The Quality of Presence

Walking down the street today, listening to my new book on my iPod shuffle, I was struck by the number of people also engaged in listening to iPods or talking on mobiles and I had to jump out of the way of people walking along and texting at the same time. I found myself wondering how present are we in our daily lives these days? So much of the time we are effectively absent - talking on the phone with someone who is elsewhere, listening to music which takes us away from the reality of the present moment, or in my case visualising the intricacies of life on Mars as I listen to my book.

Before I got my iPod I used to practice mindfulness meditation as I sat on the bus or walked along the road. I was fully aware of my surroundings - the sights, the sounds, the smells, the taste of the traffic fumes on my tongue, as well as being aware of myself in that setting - the feel of my feet on my ground, the sense of my body moving through the air, the sensation of my inbreath moving through my nostrils and into my lungs. These days I'm probably just about aware enough to be able to manoeuvre my way through my fellow pedestrians or not to get run over when crossing the road. I don't have the same sense of my journey to work or of my relationship with my surroundings or with the people that I encounter along the way. It seems to me that we have got used to a life lived in distraction elsewhere, rather than being truly present in each moment of our lives.

I wonder what impact that has on us as therapists or on our clients. Is it harder these days for us to really be present with each other or does it make that therapeutic hour more precious - a time when we can put aside all distractions and really be together in relationship?

Intimacy

I'm a bit of a sci-fi geek, much to the derision of certain of my colleagues. It's a form of escapism, but what really interests me is that it offers the opportunity to explore relationships, albeit in alien environments. Last year I treated myself to a subscription with Audible which has allowed me to "read" a number of books that might otherwise have remained overlooked on the shelves of the bookstore. I'm currently "reading" Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson, which tells the story of a group of scientists who go to build a colony on Mars. These words struck me today:

"People didn't realise that true intimacy didn't consist of sexual intercourse, which could be done with strangers and in a state of total alienation. Intimacy consisted of talking for hours about what was most important in one's life..."

These words are spoken by the psychologist, (who is on the verge of losing the plot) about a counselling session with one of the colonists. What he says makes some sense to me - there is an intimacy in the therapeutic relationship where the client may well be sharing things they have never spoken of before, or possibly never even admitted to themselves and where they are being met by the therapist at a deep level. But of necessity that sharing is one-sided - the client is sharing whilst the therapist is striving to meet with them at that depth. It is a form of intimacy, but is it true intimacy?

To blog or not to blog...

... that is the question. What do I have to say that I feel a need to share with anyone who stumbles across this page? After all my work is bound by confidentiality so there's a lot that I cannot write about. But then reading the blogs of a couple of friends and fellow counsellors made me think that perhaps this could provide an opportunity to explore some of the thoughts that come up about the therapeutic process, ideas that there's just no time to look at in supervision, things that you might discuss with a friend. I guess I could jot them down in a notebook or a journal, but that would give no chance for discussion and I realise that dialogue is what I'm hoping for.

So here goes...