talk therapy. In this case, however, the counselor uses a figure of speech that is symbolic or representative of the client’s situation.

Client: Things have been going so well for me. Since I’ve been coming here, I just feel like everything has changed. I’m happier, I’m more in touch with myself and, best of all, I have met all these new people and have had all these new experiences. I am just flying.

Counselor: You certainly found the light and now seem to have an infinite spectrum of possibilities.

Here we see the counselor using a figure of speech (rather than a logical comparison as in analogies) to make a comparison between the client’s situation and the counselor’s response. This allows the counselor to reflect back a meaningful understanding of the client’s situation without having to use the client’s same words. It also reaches the client at a deeper level.

Here is another use of metaphor:

Client: I have been so busy lately that I can hardly keep track of what I’m doing. It’s a great relief in some ways because I don’t think about my problems and I kind of feel refreshed — like nothing is sticking to me. I mean, the usual problems I deal with don’t seem to take hold. I kind of like it.

Counselor: That makes me think about that old saying, “A rolling stone gathers no moss.”

Again we see a figure of speech being used to make a comparison between the client’s situation and the counselor’s response. This particular response is short and to the point and allows the client simply to think about what is going on in his or her life.

7) Using targeted self-disclosure: Revealing an aspect of self that parallels what the client is experiencing can be an important way to demonstrate understanding. In addition, clients will sometimes assume that if their counselor was able to overcome a struggle similar to theirs, then they can also be successful. One type of self-disclosure includes the counselor revealing feelings in the moment. Often called immediacy, this response demonstrates understanding of the client’s feelings and also models how the client can share his or her innermost thoughts and feelings with someone close.

Client: I’m at my wits’ end. I’m as depressed as ever. I keep trying to change my life, but nothing works. I try communicating better, I change my job, I change my looks … I even take antidepressants, but nothing helps.

Counselor: As you talk, I feel sad and anxious. Sad, because I can tell how hard this is for you, and anxious, because I feel the frustration of nothing working.

Content self-disclosure, on the other hand, reveals an event about a counselor’s life that mimics the client’s experience. This type of response shows the client that you understand him or her and that such struggles can be overcome.

Client: I’m at my wits’ end. I’m as depressed as ever. I keep trying to change my life, but nothing works. I try communicating better, I change my job, I change my looks … I even take antidepressants, but nothing helps.

Counselor: You know, there was a time in my life when I really struggled. I remember how difficult it was for me to get through that time.

Here, the revelation about the counselor’s life demonstrates that the counselor understands the client’s struggles. Notice the nonspecifics of this response. The counselor clearly does not want to reveal too much about his or her life. Targeted self-disclosure should be done carefully and used only to show a client that he or she is being heard, not because the counselor gets something out of self-disclosing. I often say that if it feels good to self-disclose, then you are probably doing so for your own benefit.

8) Reflecting media: Sometimes a client’s situation might remind the counselor of a particular movie, book or popular story. To show the client that the counselor recognizes his or her situation, the counselor references the media. For example:

Client: I had everything. I just bought a new home, was about to go into business for myself and simply had a wonderful life. Then the tornado took it all away.

Counselor: What you have gone through reminds me of the book The Old Man and the Sea. After catching the fish of his life that will lift the man out of poverty, he ties it to his boat, but sharks attack it, and the man’s treasure is lost.

Here’s another example:

Client: I’m going to avenge my brother’s attackers. I will do whatever I can to make sure they are caught and brought to justice.

Counselor: You remind me of Luke Skywalker, ready to take on injustice.

These responses can sometimes lead to more involved discussions about the characters, and analogies can then be made to the client’s life. For instance, The Old Man and the Sea ends with the defeated and worn-out fisherman saying that he promises to fish again with a young boy who has taken him on as a father figure. This story can provide hope to the client who has lost everything in the tornado.

9) Reflecting tactile responses: Using the counselor’s own physical reactions to the client’s disclosures can also demonstrate empathy. Here, the counselor closely monitors his or her bodily sensations and reflects those to the client in an attempt to mirror the client’s own experience.

Client: Anytime I’m around my partner, he harasses me with negative statements. I try my best to be what he wants me to be but just can’t live up to his expectations. Even when I think I’m doing what he wants me to do, it’s not good enough. I’m lost.

Counselor: When you just told me what you’re going through, I felt a gripping bite in my jaw and my stomach twist and turn. I imagine this is how you must be feeling.

Acknowledging a client’s physical state can assure the client that you understand the gravity of the situation. However, such responses are not limited to sad or negative emotions.

Client: I went into work today and, out of the blue, my boss came up to me, told me what a great job I was doing and said she was recommending me for a raise. I was elated!

Counselor: I just felt this chill go through my body when you told me about your experience with your boss. I know how difficult your work situation has been, and your boss’s feedback must have been an incredible high.

10) Using discursive responses: Based in narrative therapy, discursive empathy assumes that part of the client’s experience is based on older, historical and, possibly, cultural narratives. Clearly, one has to possess knowledge of the client’s old narratives, historical roots and cultural experiences.

For example, when conducting a workshop on empathy, I role-played a real situation in my life about having had cancer. I noted that I wished I had been “stronger” when facing my potential death. Asking for workshop participants to respond empathically to me, one said something akin to this: “The pain you felt in facing death seems like it may be related to a broader, more historical event in your life.”

