The first session introduced us to Morton, a married man to Eva, and father to Abigail. Monte is the family dog. Morton was recommended to counseling by his PCP. She had reportedly noted some early medical matters of concern, namely weight loss of 8-pounds and high blood pressure. He came hesitantly. He referenced his biological parents as those who took care of their own problems. He’d been searching for answers to yet spoken problems that he couldn’t manage alone. He works, goes home, eats small portions, watches television, talks with his daughter, and goes to bed. He’s always tired.

He’d recently been sent home from work due to a near accident. His employer of 12-years is worried and suggested he take two days off. His subsequent PCP visit accorded Morton without any medications, if even considered. He doesn’t like to take medicine. Ergo, counseling was encouraged. Coming to counseling was not an easy choice.

I lauded him for coming to counseling. Whatever Morton has been experiencing, liken to many, a story hasn’t been told. Whatever the experiences he’d been facing, his body gave rise to a need to let go. Morton, I could only imagine, internalized some experience that began to affect his body, his job, some early functioning compromise. Additionally, I offered Morton an open-ended dialogue with his PCP, if information sharing was indicated.

Morton referenced a non-experience for counseling with his family. Perhaps a priest or minister’s guidance was sought out. He described an ordinary life, work, play, and a regular life. Purchasing his current home was described as the greatest problem to overcome. Interest in a dog catapulted the family from rental to ownership. He distinguished himself by purchasing a home with room for everyone to enjoy. Morton was telling a story. It’s fairly common that some unmentioned anxiety may favor small talk in the early stages of counseling. When holding back, whereby internalizing one’s story, in the client’s own time will more vital information be revealed.

Listening without judgment is critical in the early stages of counseling. Unless a client presents in a crisis or even an emergency, trust in this new and different relationship takes its own time. It’s like an inner voice that says I have something to say, and I may not be quite ready at first glance. Clients don’t like to be rushed. Good active listening will hopefully assuage the nervousness and allow for a free flow of information.

So, here today, for his second session, we meet Morton. I’m glad you came today. How did your week go? Did you share anything with your wife, Eva, and your daughter, Abigail?

“You know, when I left your office last week, I went directly home. Usually, we eat dinner and chill the rest of the evening. This time, I don’t know what came over me. Dinner was in the oven, and it sure smelled good. I told Eva that we hadn’t been out for dinner in a long time. While she insisted on eating our meal at home, I grabbed Abbie’s hand, got the leash, and stood before Eva. I insisted we do something different, but Eva stood her ground, so I let go of Abbie and the leash, took the oven mitts, opened the oven, and took out the casserole. I found paper plates and plastic silver ware and napkins. Amazingly, we took the food out to the car, grabbed Monte, and drove to a park. We tailgated, ate our meal, laughed, and took Monte for a walk. I learned that spontaneity had been missing in our lives. Our lives are ordinary.”

You know, ordinary lives are comfortable for some people. Sometimes, Morton, an injection of something out of the ordinary may soothe the soul. A thought to ponder is now that you dramatically dosed your family with a spontaneous experience, perhaps you may consider a follow-up discussion with Abigail and Eva. Seek their attention. How did each view the experience? Might there be input from all three of you to modify your ordinary ways? My focus is on you, Morton. You are my client. I’m wondering about the source, the seed of your subtle life change. What you have described is the early chapter, perhaps the introduction to your life story. My experience has taught me that there’s more to your story, and it may involve more than your earlier experience. Your body, your emotions, and your psyche offer a glimpse into the soul, the heart of the matter you bring to counseling.

“I think I’m getting a greater sense of what brought me to my PCP and now to you for counseling. You make me realize that I’ve been holding back. Eva and I live our ordinary lives. Each day we follow a routine. I know that Eva and I love each other. At this time in our lives, our comfort and routine are easy. Eva has stuff going on. I’ve neglected to fully support her. She is alone. I’ve been thinking that I am not listening. I don’t think it’s only relatable for counseling. Our marriage is fine, but not really fine. I think our daily routine gets in the way of being more honest. Oh, my God, busted. (he laughs!)”

“You know, talking like we’re doing, we don’t get into the deep end with each other. Our talks are surface stuff. “How was your day?” gets pretty old. There’s more, I’m now realizing, than highlighting events of our day. And what are we teaching Abbie? I guess this counseling can be beneficial to my life. I think I’ve lost hold of who I am and where I’m heading. Same holds true for learning more about Eva’s life. She needs me. Better said, I need to work on trusting Eva to hear about my next chapter. Pretty good, huh? Guess I need to find out more about Eva’s story.”

See you next week, Morton. Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.