Well, to make a long story short, I was glad for a break. Yet what occurred surprised me. I was dutifully writing out clinical notes after a counseling session. The procedure was routine and somewhat mundane. However, on that particular September afternoon, I found myself writing something different than usual. Instead of the prosaic, pathological, and intervention language I normally transcribed onto an 81/2 by 11 yellow-sheeted legal pad, I found new words were flowing from my pen. It was almost as if they were demanding a life of their own and I had the power to make their appearance possible and positive or I could simply ignore them. I chose the former course because I must admit I was charged up already and excited to see where the process would go.

     I had been working as a counselor for about 18 months and this was not the first time I had had other than clinical words come to mind. However, this occasion was the first time I openly entertained the thoughts and emotions that seem to lie just below the surface of my professional self. Thus as the sunlight peaked through the clouds and played in the yellow and orange Maple leaves outside my window, I wrote down the following sentences.
 

In the midst of a day that has brought mainly gray skies

Hard rains, and two cups of lukewarm coffee

You come to me with Disney wishes

Wanting me to change into

A Houdini figure, with Daniel Boone's style,

Prince Charming's grace, and Abe Lincoln's wisdom,

Who with magic words, a special wand, frontier spirit, and perhaps a smile

Can cure all trouble in a flash.

But reality sits in a green-cushioned chair, lightning has struck a nearby tree,

Yesterday ended another month, I'm uncomfortable sometimes in silence,

And unlike fantasy figures, I can't always be what you see in your mind.

     counseling is an art (as well as a science), and we who are in and who teach in the profession must and should pay attention to that artistic side of our discipline as well as that artistic side of ourselves if we are to be complete and competent. Unless we do, we will be mechanical and in the long run less than our best. So tonight, I want to emphasize counseling as an art and what seeing the profession through such lenses can do for us. Although there are multiple advantages such a position can bring, I will limit my remarks to two main areas --- an understanding of our clients and an understanding of ourselves.

     The process of understanding our clients is a constant challenge. Extending and displaying empathy is easier said than done or as the Beatles used to sing: "Gotta pay your dues, if you want to sing the blues, and you know it don't come easy." Yet if we can be empathetic, all the better for our clients and for our practice as counselors. One way I have found that increases the possibility of setting up the core conditions, such as empathy, congruence, and acceptance is the use of the arts, especially as clients display them.

     From that epiphany moment, I described earlier until now; I have included on my intake forms a place for clients to describe any artistic interests they have. I always make note of that fact both mentally and in conversation. It has helped me immensely on a variety of occasions. For example, I once worked with a young man who played the guitar for a hobby. I asked him in our intake if there was anything he wanted to say with the guitar since his speech was limited. He said he would think about it, and in the next session, he came in with the guitar and simply said: "Listen."

     Then he played some of the most dramatic music I have heard from a guitar in my life. It started off quietly but reached a crescendo that was loud, off key, and unsettling.

"That's my life," he said after the piece was concluded.

Seizing the moment, I replied: "On which note would you like to begin?"

     He picked a section most on his mind and the time and we were off. He would play and talk. We would look at variations on themes. He would try some new cords on occasion and for weeks he brought in his guitar and we worked through his life. Interestingly enough, the music not only became mellower in our sessions but he came to be in greater harmony with his surroundings as well.

     On another occasion, I worked with an older woman. She had had a terrible life and was destitute and distraught. She was also dying. The facts were pretty plain and straightforward but she had not been able to resolve her grief or get relief from the troubles that had surrounded her. In the midst of a rather depressing session, I surprised her and myself too by saying: "So what do you do for fun?"

     "Fun" was not a theme running through this woman's life and to introduce it was a bit bizarre but after looking at me with rather sobering eyes, she said: "I sew."

     "I don't" I replied "But I know that sewing is an art and I've always admired people who could do it. Would you bring some of your sewing into the sessions?"

     She agreed to and the next time as she told me about her work, I asked if she was still actively engaged in sewing. "Yes," she responded. As we talked, she came up with an idea of sewing a square patch of cloth for our sessions that represented something she wanted to resolve. From then on she came in with patches that represented different adverse aspects of her life, such as for the death of one of her children, her divorce, the loss of her energy, the pain of poverty. There were a few positive patches that she brought in also, like the memory of a special friend from adolescence and a trip she had made to New York City.

     One day she came without a patch but with a brown paper grocery bag. I kidded her that she must have sewn all night. In all seriousness, she replied that she had. Then she reached down into the sack and brought out a small patchwork quilt. It contained all of her pain and the few bright spots in her life. It was not elegant but it was beautiful. At the top, she had embroidered the word "PEACE."