Being Jewish, I immediately thought of the Holocaust and the kinds of messages I received growing up. I realized that “death” was something that was pervasive in my life as a child, and it continued to have an impact on me as an adult. I began to sob, realizing that my death was more than the death of my “self” — it also included the death of a people. It turns out that the person who made the response was the child of Holocaust survivors and saw in me some themes she had experienced. It was quite a powerful response.

Here is another example of discursive empathy:

Client: You know, I feel like wherever I go, I’m treated as a second-class citizen and I don’t get the same opportunities that Whites get.

Counselor: I wonder if I’m hearing how pervasive racism has been in your life as you were growing up — and even today — and how it has impacted your view of the world in such an important way.

Of all the responses I have introduced in this article, discursive empathy has the most potential for abuse because it makes assumptions about a client’s past. Thus, it should be used only if the counselor has a good feel for and understanding of the client’s historical themes.

Final thoughts

Creative and novel empathic responses can bring new energy to sessions as they help clients understand their situations through new modalities and in different ways. However, I always caution that these responses should be made spontaneously, as opposed to trying to manufacture them in the moment. My experience has been that when one becomes expert at basic empathy (e.g., Level 3 empathy on the Carkhuff scale) and has some understanding of creative and novel approaches, then these advanced responses will become a natural part of the counselor’s repertoire.

For those readers who regularly use such responses, you know how fulfilling they can be, both to the client and the counselor. For those who are new to such responses, it is akin to having an “aha” experience. When you offer these empathic responses, you know that you have given your clients a new way to look at their experiences and have likely broadened their depth of knowledge about self.

 

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Knowledge Share articles are developed from sessions presented at American Counseling Association conferences.

Ed Neukrug is professor of counseling at Old Dominion University. A well-known author of 10 books in counseling and human services, he has worked in a variety of settings, including agencies, schools and private practice, and has been active in numerous professional associations over the years. He maintains a variety of open access websites, including one in which visitors can assess their theoretical orientations, another that features oral stories about famous therapists and a third that features animations of famous therapists discussing their theories (see odu.edu/~eneukrug). Contact him at eneukrug@odu.edu.

Letters to the editor: ct@counseling.org

 

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

Why you should incorporate volunteering into your training: A student’s perspective

By Eleanor Rector October 17, 2016

You’re about to start a graduate counseling program. You’ve likely traveled to a new place, so you’re trying to adjust and find a new go-to burger joint. You have your priorities straight.

The last thing you want to do is research places to start volunteering. Besides, you’re already training for a career in which the focal point is helping people. Do you really need to go out of your way to do more? Sure, volunteering sounds good, and you would like to do it, but you’ve worked so hard to get here, and you don’t really have the drive to begin something that won’t further your career.

I have been there. You’re talking to a professional promise-maker here. I’ve organized groups to bring food and hygiene products to homeless individuals, but I’ve also made a thousand promises to myself or to other groups with good missions to volunteer, and when the time came, there was always a great excuse not to follow through. Maybe my cat was being extra cute, or my murder mystery suddenly took an interesting turn.

Whatever the excuse is, it seems important at the time. Besides, I tell myself, if I’m not there to help, someone else will take my place. And sometimes the amount of hurt in the world feels like photo-1469398718052-b9d13df0d7c9too much for me to bear. And I wonder, even if I am there to help, will it really make any difference?

Fortunately, I attend a university that removes the hard part from the equation. At Adler University, volunteering in your first year is a mandatory part of every program. Students fill out a form about their experiences, strengths and interests. Then, in a process I have been promised is not random, they are assigned volunteer positions in underserved communities.

Some individuals are placed in nonprofit organizations they find interesting; others remain confused about their placement throughout the experience. I have watched one particular thing happen across the board, however. Those individuals who complete their volunteer hours with as little effort as possible don’t really gain much from the experience. On the other hand, those who complete their placements by really getting involved and being passionate about serving the underserved ultimately grow immensely.

This experience is so pedestrian that a saying developed around it: “You get out of it what you put into it.” However, clinicians, and especially those of us studying to become clinicians, may not understand how vital this volunteer experience is to our clinical practice. If we are to be guided by the ethical principle of beneficence, then we must do more than simply our jobs to help our communities and the individuals within them.

We must find ways to integrate our pledge to help the community into our everyday lives. Otherwise, we are following only the principle of nonmalfeasance. That is an essential principle, but simply doing no harm is not enough. Doing actual good reaches much further.

Yes, we are “doing good” when we are effective and ethical practitioners. But at the same time, we are simply doing our job well. To fulfill the principle of beneficence, we must go beyond the minimum of being effective clinicians and do good that effects change outside of our own personal spheres. Involving ourselves in our communities, in whatever way one chooses, will also benefit our practices immensely and allow us to be much more effective clinicians.

 

Acknowledging privilege

This, of course, requires a brief discussion on privilege. Luckily, the program at my university that organizes this volunteer placement to underserved populations also provides training sessions that help students understand the oppressive systems at work in the world, specifically inside the United States, and confront the privilege that we all possess.

This is incredibly helpful because acknowledging our own privilege is uncomfortable for many of us. All of us have faced struggles in one form or another throughout our lives. Some of us may not feel that we possess privilege in many respects. And this may be true, because privilege comes in multitudinous forms. But no matter the lack of Master Statuses we may possess, being able to afford (or even have the good standing to take out loans) to go to graduate school and become a counselor is a privilege in its own right.

