A new term has creeped into the psychological lexicon within the last few years. I first encountered it when the then-president of the APA, Dilip Jeste, M.D. presented a paper on Positive Psychology, as if the term were something entirely new.
A bit concerned about its perceived “newness” I queried Google and was surprised to read that Google also referenced its recent emergence. But Google also credits ancient philosophical traditions, such as the Greek concept of eudaimonia, as well as humanistic psychology and theorists including Martin Seligman, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Christopher Peterson.
In a recent session, a college student-patient mentioned that they are taking a Positive Psychology course centered on the study of human flourishing and reaching one’s potential. The course emphasizes the identification and development of individual strengths, rather than focusing on on problems and weaknesses (in any given individual).
According to the portion of the Hebrew Bible Ecclesiastes there is nothing new under the sun. (Why we persist in giving new names to phenomenon that have already been identified is a question for later exploration.)
Rather than getting bogged down in the above question, the real question is: Why isn’t all (or most) psychological help/psychotherapy focused on positivity?
After all, as Freud’s message is often summarized, the goal is to love and to work—to relieve neurotic suffering and learn to experience the suffering common to human beings.
Neo-Freudians like Karen Horney and many who followed emphasized the importance of living a gratifying, authentic life rather than one imposed by role models and societal expectations.
Individuals seek therapy because they are unhappy and/or experience a block in their path. They may feel unanchored, unsure of what they want in their careers or relationships. As therapists, we aim to help them identify the obstacles.
The psychotherapist’s task is ideally always positive: to help/encourage/support/mirror/guide and educate (as the origin of the word suggests, to guide in a positive direction). Sadly, that isn’t always the case. I offer two personal vignettes to illustrate when therapy falls short of being positive.
During med school, I consulted the school psychiatrist. I don’t remember what my issue was at the time. But he immediately said with an air of authority, “I know what your problem is: YOU ARE PREGNANT!” His response was so out-base, and inappropriate that I realized his problems were far bigger than mine! Stunned by his presumptuous remark, I decided against seeking further psychological help.
(Other women medical students must have had a similar experience with him because I heard that he was dismissed from his job after no one knows how many people he led astray.)
During my psychoanalytic training, the first psychoanalyst assigned to me, Dr. P., grew overwhelmed as I became increasingly depressed and feared that I wouldn’t be able to function in my roles as psychiatric resident and mother. When I told him I had to stop treatment for a while, he said abruptly, “Just don’t come back.”
My life circumstances were very difficult. I was in an abusive marriage and contemplating a divorce. Dr. P may have been hampered by his countertransference, perhaps viewing me as one of his daughters. He even said that he didn’t think any man would want a woman with two children. Ultimately, my situation proved too much for him to handle.
Devastated and lost, I made an appointment with Dr. S, a hypnotherapist who had taught a class on hypnotherapy during my residency. During our consultation he advised that due to my high susceptibility to hypnosis, psychoanalysis might not be the best choice of treatment for me
I began an alternative treatment—gestalt therapy—that was more supportive and helped me get through this difficult period of my life.
About a later, I received a call inviting me to return to the psychoanalytic institute to be treated by another psychoanalyst. Curious and hoping to complete my psychoanalytic education, I accepted the chance to try again.
The next psychoanalyst, Dr. Van Bark, was enormously helpful. Despite having similar training to Dr. P., her perceptivity and life experience made all the difference. She grasped my issues and knew how to engage me, to form a meaningful dialogue in a supportive alliance, to question and guide with sufficient accuracy for me to trust her.
COMPLEXITY
So, unfortunately, dear reader, you can see the complexity of the situation: the brand or label of treatment may not be the last word about what will be most helpful to a particular client. More important may be the therapist, their personal outlook, perceptivity and life experience. Essential is the dialogue between client and therapist: to hear and perceive each other in a deep, meaningful, encouraging way.
Duke Ellington once said, “There are only two kinds of music—good music and bad music. I like both kinds.”. I think what he meant is that one can learn from each.
Maybe we can make an analogy about therapy. My first analytic experience with Dr. P, although painful, led me into another psychotherapeutic approach that added to my psychological toolbox.
Conclusion: Effective psychotherapy or analysis should fundamentally be positive. If a client doesn’t feel encouraged, optimistic and supported within the therapeutic relationship, regardless of its approach or label, it may be wise to move on.
Dear Reader, I welcome your comments.
Jsimon145@gmail.com
