Endings. Our lives are full of them; that’s the very definition of mortality. Death is certainly an ending; divorce is too. Moving is an ending, and so is changing jobs.

I’ve heard a lot of stories of late about teenagers in trouble. You name it, they’re doing it. And along with these teens come parents: hurting, scared, angry. The parents want their child to behave; the teen just wants to be left alone (at least, so they say). It’s a recipe for disaster.

“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity”

- Simone Weil

Have you ever wondered if your therapist is angry with you? Did you say something or do something that got an angry reaction? Was there a particular look on his or her face which seemed to indicate anger or frustration?

In my practice, I often use metaphors and stories to illustrate a point. The image of an anchored ship in the ocean, slowly drifting yet somehow also secured in place, serves as a metaphor for a dialectic or mindfulness meditation. Parables about leaps of faith serve to inspire and validate.

What do social workers and shawarma joints have in common?

They’re both open late, offer comfort, and leave an impression with you that lasts through the week.

We social workers have some terminology confusion, some branding obfuscation. I'm sure most of the readers of this blog know what a social worker does. But while doing some networking this weekend (with people less familiar with the mental health field), I ran into some issues.

Once we establish the why of self-care for therapists (see last week’s post), the next question might be: how? But the thought of making a list of self care actions doesn’t appeal to me at the moment. Maybe another post.

One of the things that I stress to my clients is the need for self care. Taking the time to breathe, to pause, to be mindful, to eat right and regularly, to exercise, to laugh.

What is the point of sadness, anxiety, fear? Hope, joy, love?

Do you ever feel stuck in couch potato land? Like you’re in a laziness rut and just can’t seem to get moving? If you have, great - you’re human! (If you haven’t - I’m concerned. Please have that looked at.)

Shavuot. Shavuos. Chag Ha'atzeres. This holiday has many names. (One of my clients referred to it as “the holiday of many cheesecakes”.)

How well can you explain things?

As a therapist, I think this concept is particularly relevant. Many clients come in to my office without a basic emotional vocabulary. We can only understand things that we can describe.

I have become fascinated with the development of spirituality in the human being. Specifically: how do we learn about, understand, and integrate the concept of a Higher Being? How do we learn to relate to this Being? Why do some view this Being as benevolent, malevolent, punishing, promising? Indifferent?

However you go about choosing a therapist, don’t do it this way.

We psychotherapists are in a bit of a bind. We need to care, to care deeply and sincerely, about every person who bares their soul in our offices. On the other hand, we need to take care of ourselves and not let our work adversely affect us.

In my recent spring cleaning travels, I came across many things that I’ve been saving for just the right time. Orange hair spray, for example. And some really cool looking Ferrari totes and stickers. Waiting for just the right time.

‘Twas the night after Pesach, and I’m scratching my beard,
A regular post won’t do - let’s try something weird.
As a sigh of relief leaves the good Jewish cooks
and another Passover hits the history books.

Instead of sharing my half-baked (unleavened?) thoughts on the holiday, here are two quotes I came across over the past two days.

I believe in routines. My Sunday morning routine includes - among other things - going for a run, coffee with friends, and learning with my dad. My father and I have found a compromise between lightning fast (he has been a Daf Yomi magid shiur for over thirty years) and my plodding Chofetz Chaim pace (read: slow as molasses).