Many people are afraid of acknowledging their privilege because they think that having privilege is a shameful thing. That’s a logical, although untrue, line of thought. There is often unnecessary guilt inherent in being born with privilege because we live in a world that works to keep the privileged on top while oppressing the underserved.

I am a Caucasian woman. So, even though I am a woman, I still carry the Master Status of “whiteness.” No matter what I’ve experienced or how difficult life may have been, I still carry that one Master Status. I can do my best to understand the experiences of other individuals and empathize with them. But there has to be a point at which each of us acknowledges that some individuals have had experiences we simply cannot understand.

This isn’t something to be ashamed of because no one can control the circumstances into which she or he was born. However, it is our responsibility to confront these circumstances and subsequent biases head-on if we are going to be socially conscious clinicians who are dedicated to following ethical principles. Furthermore, those of us with privilege have a responsibility to help those without privilege and without a voice.

I think the writer Toni Morrison expressed this sentiment particularly effectively: “I tell my students, when you get these jobs that you have been so brilliantly trained for, just remember that your real job is that if you are free, you need to free somebody else. If you have some power, then your job is to empower somebody else. This is not just a grab-bag candy game.”

 

Giving empathy another dimension

Acknowledging our privilege is important for many aspects of our work and a vital component of volunteerism. For starters, it helps us form empathy.

Although most (hopefully all) clinicians and clinicians-in-training possess some amount of empathy, acknowledging privilege gives our empathy another dimension. For instance, when working with homeless individuals as a teenager, I clearly had empathy for the population. Especially during the Great Recession, I understood that circumstances beyond these individuals’ control had led them to this place of desperation.

But this empathy needs to be multidimensional. Acknowledging one’s own privilege, and therefore the societal systems of oppression at play, allows one’s empathy to extend not only to the individual directly before you, but also to a whole group of individuals who have been affected by these systems. Now instead of feeling empathy only because of a particular individual’s immediate circumstances, I’m able to understand that clients’ lives have often been controlled by societal systems that existed long before these people came to be. These systems were created to oppress classes of individuals, leaving upward mobility out of the question for many and, too often, making simple survival an enormous feat.

 

Understanding community

In addition to growing our empathy, acknowledging our privilege is an essential part of understanding our own communities. Because we all experience privilege, we simply remain unaware of certain parts of our communities. These sections of our communities don’t concern us, so we often don’t bother to get involved in them.

This isn’t a lack of empathy. Rather, it is simply a lack of knowledge. Acknowledging our privilege means opening ourselves up to learning about the underserved of our communities and the problems that plague those with less privilege than us. Because we are clinicians, learning often sparks passion in us, and when we become passionate about changing an issue and providing voice to the voiceless, we can be unstoppable.

This deeper understanding of my community took place for me at my volunteer site, where I took notes at a monthly meeting for the Harm Reduction Coalition, which aims to provide prophylactic availability in prisons to stop HIV transmissions both inside and outside of prison. By being in a meeting of this kind, I ended up learning far more about the correctional system than prophylactic availability. Simply by being involved, I was able to meet so many individuals whose lives had been touched by the general lack of health care within prisons. In the process, I was forced to let go of my preconceptions.

I logically had assumed that when individuals in prison became sick, they were provided with the health care to which they have a right. That is until I met a woman whose husband had been diagnosed with cancer in prison but was refused knowledge of his diagnosis and treatment. His family only learned that he had cancer when he died behind bars in the arms of his friends and an autopsy revealed the truth. I met another man who had been so deprived of sensory stimulation that he had to relearn how to talk, read, write and interact with individuals upon being released from prison. I heard horror stories of treatment being denied again and again and again so that the cost wouldn’t cut into the profits of privatized correctional healthPeople Hands Holding Colorful Word Volunteer care corporations. When you are in prison, you are still supposed to have certain rights. But when those rights are violated, you are voiceless and powerless.

When I started volunteering, I thought I understood the population I was working with and the system by which they are controlled. But when you have the privilege to not automatically be aware of these systems, you find that they are far more intricate than you ever could have imagined. Often, simply learning about the populations who live within these systems and cannot escape makes it impossible to not want to be involved.

As clinicians, we need to understand that we have preconceived beliefs that are inaccurate about many parts of our society. And the reality is, we are going to have clients who are part of these populations or have been touched by these systems. To be truly responsible clinicians, we need to confront these preconceptions head-on by involving ourselves with populations with which we would not generally come into contact.

I still struggle with the idea that what I do doesn’t really make a difference — that the oppressive systems at work are so big and so concrete that anything I do can only make a dent. That’s true in a way. After all, I’m only one person. There’s only so much I can do. But I can help educate others so that they too can begin to make chinks in the armor around this system. And they can educate the people around them about the reality of the world in which we live. At the end of the day, no matter how small the things I’ve accomplished are, they’re still there. And they still make a difference.

Don’t be afraid to admit that your preconceptions are wrong. Instead be afraid of keeping those preconceptions rather than confronting them. Identify an area of society that sparks your interest and passion, and find ways to get involved. Only through accepting your privilege and confronting your biases and beliefs can you deepen your understanding of society and strengthen your abilities as a clinician.

So force yourself to get off the couch. Find a nonprofit that works in an area that interests you. Schedule a time to volunteer, and then follow through. You won’t regret it.

