A reflection on therapy, spiritual care, & the deep human questions that don’t go away. Maybe the real question isn’t whether we need care — but what kind of care helps whole humans live whole lives
My first thought in response to your friend's prediction was that I didn't match their optimism about therapy or humans, and then it was, "they must have been lucky to have a good therapist"! I think you're on better ground when you refer to a "safe space for listening" - hopefully in multiple contexts.
My own experience has been similar: I’ve had a couple therapists who were genuinely helpful… and a couple where I left thinking, “Well, that was a bit of a waste.” If someone lands with a good one, that’s a real gift.
That’s probably why I keep coming back to this simple idea of a “safe place ….” Call it therapy, spiritual direction — whatever stream you’re in — if it doesn’t feel steady and safe, not much good happens. And honestly, some of the best companions I’ve known “walk with a limp.” Not messy in a way that spills onto you, but seasoned. Life has worked on them a bit. They’ve been through enough to know when to speak, when to be quiet, and when to just stay.
And here’s the little aside your comment stirs up for me: I wonder how rugged our underlying stories really are — the stories we’re standing on when real life hits. Every stream carries a story about what a human being is. A lot of therapy can lean pretty individualistic — me as a project to fix, optimize, regulate. There’s good in that, for sure. I just don’t know how well that story holds when life caves in and suffering isn’t a “problem to solve” so much as something you have to carry… preferably with others.
Same with our bigger, metaphysical stories — God, meaning, what’s real. Are they sturdy enough to hold grief, ambiguity, injustice? Or do they crack under pressure, leaving people to blame themselves or quietly drifting away?
I’m also pondering a couple of tensions: therapy can sometimes lean toward pathologizing ordinary human struggle, and spiritual direction can sometimes borrow a more clinical posture than it needs. Both have gifts. Both have shadows.
No tidy answers from me. Just this: the story underneath the practice matters a lot — maybe as much as the practice itself.
I appreciate how you refuse the false choice between therapy or spiritual care, and instead name what so many of us feel: we’re whole humans, and the deepest questions don’t disappear just because we’ve learned better language for trauma and nervous systems. I also loved the line about not everything that troubles us being pathology — grief isn’t a cognitive error, and longing isn’t something to “fix,” it’s often the soul reaching for meaning and for God. That’s close to what I’ve been writing about in The Eternal Now — how love, suffering, and even our unanswered questions sit inside a larger reality held by God, not as a tidy explanation but as something sturdy enough to live inside. If any of that connects, I’d love to invite you (and anyone reading) into the conversation here: https://theeternalnowmm.substack.com/p/eternal-love?r=71z4jh
Beautiful and wise!
My first thought in response to your friend's prediction was that I didn't match their optimism about therapy or humans, and then it was, "they must have been lucky to have a good therapist"! I think you're on better ground when you refer to a "safe space for listening" - hopefully in multiple contexts.
Walter, thanks — I really get what you mean.
My own experience has been similar: I’ve had a couple therapists who were genuinely helpful… and a couple where I left thinking, “Well, that was a bit of a waste.” If someone lands with a good one, that’s a real gift.
That’s probably why I keep coming back to this simple idea of a “safe place ….” Call it therapy, spiritual direction — whatever stream you’re in — if it doesn’t feel steady and safe, not much good happens. And honestly, some of the best companions I’ve known “walk with a limp.” Not messy in a way that spills onto you, but seasoned. Life has worked on them a bit. They’ve been through enough to know when to speak, when to be quiet, and when to just stay.
And here’s the little aside your comment stirs up for me: I wonder how rugged our underlying stories really are — the stories we’re standing on when real life hits. Every stream carries a story about what a human being is. A lot of therapy can lean pretty individualistic — me as a project to fix, optimize, regulate. There’s good in that, for sure. I just don’t know how well that story holds when life caves in and suffering isn’t a “problem to solve” so much as something you have to carry… preferably with others.
Same with our bigger, metaphysical stories — God, meaning, what’s real. Are they sturdy enough to hold grief, ambiguity, injustice? Or do they crack under pressure, leaving people to blame themselves or quietly drifting away?
I’m also pondering a couple of tensions: therapy can sometimes lean toward pathologizing ordinary human struggle, and spiritual direction can sometimes borrow a more clinical posture than it needs. Both have gifts. Both have shadows.
No tidy answers from me. Just this: the story underneath the practice matters a lot — maybe as much as the practice itself.
I appreciate how you refuse the false choice between therapy or spiritual care, and instead name what so many of us feel: we’re whole humans, and the deepest questions don’t disappear just because we’ve learned better language for trauma and nervous systems. I also loved the line about not everything that troubles us being pathology — grief isn’t a cognitive error, and longing isn’t something to “fix,” it’s often the soul reaching for meaning and for God. That’s close to what I’ve been writing about in The Eternal Now — how love, suffering, and even our unanswered questions sit inside a larger reality held by God, not as a tidy explanation but as something sturdy enough to live inside. If any of that connects, I’d love to invite you (and anyone reading) into the conversation here: https://theeternalnowmm.substack.com/p/eternal-love?r=71z4jh
Thank you, Thank you for this. Extended comment later.