Well-constructed, well-conducted scientific method has been invaluable in the helping professions to focus and evolve treatment. It has helped us to direct our energy toward what is more likely to be helpful and to keep questioning and improving as we go.
But there is another side of helping others that is more art than science. More Goldilocks and the Three Bears than peer-reviewed journal, where how we do something is as important as what we do.
We often talk about the qualities we want to embody, but in reality we’re aiming more for a series of delicate balances that create a therapeutic potential. We want to be curious but not intrusive. Authentic, but not unfiltered. Optimistic but not unrealistic. Non-judgemental but not undiscerning. Self-aware but not hyper self-conscious.
We want to be responsive without being inconsistent or inauthentic, and consistent without being rigid or inflexible. We want to be present but not at the expense of losing our focus on why we are there together in the first place. We want to be friendly but not in an unboundaried way. And definitely not in a creepy way.
If we think of a surfer skilfully riding a big wave, there’s a lot of physics going on there, a lot of opposing forces. But when experienced surfers talk about it, they typically don’t talk about the individual mechanics. They talk about flow, being at one with the wave, the board, their body, their whole experience.
And while science may be able to describe it, the way we want to be with people is more of an exquisite balance than a fixed state. And like all good balances, we may never arrive, or if we do it’s for a fleeting moment as we sail past into the opposite.
And maybe that’s OK. If we can hold our destination more lightly, we are more able to attune and recalibrate. If we are less focused on achieving an ideal, we can be more in the process. We may not find those unicorns of perfect balance. But we may experience more flow, both within ourselves and with the other person.
Helen Mentha 