 

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Eleanor Rector is a second year master’s counseling student specializing in forensic psychology at Adler University in Chicago. Originally from South Florida, she studied poetry and psychology at the University of Miami. She hopes to continue her education by pursuing a Ph.D. in applied neuropsychology. Contact her at erector@my.adler.edu.

 

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

 

 

 

Counseling ‘unlikeable’ clients

By Laurie Meyers August 25, 2016

It’s not a politically correct statement, but, sometimes, clients are tough to like. Yes, counselors are supposed to remain professional at all times and practice unconditional positive regard. But they are also human, and fending off creeping feelings of “dislike” can be a challenge, especially when clients espouse racist, misogynistic or homophobic beliefs; have abrasive personalities; or simply remind counselors of someone in their own lives whom they find difficult to be around. So the question becomes, how do counselors handle that reality?

Tamara Suttle is a licensed professional counselor (LPC) in Castle Rock, Colorado, with more than 30 years of experience in mental health. She also runs a business in which she provides supervision, consultation, private practice coaching and counseling for other therapists. In her Branding-Images_Difficultopinion, most counselor education programs and the counseling profession itself don’t do enough to prepare future clinicians for those instances when they will experience negative feelings toward a client. In truth, she says, it’s a bit of a taboo topic.

“If your professors don’t talk about these things and our clinical supervisors don’t talk about these things and our colleagues and our friends and our bosses and our professional associations don’t talk about these things, then we learn pretty quickly that we aren’t supposed to talk about these things or even experience these things,” says Suttle, a member of the American Counseling Association.

But in reality, all counselors experience discomfort with and dislike of a client at some point in their careers, says Keith Myers, an LPC and ACA member in the Atlanta metro area. “If someone tells you that it does not [happen], they’re not being honest with themselves,” he says. “We are counselors who also happen to be human beings.”

Digging deeper

The key is being able to set aside and even learn from those negative feelings when they pop up, Suttle says. To do that, counselors need to discern what is truly at the root of those feelings.

Lauren Ostrowski, an LPC at a group private practice who also works at a community mental health agency in Pottstown, Pennsylvania, agrees. “To me, what is far more common [than fully disliking a client] is working with clients who do things or have traits that I don’t like,” says Ostrowski, a member of ACA. “Even if I feel like I have a client I don’t like at all, I make it a point to figure out what it is they are doing or saying that I don’t like. Then I figure out whether the problem is really me — [making] a value judgment perhaps — or whether they are doing something in session that also affects their everyday life that they are motivated to change.”

Suttle acknowledges that after reflecting on her negative feelings toward a client, she sometimes discovers that the problem actually resides with her. She is reacting with dislike because the client triggers personal issues she has struggled with herself, such as having been raised to be a people pleaser.

“I’m sure many therapists can relate to having a certain type of client that they simply prefer not to work with,” Suttle says. “For me, that has historically been a client who is so focused on people pleasing and [is so] passive or passive-aggressive that she is often unable or unwilling to own her truth and … tell the truth.”

“After years of struggling with this type of client and [having] lots of opportunities to reflect on my struggles, I now recognize my discomfort as being much more about me and my own people-pleasing tendencies than those of my clients,” she continues. “It’s one of those issues that I must continually be cognizant of and work on in order to work with clients.”

Likewise, Myers says that his feelings of dislike or discomfort with a client are often about him. “Most times … it’s [dislike] about an interpersonal issue or a client reminding me of someone I know or knew,” he says. “I think, for me, it comes down to countertransference and how a client may stir up my own unconscious — or, at times, conscious — parts of me.”

Myers and Suttle both stress the importance of counselors practicing self-reflection to identify personal issues that can creep into counseling.

When Suttle works with other counselors who are struggling to like one of their clients, she looks for what she calls “signature issues” in the counselors’ backgrounds. She does this by helping them to construct genograms. The purpose is to identify how a counselor’s family members interacted in relationships going back several generations, such as Suttle’s long line of people pleasers.

Together, Suttle and the counselor search for behavior patterns related to family relationships. For instance, passivity might be a pattern in the counselor’s family. Suttle also asks about how conflict was handled in the counselor’s home growing up. As an example, a counselor whose father punched walls when he was angry might not be comfortable with conflict. This could engender a negative reaction to clients who push back, are stubborn or struggle to control their anger, Suttle notes.

Identifying the personal issues and biases that contribute to a counselor’s dislike of a client is an important step, but that alone will not solve the problem, say Myers and Suttle. Both stress the importance of counselors receiving supervision and even engaging in individual therapy when their personal issues trigger feelings of dislike toward a client.

“Supervision and consultation play a huge role in processing the material and my own internal responses that occur within my counseling relationship with clients,” Myers says. “Having someone who comes alongside me in my process of helping others and is willing to see me through a different lens … who is often challenging me and exploring my conscious and my unconscious feelings. … [That] is so important to me keeping those ‘dislikes’ [about a client] in check.”

“Another thing I do is participate in individual therapy,” Myers says. “Sometimes if a client is rubbing me the wrong way or I feel irritated or agitated with a client, my therapist provides me with a safe space to be able to process those things.”

In addition, Ostrowski urges counselors to seek more informal supervision when struggling with negative feelings toward a client. “This doesn’t have to be the official [type of] supervision with a contract and consultation agreement, etc.,” she says. “While I think that kind of supervision is important, here I’m talking more about a trusted co-worker or another clinician where you can just have a discussion about exactly what you are reacting to, how you reacted in session and what you are going to do moving forward.”

