My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
The Aim of Therapy
There are still people thinking the aim of the process is the expression of feeling, that people in therapy should be learning to shout their rage and weep their disappointment, when the aim is really understanding and in understanding what is thought, felt or believed having a choice whether to continue, whether or not to respond and if we should decide to express anything, how should it be done. What expression, if any, is most faithful to us.
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