"I'm at peace, " she said. "I can now face life or death with serenity."

     A month later she had died. I was saddened by her demise but I knew she had left her bitterness behind because through her art of sewing she had made connections in her life that allowed her to grow and accept herself and find some meaning in her existence instead of just pain.

     Our clients are not the only ones who benefit from art in counseling. We as counselors do also. I have spoken with a number of counselors in a variety of settings who now use the arts in their lives in a variety of ways. Some of the arts they employ in their work but a great many utilize the arts in exploring parts of themselves they would have otherwise left untouched. James Guy in his book, The Personal Life of Psychotherapists, cites how professional helpers often do not seek help themselves for obvious needs. Thus, they suffer silently with depression, anxiety, guilt, and a host of negative feelings that impair their functioning and effectiveness. I would not be truthful with you if I did not say I was at one time among Guy's numbers.

     However, I have found as many of you have that art has a part in making us mentally healthy and keeping us that way. Many counselors move/dance/jog on a regular basis. (After all since counseling is a moving experience, why shouldn't counselors be movers and sometimes shakers?). Other professionals draw and paint. I once had a colleague who was a terrible artist but he loved the medium. He finally compromised in expressing himself by using paint by the numbers artwork. It gave him a sense of satisfaction in being productive and as he said: "We all need help with something in our lives. I can receive as well as give."

      On a personal level, I write. As I related earlier, I did not start out to do this but found that it came naturally and I have tried to cultivate it over the years. Sometimes it has brought me great joy. One time, however, it brought me surprise when I was interviewing for a job at a prestigious university. (A position I did not get I might add). Upon reading my vita the dean of the school said: "I see you write a lot."

Being a bit prideful I replied: "Yes. I find it very therapeutic."

Then looking me straight in the eye, the dean commented: "You must be very sick."

     I wanted to say, "But I'm getting better" but I didn't. I can tell you that the art of writing, especially writing poetry, has helped me in at least a couple of ways that while unique are also universal in regard to the employment of all the arts in counseling.

     First, writing has helped me gain a perspective on who I am as a counselor. It has helped me deal with my prideful and absurd moments as well as my fallibility. I recognized this in a poem I once wrote on another rainy day. The title of it was "Here and Now" and while my initial counselor training was Rogerian, you don't have to be a descendant of Carl Rogers in any way to see what was going on in my mind at the time. To say I was struggling in dealing with my feelings of competence is to understate the case. The poem went like this.
 

I feel at times that I'm wasting my mind

As we wade through your thoughts and emotions.

With my skills I could be in a world-renowned clinic

With a plush padded office, a soft swivel chair,

And a sharp secretary at my command.

Instead of here in a pink cinderblock room

Where it leaks when it rains and the noise seeps under the door like water.

But then in leaving you pause at the door, your voice spilling out in a whisper:

"Thanks for being here when I hurt."

At that moment my fantasies end as reality like a wellspring begins

Filling me with life-giving knowledge as it cascades through my mind

That in meeting you when you're flooded with pain

I discover myself.

I walk thoughtfully down Beecher Road

at the end of a summer of too little growth,

the autumn wind stirring around me

orange remnants of once green leaves.

I am the son of a fourth-grade teacher

And a man who dabbled in business,

A descendant of Virginia farmers

And open-minded Baptists,

The husband of a Connecticut woman

The father of preschoolers.

Youngest of three, I am a trinity –

Counselor, teacher, writer.

Amid the cold, I approach home

Midlife is full of surprises.

     In the Broadway hit of some years ago "Damn Yankees," there was a song entitled: "You gotta have heart." I would simply say in relationship to that tune and counseling that "You gotta have art" as well as scientific theory and process if you are to be complete as a counselor. Art is the creativity that can propel you and your clients into new dimensions and free you for new possibilities.

     Art is the expression of the essence of oneself. Whether through music, dance/movement, writing/reading, performing drama, drawing/painting, or other means, art is essential to human life and to the lives of counselors and clients. Art promotes relationships with oneself and with others. Art empowers the slow to move, the unenlightened to see, the hard of hearing an opportunity to listen and find harmony.

     I began this address in describing how I discovered the potency of art once I allowed it to occur in me. However, you don't need thunderstorms, lightning, and electrical outages in order to find out the many uses of art for yourself and your clients. You simply need time and courage to allow yourself an opportunity to learn how art can be transformational and enriching. If you do the creativity that is counseling can become a more vital part of your life and those Disney wishes that your clients have will become less demanding as you truly discover who you can be.