Suttle has a consulting group that she meets with regularly, and she urges other practitioners to participate in similar groups to help them deal with problematic feelings toward clients.

Setting aside personal beliefs

In accordance with the ACA Code of Ethics, counselors know that they must not force their own beliefs on clients, but what happens when a client espouses beliefs that are hateful, personally hurtful or just uncomfortable to the counselor?

“Sometimes working with clients who have different values can be challenging,” Ostrowski says. “In that case, I really try to learn more about the client’s worldview and, in some cases, ask about how looking at a situation in a certain way may affect them or their family. Often, they are already aware of these things and will say that they understand that it causes certain trouble with extended family dynamics or may be part of why they don’t have a relationship with someone important to them. There can be some very fruitful discussions about how important their beliefs are to them compared to what it is that they want in life and whether there is some sort of balance that they see.”

When Myers, a past co-chair of the ACA Ethics Committee, is working with a client who has strong prejudices or biases against certain groups and is making judgmental or harsh comments in session, he tries to tie it back into the therapeutic process.

“I normally use this time to explore these comments so that I can gain further insight into the client’s background, values, beliefs [and] family-of-origin issues,” he explains. “This is usually an opportunity to hold the tension while exploring deeper with the client. And if we believe it’s important to be fully accepting and nonjudgmental with all clients, then it’s important for us to accept those who are different from us and who hold very different values and opinions, even when they are being judgmental.”

Although Ostrowski often manages to make therapeutic use of a client’s biases or prejudices, she acknowledges that it isn’t always easy, recounting the story of one of her recent cases as an example. “A few days after the tragic shootings in the Orlando nightclub [at Pulse in Florida on June 12], I had a client discussing his beliefs on the whole idea with me. Let’s just say that [the client’s beliefs and Ostrowski’s beliefs] were about as far opposite as one can get, and on top of that, he had a lot of the facts incorrect. I did mention that I had heard different facts on the news, but he disagreed,” she says. “I stopped trying to point out things that were different from what I had heard, and I allowed him to discuss how all of this had affected him, restating what he was saying and asking for more information.”

Ostrowski says the situation served as a good reminder for her to closely monitor her reactions when faced with a client’s prejudicial statements and biases. “I will say that for the rest of the session after the topic was brought up, I was checking every statement or question I used before I said it to see whether it was to benefit me or my client,” she notes.

It is important for counselors to know themselves well so they can better guard against their personal beliefs and biases slipping into the counseling session, Ostrowski says. However, that doesn’t mean that counselors have to give up their personal beliefs.

“We can keep our worldview [as counselors] and simultaneously learn more about the world as our clients see it,” she explains. “For that matter, it’s not even about hiding our beliefs, but more about disclosing only those that would further the conversation we are having with our clients about what they believe and leading them in the direction of their therapeutic goals.”

Regardless, hearing a client spout hateful or misinformed comments in session can still take a toll on counselors, Myers and Ostrowski say, and that is one reason why they think counselor self-care is crucial in these situations. Myers take breaks to walk in nature after client sessions that may have been upsetting because the activity helps him clear his head. Ostrowski, meanwhile, has found that staying grounded helps her and can be particularly useful while in session.

“[Staying grounded] may decrease the feeling of being emotionally flooded or overwhelmed,” she explains. “[It] can be as simple as taking the time to notice your feet on the floor or your hips in the chair. The possibilities are endless. Each and every one of us can find some way that we can move or notice the location of our body in the room or the chair in a way that is not distracting to a client. It takes only a matter of seconds and can change the trajectory of the session because of having an increased ability to stay present with the client in that moment.”

‘Liking’ versus ‘accepting’

Other clients can be difficult to like not so much because of their beliefs but because they possess abrasive personalities.

Christine Moll, an LPC who practices in the Buffalo, New York, area, points out that no one ever said that counselors have to like every client they come in contact with. She cites the writings of Carl Rogers — one of the founders of the client-centered approach — to support her statement.

“He called for empathy,” Moll explains. “Nowhere did he say like, but [rather] embracing the person with concern or care, wanting the best for that person.”

Moll, an ACA member who is also a past president of the Association for Adult Development and Aging, says she has definitely encountered clients whom she didn’t like, but she always tries to put her personal feelings in perspective. “I have worked with clients that I have found difficult, arrogant, elitist or biased,” she says. “But I am not in their lives. I don’t need to share a fence with them. I think to myself that if I [have to put my reactions] aside, it’s just for 50 minutes, and I tell myself, ‘It’s not about you.’”

Regardless of how a counselor feels about a client, the goal should always be to help that client find and attain a good quality of life, says Moll, who is also a counselor educator at Canisius College. “I try to use what I’ve not liked about a person and figure out how to reframe it,” she notes.

For instance, clients might come to counseling complaining that no one likes them and they don’t know why. Moll explains, “I might point out a [client’s] passion for life that other people might see as a chip on the shoulder and say, ‘I see your energy and your passion for life, and if you feel threatened and put up against a wall, you are going to fight back. That’s great. That’s a gift. But can you see how that can lead people to see you negatively?’”

Ostrowski suggests exploring whether a client’s difficult personality is connected to the reason that person is seeking counseling. “For example,” she says, “if clients come across very gruff and unpleasant, it could be that they have emotions that they don’t understand or they struggle to have effective conversations, thereby leading them to react in ways that are perceived as unpleasant because of self-protection strategies.”

