General Housekeeping
I hope everyone had a lovely holiday and New Year, and has gotten their New Year’s resolutions in order.
We’ve recently gotten back into the swing of things here at TPT, with house mostly in order, though our laundry still manages to be a gargantuan pile that never seem to quite go down.
All posts from 2021-2022 have now gone into the archive. To have full access to read the archive, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
As each month rolls by, the posts from that year will begin to go behind the paywall.
January 2023’s post:
My passion project recently launched on January 1st, and content is slowly filtering in, thanks to years worth of content that never had a permanent home, which it now does.
Coming in March, my serialized novel, Heart of Stone, will start publishing chapters, and the project will last till June of 2025.
To learn more about Inking Out Loud, or click here for Heart of Stone’s brief summary.
If you would like to know more about the subscription and cost breakdown for the book, check it out here.
There will also be essays periodically and poems, which remain the free content.
We also have some additional exciting news, but we’re not sharing that quite yet, as the timing isn’t right. Stay tuned in the next couple of months.
And now, without further ado.
When I think back on the hard work, reading, researching, and learning that went into becoming a therapist, I realize that no amount of schooling prepares you. As in any other aspect of training for the professional world, what to do once you get into the real world is not the same as theory.
We prepare and prepare, and yet in the encounter with another human being, we often can become overwhelmed at the sheer tragedy of internal strife and struggles ordinary people encounter.
Recently, I had a new client come in with a situation I have never encountered before. Often, when we talk about cheating, it’s usually helping the person who has been cheated on. Today, it was the other-person who came in trying to figure out what to do in their situation.
Clients often have the fear of judgement or retribution, and I’m mindful about sharing that I’m a Christian — usually to other religious or Christian clients who appear to need an encouraging word that their faith is not a hindrance, and is free to be shared in our session time without recrimination. Some of us can be judgmental, that is true—I’ve been on the receiving end, though I am usually a much harsher critic of the Christian and his self-righteous claim to holiness than I am the non-christian.
In meeting this new client, I was at a loss, with a profound sadness for how to help them. They’d been in the relationship for more than a decade, and their partner, now free of their marriage, wanted to marry my client. Sometimes, we imagine there may be revulsion or a moral quandary in counseling or consoling another person who finds themselves in the entanglement of cheating. But the client’s concern was how to explain the relationship to friends and family, and most importantly, how this relationship came to be. And to boot, they were also anxious about getting married, as they had never been in a long-term committed relationship.
There should be some clarification, that the relationship was never physical, according to the client, and amounted to phone calls and dates. It was, at its core, according to the client, emotional cheating. This differentiation doesn't make a difference, but it should be noted that the client had some moral hesitations about dating.
There was a noticeable relief as the client unburdened themselves, and I didn’t feel a rejection toward this person, but a sadness, for the situation they had found themselves in —and sadly yes, one they had gotten themselves into of their own free will — and the burden of a conscience that was only beginning to open itself up.
Time will tell if this client stays and strives to work on the knots they find themselves in; but their issues are very human ones, and ultimately, it will be their decision to stay or end the relationship.
Being a counselor is a tough job; we have our thoughts and opinions, and an inordinate amount of weight and power given to us by the people that let us into their lives, often a power I don’t think many of us really deserve. Most try to wield it responsibly, and some get high off that power; others, who haven’t done enough of their own personal work try to work through their problems out through their clients, rather than being the support the clients need them to be. Sometimes, the client’s needs are significantly greater than we, or any one person can provide, and we get crushed under the weight of it. That is, if we don’t take care of ourselves.
Ethics and Moral Guidelines
When morally questionable situations arise that test our boundaries, as counselors—for anyone else who’s out there in the mental health field—it is important to remember that we are striving for the good of the patient/client. My graduate school did not require us to take any kind of a Hippocratic oath; frankly, that isn’t done anymore, or at the very least, it isn’t terribly common.
For reference, the oath reads:1
I swear by Apollo the physician, and Aesculapius the surgeon, likewise Hygeia and Panacea, and call all the gods and goddesses to witness, that I will observe and keep this underwritten oath, to the utmost of my power and judgment.
I will reverence my master who taught me the art. Equally with my parents, will I allow him things necessary for his support, and will consider his sons as brothers. I will teach them my art without reward or agreement; and I will impart all my acquirement, instructions, and whatever I know, to my master’s children, as to my own; and likewise to all my pupils, who shall bind and tie themselves by a professional oath, but to none else.
With regard to healing the sick, I will devise and order for them the best diet, according to my judgment and means; and I will take care that they suffer no hurt or damage. Nor shall any man’s entreaty prevail upon me to administer poison to anyone; neither will I counsel any man to do so. Moreover, I will give no sort of medicine to any pregnant woman, with a view to destroy the child. Further, I will comport myself and use my knowledge in a godly manner.
I will not cut for the stone,but will commit that affair entirely to the surgeons.
Whatsoever house I may enter, my visit shall be for the convenience and advantage of the patient; and I will willingly refrain from doing any injury or wrong from falsehood, and (in an especial manner) from acts of an amorous nature, whatever may be the rank of those who it may be my duty to cure, whether mistress or servant, bond or free.
Whatever, in the course of my practice, I may see or hear (even when not invited), whatever I may happen to obtain knowledge of, if it be not proper to repeat it, I will keep sacred and secret within my own breast. If I faithfully observe this oath, may I thrive and prosper in my fortune and profession, and live in the estimation of posterity; or on breach thereof, may the reverse be my fate!”
