Welcome! I first met Jeanne here on Substack and I’m a big admirer of her work as a psychotherapist with ‘the Earth as her co-therapist’ and of her skill as a writer. In our gentle conversation we discussed whether we take our pets into our therapy sessions (and what can go wrong), the links between Buddhism and therapy, activism, hope & more. Make yourself a cuppa & join us!
Hi Jeanne - thank you for agreeing to take part in this gentle conversation. I'll say a little something about myself to get us started. As you know I'm a psychotherapist like you using Internal Family Systems, and I run a Buddhist temple in the UK - we do quite a lot of outside practice including mindful walks on the Malvern hills. Recently I've been doing more regular writing, which has been wonderful. What about you?
Hi Satya -- I love the points of connection between us, even though we've never met and live on different continents! Like you, I'm a psychotherapist, a practicing Buddhist, I love combining mindfulness and nature, I'm an enthusiastic gardener (you too, I think?) and have been doing more regular writing lately. My first career was journalism, and I have missed writing.
I live in the US, the extreme northwest corner of South Carolina, a lushly beautiful place where we're ringed by the Blue Ridge Mountains. I'm a native of this area, but have lived in many other places in the course of my life. Came back here about 20 years ago to care for my aging parents. I'm also the mum of three daughters whom my husband and I adopted from Cambodia in the early 2000s. (I was very keen on adopting from a Buddhist country.)
Motherhood has presented me with lots of challenge and heartbreak, to be honest -- but we all survived those turbulent years, thank goodness, and the girls are now lovely young women making their way(s) in the world. I'm also a grandmother, thanks to my husband's two daughters from his first marriage. One of them has provided us with two cute li'l grandkids who are now 10 and 8. Unfortunately, they live in Florida and we've only seen them a few times during the pandemic years. My husband and I have recently settled into what we hope will be our last home (we're in our sixties). Our main joys are hiking and birding, with a kayak day trip thrown in here & there.
My question for you: I'm curious to hear more about your work. How do you "turn off" at the end of a day seeing clients? Do you have specific rituals to cleanse your energy field, or shake off the effects of hearing about people's trauma and suffering? Also, how does your Buddhist practice dovetail with your work as a therapist? Does it help or hinder? (I know, a lot of questions. Sorry!)
Great to hear more about your life, and I looked up South Carolina too - my geography is terrible. Interesting question - and I'll answer it in a roundabout way by saying that I'm more likely to come out of client sessions in a better mental state than when I went in, rather than the other way round. I think it's something about completely entering someone else's world for a while that, in parts language, disconnects me from my own troubled parts and finds a fresh start.
I do sometimes have sessions with clients who are suffering very deeply and intensely - after these I have been known to do a crazy dance for five minutes, or to go on a walk, or even to have a little cry. I also remind myself that I can take the work to supervision if I need to, and that I'm not on my own.
My Buddhist practice does enter some of my work explicitly, as some of my clients are also Buddhist and were attracted to me for that reason, but mostly it underpins everything with a deep sense of refuge and peace, which helps to hold everything out. In parts work language, I have Self inside and SELF/Buddha outside. I hope that makes sense!
I'd be interested to hear more about how your Buddhism and your therapy practice has intertwined (or not) over the years?
Yes, the crazy dance! I've been known to do that at the end of the workday, too. I liken it to the way animals shake off anxiety by shaking their body all over. I also let sound come out ... wish I could figure out what combination of letters might "spell" that sound here. I also, when I used to see clients in an office, would sing at the top of my lungs the whole drive home. That really cleared the air.
As for Buddhist practice, I like how you described it providing a deep sense of refuge and peace for your work. Agreed! I think it helps me be present and clear for my clients; I'm so grateful for that. I'm sure you see it on a daily basis, as I do -- the healing power of pure, compassionate presence. Some people have never in their lives been received and listened to in that way. I love how transformative it can be.
Okay, a silly/trivial question: Do your dogs sit in on sessions with you? If so, how do your clients respond?
Yes, 'the healing power of pure, compassionate presence'. Internal Family Systems has helped me to be so much clearer about that. And I LOVE that question! During my therapy training I picked up lots of strict rules about what I could or couldn't do as a therapist - never self-disclose, always say no to gifts etc. I couldn't imagine having a pet in the room. Then I had a brilliant supervisor, Nick Totton, who was just more relaxed about the whole business - of course he took his responsibility to his clients incredibly seriously, as I do, but he didn't have all the rules I had internalised and he had his cat in the room. I thought, oh! - is that allowed?! This is one example of all sorts of different kinds of permission I received during my supervision with him.
That was many years ago and since then my two little dogs come into all my face to face sessions. I have one client who prefers them not to be there, which is fine, but all the others choose to have the companionship. Sometimes the dogs are slightly annoying (e.g. Aiko likes to ferret in pockets for used tissues and lick faces). Once Ralph started anxiety-barking at a client when they were distressed - that turned out to be useful in the long run but it was a sticky moment for me! Mostly they increase the pure compassionate presence in the room. They get lots of extra strokes too and so it's a good deal for them!
My question for you - what have been your big learnings as a therapist since you started out?
OMG, you made me laugh out loud -- Ralph anxiety-barking at a client. That's so funny! (Well, maybe not in that moment, but ...) Since the pandemic, I've been doing telehealth sessions and I absolutely love seeing clients' pets in their homes with them. Cats especially are hysterical. They seem to get jealous of their human talking to the computer and ignoring them, so they get quite insistent about commandeering the situation. Once, a cat reached out with her paw, hit the computer keyboard, and totally wiped out our session: "We are done here, OKAY?!"