Moll also tries to identify positive aspects in even the most unpleasant client. “I was raised with the idea that everyone’s got something [good] about them,” she says. “If I find a glimmer or find a good quality, I praise it.”

Myers comes back to the importance of always putting the client first in the counseling relationship. “I will say, yes, it is harder to work with a client that I don’t like, at least at first. But then I remind myself that I must accept each client where they are in their lives and that I don’t have to like them necessarily to fully accept them, support them and offer them respect.”

 

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To contact the counselors interviewed for this article, email:

 

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Laurie Meyers is the senior writer for Counseling Today. Contact her at lmeyers@counseling.org.

Letters to the editor: ct@counseling.org

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

 

 

The Counseling Connoisseur: Snakes and courageous conversations

By Cheryl Fisher August 8, 2016

“Snake looks scary for us and we look scary for the snake! Always try to see yourself from the eyes of others!” — Mehmet Murat Ildan

Depositphotos_7646186_m-2015

It was a balmy early summer night. The fireflies’ sporadic flicker illuminated the dusky gray. I had just let my canine companions out to relieve both their curiosities and bladders. Max, an 8-year-old apricot goldendoodle, was enjoying a good round of sniffing. In particular, he was engaged in a game of hide-and-seek with the small lizards that reside between our concrete patio pavers and my herb garden. Lily, a 6-year-old rescue poodle mix, stood on alert, intently surveying her domain for the occasional squirrel or rabbit intruder.

I settled into the cushion of a wicker chair and sipped my freshly steeped and iced mint tea. This time of day was magical to me. It was the crease between dark and light where shadows mingle and vision is blurred.

Suddenly, I was startled from my sleepy reflection by the frenzy of Lily’s movements. She darted across the lawn to the farthest point of the yard. Perhaps a visitor had invaded her lawn. She lunged toward the fence and began a frantic barrage of growls and barks. Max, only slightly distracted, resumed his lizard chase.

Squinting, I attempted to see what had captured Lily’s attention. Walking over, I still couldn’t clearly discern the object of her obsession, but it looked like a large black stick was wedged between the fences of our yard and our neighbor’s yard. As I moved closer, I noted that the stick was slithering. The black slippery-looking flesh curled and coiled among the wooden planks and chain-link of the two yards. There, inches from me and my frantic dog, was a 6-foot-long black rat snake.

I grabbed Lily and dragged her, protesting, all the way to the house. I coaxed Max inside with a treat. Then, pocketing my cellphone and sliding the door shut behind me, I made my way back to the reptilian visitor. Heart pounding, I tiptoed through the wet grass to where the slithery serpent was now sniffing out her surroundings with the quick snap of her tongue. She turned, tongue flicking rapidly and her eyes fixed on me.

“Is she poisonous?” I wondered. “How do I get her out of my yard? I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t want her to hurt me or my dogs either. What on earth should I do?”

I snapped a couple of pictures with my phone (mostly for the sake of research). The snake moved slowly in a patient, nonaggressive manner. I followed her lead, deliberately keeping my movements small, slow and steady. She was curious but calm, and really quite beautiful in the rising moonlight. I was a bit frightened but also in awe of her splendor. I realized that both snake and human were trying to assess safety in that moment. She was wary of me … and I was certainly wary of her. Yet we were both sharing space (albeit several yards apart) and attempting to communicate with each other.

 

Communion

Diana Butler Bass, in her book Grounded: Finding God in the World — A Spiritual Revolution, wrote that we commune with others when “we pay attention to the barks and chirps, observing their wants and needs.” Furthermore, she reminds us that we are in an interdependent relationship and mutually share resources with all living beings.

Martin Luther King Jr. noted that to be in communion is to recognize our “inescapable network of mutuality” and the “interrelated structure of reality” in which we all live. Therefore, there exists the realization that we need to learn to develop respectful understanding and compassion for all living beings (human and nonhuman) if we are to coexist in this shared planet. As counselors, we are charged to provide unbiased and compassionate care to all individuals, regardless of differences in values, beliefs or lifestyles.

 

Compassion

According to Bass, compassion means “to endure with another grief, suffering and experience.” The Charter for Compassion, an international community promoting global compassion, outlines “practices of nonviolence, respect and appreciation that cultivate an informed empathy with the suffering of all human beings —even those regarded as enemies.”

However, fear often impedes the first step in communication or the attempt at compassion. Countless examples of fear-driven violence in the news are perpetuated by ignorance. I must admit, my first reaction to our reptilian visitor was to grab a shovel and pummel that snake. I was afraid!

But she was not causing any harm. She did not attack me or my dogs. She was blissfully enjoying the night. Had I succumbed to my fear, I would have missed out on the intimacy afforded by this creature and the night.

 

Courageous conversations

All over the world, communities are daring to give voice to the fears and eradicate the ignorance. Most recently, I received a message from the Maryland Counseling Association reminding counselors of our role in creating better communities through client advocacy: “May we all be courageous in our community work to exercise and protect independence for present and future generations of all walks of life.”

Thomas Berry, priest and ecotheologian, held a vision that cultivated conversations around these challenging questions. In his vision, Berry crafted 10 values laden with questions for conversation and consideration:

1) Ecological wisdom: How can we operate societies with the understanding that we are part of nature? How can we guarantee the rights of all human and nonhuman species?

