When I was a newly-hatched therapist, I believed I was supposed to know more than my client. What good is a license if you aren’t the expert? Gradually wisdom began to penetrate the counseling room.
Sam and Ida brought their discordant marriage to me. Problems at home invariably locked them into a pair of never-back-down postures. I liked them both immediately. She was stern but kind, determined to be right and to do right. He was the softer partner, behind a tall, commanding presence.
Soon our sessions became repeated stories of near-violent arguments. It was excruciating to listen. I met with each partner separately, validating the two positions. I unreeled my best strategies, taught them all the latest how-to-communicate tricks from the pros. They practiced in my office and again at home. Still, back came the aftermath of another painful clash.
This pattern was winding me up. I can be intense when in pursuit of solutions. At their next session, I said I had met defeat. Why are they still coming? Why are they still together?
Sam and Ida stared at me, stunned.
Finally, Sam spoke, “Maureen, you need to know how much we love each other. 96%, no, 98% of the time we are passionately in love. You only see the other 2%.”
I looked from Sam to Ida. He was leaning toward me with a round, eager face. Beside him, spine still erect, Ida nodded enthusiastic agreement.
Human beings are ultimately understandable. That doesn’t mean they are predictable. Thank you Sam and Ida for teaching me I am at my best when I expect to be surprised.
Learn to pivot and you just might master the sport of life.
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