All right, seriously -- now to your question. Which is a great one. One of my biggest learnings, I'd say, is similar to what you mentioned about Nick Totton and his relaxing of the so-called "rules" of therapy. (He sounds marvelous, by the way!) I've learned to be the most natural me I can be with my clients, and that seems to free them up to be more comfortable with themselves. I truly believe in the therapeutic value of that. I understand that for many clients, it's an uncomfortable -- if not terrifying -- situation to come into a space where they are laying themselves bare, emotionally. If I can model for them the power of being vulnerable/fallible, it gives them permission to do the same. This may be a silly example, but I've noticed that if I do something clumsy during a session -- spill my tea, knock my headphones off my face, drop my pen on the floor -- it instantly humanizes everything. I laugh at myself, they laugh, and things get lighter.
Another big learning is the power of silence. I'm still working on this one. My first supervisor, when I was interning at a hospice, told me that silence (during a session) "is where the gems will appear." I've never forgotten that. I suspect I talk too much as a therapist, and I'm trying to remember to keep my mouth shut at crucial times. I'm so eager to help the client ferret out "the answer" (whatever that is?!), that I sometimes jump the gun and blurt it out. That's my eager-to-help-and-get-it-right part. Even if I phrase it as a question ("I wonder if it could be that ...."), it'd still be infinitely better if I clamp my mouth shut, sit back, and wait for that magic moment when the client discovers the "gem" on their own.
Do you have any advice for me on this?
I have similar parts - one that wants to be seen as clever, one that is desperate to help...
Two suggestions. One is the acronym you may have already heard from IFS circles - WAIT - Why Am I Talking? Asking myself this when I am about to open my mouth has been so helpful - it tunes me into my motivation and often I make the decision to leave some more silence instead. If things are proceeding quite well without me, then there's no need for me to stick my oar in!
The other is to really get to know the part that's eager-to-help. What does it think might happen if it left silence? What job is it performing for you? If it didn't step in, what might happen? What vulnerabilities might be underneath? It will have excellent reasons for being present in therapy sessions, and it may need some reassurance from you before it trusts that it can go and do something else whilst you're being a therapist instead!
I guess I'm on my final question too. I've been feeling more disengaged from the terrible fact of the climate crisis recently, having come out of a phase of more intense activism over a period of years. I know that you are deeply connected to the landscape around you and to the wisdom of nature. How do you engage with these global crises in a way that doesn't tip you into overwhelm? Any advice for the parts of me that always feel they should be doing more?
Ah, maybe the stickiest question of our times: How do we live our own lives, attend to our own needs, focus on our own small joys and sorrows, whilst also caring about the massive crisis threatening this beautiful, fragile planet?
One thing I want to say first, Satya, is how much I respect you for all the climate activism you have done. That's how you first came to my attention -- your posts about that work, in your "Dear Earth" letters. Thank you for your service to our dear Gaia!
Secondly, I wish I had a wise answer to this very important question. I don't. I know that I see a lot more spiritual teachers taking up the subject now. Just yesterday, I got an e-mail from Tricycle about their upcoming online summit on climate despair. It's free and it happens over several days later this month. I like the subtitle on it: Transforming Anxiety into Awakened Action.
Personally, if I'm slipping into despair or overwhelm, I first turn to the Buddhist teachings on anicca, impermanence. Then I look for solace in nature. You mentioned her wisdom, and I agree. Seeing the way that my creek recovers from a flooding rain, or how a spring ephemeral wildflower pushes up from the cold ground, or how a tree recovers from a wound -- all that is inspiring. It provides comfort.
But it doesn't solve, or even address, the climate crisis. So that's when I seek out things I can do that feel meaningful and responsible, no matter how small -- for example, buying food locally from the farmer who lives near me. Continuing to compost and recycle. Reduce reduce reduce plastic. Not travel by air anymore. Use and reuse water mindfully. Minimize my purchases of clothes, shoes, "beauty aids," the million and one things we think we need to be happy. (The older I get, the easier that's becoming. Also, the more time I spend in nature, the simpler my desires become.)
I'm only one person and these are infinitesimal actions. But they keep me connected to purpose and engagement. They help me fend off despair and hopelessness.
Do you think maybe your parts that feel you should be doing more could be encouraged to look at what you ARE doing to help the environment? My guess is they're ignoring the small stuff, the decisions you make every day that may be invisible to others -- but they're important. Many blessings to you, defender of our Dear Earth.
Actions that ‘keep you connected to purpose and engagement' and that 'help you fend off despair and hopelessness' - yes, that's exactly how it is for me. Little tiny bubbles of hope. Thank you so much, it's affirming and encouraging to hear your words. Well - it feels appropriate that we end with dear Earth, with your green connections. Is there any last thing you'd like to say?
Just a big hearty thank you for inviting me into your space, Satya! It's been fun batting a ball back & forth, and conversing about our shared passions. I think it would be lovely to meet you in person, but this is definitely the next best thing. I've always been an Anglophile, and now I have another reason to be fond of the UK. Cheerio!
⭐
Check out Jeanne’s lovely Substack at Rx Nature. Find Jeanne’s therapy website at Green Bird Nature Therapy.
Wonderful words.❤️
Loved this post, thanks to you both.