2) Grassroots democracy: How can we develop systems that allow, encourage and ensure that representatives will be fully accountable to the persons who elected them?

3) Personal and social responsibility: How can we respond to human suffering in ways that promote dignity?

4) Nonviolence: How can we, as a society, develop effective alternatives to our current patterns of violence?

5) Decentralization: How can we restore power and responsibility to individuals, institutions and communities?

6) Community-based economy: How can we develop new activities and institutions that use our technologies in ways that are humane, freeing, ecological and responsive to communities?

7) Postpatriarchal values: How can we encourage people to care about persons outside their own group? How can we promote respectful, positive and responsive relationships across the lines of gender and other divisions?

8) Respect for diversity: How can we honor cultural, ethnic, racial, sexual, religious and spiritual diversity within the context of individual responsibility to all beings?

9) Global responsibility: How can we promote sustainability globally?

10) Future focus: How can we encourage long-range visions versus short-term interest?

As we move forward, we (as a counseling and helping community) must continue to engage in these courageous conversations. We must attempt to diminish fear and eradicate ignorance by demonstrating and promoting care, compassion and advocacy for all beings. As Berry proposed, the world is a “community of subjects rather than a collection of objects” that is interdependent and a “mutually enhancing human-Earth presence.” We need to learn to play nicely together for the sake of all creatures.

 

Conclusion

I was afraid of the serpent in my backyard because I was ignorant. When I took the time to study her as a fellow participant in my community, I became less fearful and cultivated a respectful awe of my new neighbor. It is in this place of wonder and awe — “in between the creases of dark and light where vision is blurred” — that I leave you with a final tale whose author remains anonymous.

Once upon a time, a very wise professor had a very engaging class. And her students asked one day, “Professor, how can we tell the difference between light and dark?”

The professor began to think deeply when a student interrupted. “Oh, I know … when we can discern a palm tree from a fig tree in the distance?”

The professor thought a moment and shook her head, “No.”

Another student piped in, “Oh, I know! When we can perceive a donkey from a camel in the distance?”

The professor thought a moment and again replied, “No.”

Impatient (as curious students can be), they asked, “So, how is it we can discern when darkness is turning to light?”

The professor looked at her thoughtful students and said, “You will know that light is upon us … when you can look into the face of a stranger … and see the eyes of a brother or sister. Until then … we all live in darkness.”

 

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Cheryl Fisher

Cheryl Fisher

Cheryl Fisher is a licensed clinical professional counselor in private practice in Annapolis, Maryland, and a visiting full-time faculty member in the Pastoral Counseling Department at Loyola University Maryland. Her current research examines sexuality and spirituality in young women with advanced breast cancer. She is currently working on a book titled Homegrown Psychotherapy: Scientifically-Based Organic Practices, of which this article is an excerpt. Contact her at cy.fisher@verizon.net.

 

 

 

 

 

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

 

 

From counselor of clients to midwife of hope

By Christine M. Browning December 17, 2015

In preparation for teaching a graduate introductory theories course, I read back through some applicable articles. Arthur J. Clark published an article in the Journal of Counseling & Development in 2010 that described a counseling model based on Carl Rogers’ phenomenological framework.

Clark’s model is composed of three interpersonal ways of knowing:

1) Subjective empathy

2) Interpersonal empathy

3) Objective empathy

As I read through the article, I was reminded of the wealth of application that Rogers’ three tenets — genuineness, empathy and unconditional positive regard — unconsciously contribute to my profession and how effortlessly they align with my personal and spiritual worldviews. Clark’s article also reminded me of a recent counseling session in which a seemingly typical client’s response to a standard interview question solidified my propensity for Rogers’ theory, gave figure to Clark’s form of three separately distinguishable “ways of knowing” and brought a new awareness to the very real and meaningful spiritual moments in a counselor’s profession.

The interview process for a state agency is fairly standardized, but the details are as varied as the people who need to be heard. The process isn’t at all like an initial interview session conducted for the purpose of developing counselor-client rapport in which a treatment plan is proposed, discussed SunnyPathand adopted. Rather, it is a one-time meeting after which a report is written and sent to the state. The counselor’s “job” is to clearly and concisely provide a narrative picture of the client for review.

The information-gathering aspect of the client evaluation is always interesting but typically uneventful. The counseling scenario recorded herein serves as a case study for the application of Clark’s model. The counseling session served to bring my individual inclinations for person-centered therapy, my fund of professional training and my spiritual sensitivity into a keen, insightful focus. Permission has been granted for reproduction of the session particulars reported here.

 

Sympathetic empathy

It was only 10:30 a.m., but it had already been a very long day. As I lumbered to the waiting room to retrieve my third client of the morning, the visible depth of her sadness struck me and shook me out of my self-engrossed Monday stupor.

The two friends who accompanied the disheveled woman rose anxiously in concert with her. I introduced myself and informed the friends that it was not necessary for them to join the woman during the interview session; they would be consulted if and when necessary. The pair reluctantly and simultaneously sat in perched-on-the-edge-of-their-seats fashion. Their concern for their friend was clear.

During this brief exchange, my client never raised her gaze from the spot on the floor directly in front of her feet. Once in my office, she didn’t look up but sat where instructed and answered what was asked with bulleted spurts of information.

