Saturday, March 19, 2016


     Sometimes I have to laugh at my own ego. I think that I have the answer to other people's problems - that somehow the books I read have an answer to their troubles. Sure, that information can give some insight into the general, the objective, the well-known, but can anything written in these tomes get to the core of the person? Said otherwise: Might the presentation of a book help a client through their concern? This has, of course, occurred; how else would bibliotherapy be seen as a viable sub-theme of psychotherapy? Of course, people have also found inspiration in books. But inspiration is much different than true insight. Insight requires the addition of a second person who shares goals, but does not share eyes. In this way, therapy is more about communication and undersanding that it is the knowledge gleaned in a classroom. Such knowledge is a frame while listening and understanding is the beautiful painting housed within. Which is the real art? Which took more effort and understanding? That is a difficult question - one that causes science and art to become at odds. I do not, at this time, endeavor to belittle either in favor of the other. Instead, should not the pairing be celebrated?

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