It is interesting to note that the ancient oath makes a specific note of not performing an abortion, having romantic intentions or a relationship with patients, and to keep the trust of the client through doctor/patient privilege.
Today’s current ethics codes prohibit some form of provision against romantic relationships with clients or betraying their confidence. The ACA’s counseling ethics guidelines can be found here.
For myself, the closest I’ve ever come to saying an oath was to read aloud this paragraph to myself, in an online class, and discuss my feelings on the subject. Without warning we were given this oath to swear. In principle, I don’t disagree with what it’s trying to accomplish—fairness, equal treatment, encouraging others who have a calling to the profession to consider it, across the spectrum of race, religion, culture, and ethnicity.
But as a Christian, I know full damn well that you don’t swear oaths, for fealty to God, spiritual, and supernatural reasons. It puts us into hot water by making agreements with things we shouldn’t.
In addition, there is nothing in here about dealing with moral issues, care for the client’s ultimate good, or any of the language, regardless of how archaic it is, that speaks to that outward orientation toward “care”.
I did not say the oath.
When the guidelines don’t help
We aren’t to pass moral judgments on our clients, which sounds like a tricky think to accomplish fora Christian, hence why I chose this topic for today. The ethics code doesn't give clear boundaries on how to counsel someone who has committed a sin by whatever religious moral framework you use, or committed a wrong, especially and in particular because the ACA, APA, and other guiding health associations, unless they have it stated they are “X” religion or philosophy in their bylaws and professional guidlines. It becomes difficult to explain why an action is wrong, without Christianity, or why we have a sense of injustice over actions, if there isn’t a moral framework that we all agree on that determines right from wrong behavior. Without an understanding of a basis for the natural law, even then we enter murky water to define what is wrong and right.
In the ethics code, there are some explicitly stated examples, such as instances of abuse, intent to harm self (self-harm, suicidality) and intent to harm others (homicidality).
I lost a few subscribers with my last post, probably because I discussed Christianity in more depth, and probably because they were newer subscribers who aren’t used to what I write. I bring this issues up because the philosophical bind I find myself in, whether I was a Christian or not, is one that we all must face.
Making a judgment is not necessarily a bad thing, and there isn’t a moral significance to it. If I decide that I don’t want eat a piece of bread that looks like it has mold on it, that’s a judgement. We have to be specific in our judgments, because some, as in the example above, are good and useful, and we cannot condemn all of them.
But we do have to content with others who, for whatever reason, wrestle with their conscience over actions they have or haven’t committed. If there isn’t at least a basis for the nature law, why then do we have a conscience that pokes at us when we’ve committed a wrong? That’s greater than the scope I’m going to cover today, but on an intrinsic level, there is a base understanding that some things are wrong and others may have more gray areas.
Living in the Grays, or, Being the Light
There will always be actions people take that we disagree with and all of us has free will to do as we wish. There are consequences with actions, but we bear those out, some with greater grace than others.
When people seek out others, it is to find comfort, and a safe resting place—to be affirmed, to be healed, to be accepted. At the end of the day, I’m not God, and my judgments lead nowhere. It is not my job to help my client develop insight, especially if that isn’t a goal they’ve set for themselves. It is to be the arbiter of a safe place, to emanate warmth, love, and kindness—when they are lost or distraught.
Because each of us is painfully human in our humanity—as my husband says, “your humanity is showing”.
There are some moral absolutes, and I say this from the framework that guides my behaviors and actions. But there is a great deal of confusion, among the religious and non-, for their emotions often get in the way of what they think they need to do and what their heart feels.
For this client, her initial issue was that she struggles with making decisions, not the emotional affair. We set her goals, I draw up her treatment plan, and every eight weeks, we reassess where she is and how she feels. She may never develop the insight as to why she is a people pleaser and struggles to make decisions — it’s clear from her backstory what may be the root of it. For now, it is helping her sort how to decide what she wants to herself, and when her quiet anxieties about her dating relationship to her fiancé arise, we handle them carefully and patiently together.
None of us is perfect, and so I do my best to be the salt and the light— The Reed of God, as Caryl Houselander put it—for each person who walks through my office door and trusts me with their inner thoughts. To be ethical, yes, but to be a calm, kind, and loving presence that communicates “Here you may rest before you continue on.”
A new AI program, after being exposed to all the written works of Martin Seligman and Esther Perel, can now be used to speak to people who wish to receive nuggets of wisdom, once these brilliant minds are gone.
AI isn’t going anywhere, but as much of a comfort as these types of programs can seem, including the ability to chat with dead historical figures at Hello History, courtesy of the same process. As interesting as it is for a concept, speaking and interacting with a real person can’t be fully replaced by an AI experience, as
documented inFor some of books on AI and robots in fiction:
The Silver Metal Lover by Tanith Lee
City by Clifford D. Simak
The Positronic Man by Isaac Asimov
2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke
Till next time.
Pax Christi 🕊️
Rachael Varca is a pre-licensed therapist and writer of more than fifteen years experience. She writes at The Practical Therapist and Inking Out Loud, a collection of essays, poems, and home of the serialized novel, Heart of Stone. Find her on Instagram.
McCullough Scholars, Hippocratic Oath
New to the stack. Grateful to see more Christians take up the pen here from a lot of different angles!