I quickly jotted down these words on my notepad: “Low voice tone and rate, poor eye contact, flat affect, despondent, hopeless.” I silently breathed a prayer that God would grant me a sense of His presence and help me identify the onset of the spiral of defeat into which this client seemed to have fallen.

Clark refers to this interchange between counselor and client as subjective empathy, or what Rogers referred to as unconditional positive regard. It is the moment of imagined identification with a client’s plight that consists not of pity or an inclination to “fix” but rather the genuine heartfelt, unspoken tug of humanity between counselor and client.

 

Interpersonal empathy

A few moments into the session, I asked, “Have you ever been married?”

“No,” the client sighed, her gaze still fixed downward.

“Do you have any children?” This is a standard question in the necessary interview process, but the woman’s response was gripping. She looked up briefly and locked her eyes with mine as tears streamed down her cheeks and onto her shirt. Then she lowered her head as her body began to heave with muffled sobs.

I waited for the wave of emotion to pass and felt the atmosphere of the room change. The question I had posed had inserted a key into my client’s private hell. Why did that simple question evoke a torrential response?

With a hushed, respectful tone, I asked if the client could tell me about her tears. As I moved the tissue box closer to her groping hand, she stated in a pointed and harsh tone, “I am not a mother. I had a stillborn baby…” Her carefully worded statement trailed off into a second torrent of tears.

I sat in awe of her bravery and her ability to communicate the depth of her pain with such simply stated words. Words brimming with brokenness and love — a mother’s love.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” I whispered. “How long ago?” I asked.

“Two … years,” was her broken, tearful response.

Her sobbing quieted as we sat together in the palpable sorrow. Somewhere in our brief exchange we had stepped away from the counselor-client relationship and into the territory of two women together shouldering the burden of life and loss.

“I know you told me you do not have any children, that you are not a mother,” I offered, “but you do have a child. You are a mother!”

Her eyes flashed with a spark of light as she settled them onto mine.

“You are a mother,” I repeated. “You birthed a child.”

Clark refers to this second way of knowing between counselor and client as interpersonal empathy — empathy experienced with the client in the here and now from an “extended empathic perspective.” This concept represents Rogers’ genuineness, although less in the sense of counselor identification with the client.

 

Objective empathy

I wrote down the name of a group for women just like her — mothers whose babies drifted into eternal sleep before drawing their first earth-bound breath. These stillborn sons and daughters are beloved children.

My client had never heard of such an oasis. A room full of women with similar experience and understanding — empathy. She readjusted her position in the chair as her bowed shoulders widened and her poorly postured spine straightened. She was incredulous and full of questions about the group.

Clark refers to this tapping into referential data as objective empathy. It is the reflexive skill that develops as a counselor steps away from the classroom and into the lives of real people. Objective empathy brings a synthesis to the broad scope of information obtained during a counselor’s education, practical training and professional credentialing. It is the empathy component of Rogers’ ways of knowing.

“What did you name your child?” I probed, extending the realm of interpersonal empathy we had ventured into together.

As she answered, her tears slowly ebbed and her voice grew confident with the sound of her child’s name in the air. She repeated it. I repeated it. Her countenance brightened. Her eyes cleared. She reached for another tissue with decisive intention, and the interview concluded with the fragrance of hope surrounding us.

About 15 minutes after the she left my office, the woman called to talk to me. I was already with another client, but my secretary took this message: “I got into the group! I start this week!” Her voice was reportedly bright with excitement.

 

Conclusion

Psalm 56:13, written long before my interaction with this client, aptly describes the experience from my perspective: “For you have delivered me from death and my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before God in the light of life.”

The interaction also appropriately answered Gordon Paul’s (1967) quintessential question of best practices in counseling (paraphrased): “What will work best for this particular client with this particular concern at this particular time with this particular counselor?”

In the brief measure of a 55-minute session, I witnessed the beauty of renewal as God’s Spirit hovered and birthed the mother of a stillborn child into life again. In the process, my profession was also altered — from mere counselor of clients to midwife of hope. It was more than theoretical positioning, clinical skill or the demonstration of a new design. It was an amalgam of individuality, knowledge, professional posture and an intentional spiritual sensitivity.

What Clark’s work demonstrates for the counseling community, as viewed through the lens of an actual counseling session, is a framework born of Rogers’ time-honored theory upon which three clearly identifiable elements of empathy are constructed. As demonstrated in the counseling scenario recounted, these three elements can be utilized to facilitate a person-centered approach to therapy.

It is my goal as I train future counselors to introduce them to the expanding wealth of clinical intervention and teach them to assimilate new knowledge into the rich pool of training, closely observe for keys to unlock clients’ stories and remain spiritually sensitive to the potential of client encounters.

As these encounters transpire, we will experience increasing opportunities to function as midwives of hope in this ever-varied, extremely challenging and uniquely rewarding field.

 

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Christine M. Browning is an associate professor and director of the master’s in counseling program at Milligan College in Tennessee. She is a licensed professional counselor, a nationally certified counselor and a senior psychological examiner. In addition to her teaching and administrative duties at Milligan, she maintains a small private practice. Contact her at CMBrowning@milligan.edu.

 

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Related reading

For more on working with clients who are going through a miscarriage loss or infertility, see Counseling Today‘s October cover story, “Empty crib, broken heart

For more on strengthening the counselor-client therapeutic alliance, see our 2014 article “Connecting with clients