Let’s Take a Hike

Tail wagging, glacial blue eyes staring intensely at her leash, my dog, Daisy,

demands I put on her harness and take her to the nearest park. Doug and Duckie, the

cats, weave in and out of my legs, hopeful I’ll feed them second breakfast – the little

hobbits. My eyes bleary, I haven’t even put on my glasses yet and the sun is just over

the horizon, painting the day in greys through the clouds. The air recently crisped, the

trees shed their summer weight in the wind that hits the house and shakes the limbs.

It’s just another fall morning, in Middle Georgia. I’ve recently started getting into

coffee for the first time in my life and I find myself grateful for it. Prone to feeling cold,

the warm mug is needed to get my fingers moving and body working. It’s the simple

things really – a walk with my dog, a warm drink, watching the cats toil together in

mischief, and the like.

Since entering this field, prioritizing the simplest parts of my day has become a

must. The small things that make ordinary days magical. In this line of work, the content

of our days rarely holds stories of kindness, simplicity, or magic. At times, it can better

be described as teaming up with my clients; two archeologists dedicated to unearthing

truths turned steadfast allies against ghosts. Or whatever might be a better analog.

Don’t hold it against me, the coffee is just now starting to kick in. The point is that our

days are a journey we must take. An adventure if we find the whimsy for it, and a slog if

we let it. I invite you to consider that therapy is also this way. It is what WE make it.

Therapists are not magical, ethereal beings with the power to grant you self-knowledge

and a good “fixing.” Therapists are people and Daisy is the only one convinced I’m

magic. The opposable thumbs, and all. I do not wave magic wands and declare people

have been “fixed.” Rather, I throw on my Chacos and pack my day bag because we’re

going hiking. Daisy wishes it was the weekend, and I was hiking with her, though. Too

bad, it’s raining.

How do you take a hike? One step at a time. Let me back up, though. Good

hikers are prepared hikers. Prepared hikers, survey the route, identify potential

obstacles, distance, elevation, water sources, weather, and other key information.

Similarly, initial sessions of therapy look much the same. Therapists are looking for the

lay of the land but likely do not need minute details of every important event. That’s for

later. In turn, therapists also ensure clients are educated on what they can expect from

the therapist and treatment. The finer points are hammered on the journey.

Now that we’ve done our research and are on the same page, we can meet at

the trailhead to take our first steps. With Daisy, this is when she hops out of the car and pulls the leash the most, just too excited to help herself. On the first steps of therapy

with a new client, we are still figuring out the flow. We may even run into

misunderstandings. Who is navigating? Did we miss a turn? Wait, did you pack snacks,

or are we getting lunch afterwards? Hold up, I thought you said this was an easy hike,

but I just looked at the map. It's a 15-mile loop with 3200 feet of elevation and you didn’t

pack snacks??? All to be expected.

Once those initial bumps in the road are voiced, that’s real the real opportunity

lies. This is the part of the trail where the real magic happens. Sometimes for the first

time, this is where conflicts can be resolved and lead to greater trust. Once people know

you have their backs on the small things, they are more likely to work on the hard

things. They start to see therapy for the team sport that it is. Just like I won’t be

dragging you through the trail, I will wait patiently for you to be ready to take the next

steps.

Sometimes the hills will be so large, we will have to call them what they are –

mountains. More steps will be required to surmount the challenges than previously

thought, but we will do it together. Sometimes a popup thunderstorm will hit, and we will

have to take shelter here for a while to tend to our immediate concerns. Sometimes,

though not as often, you might slip and I will have to call for help, but that doesn’t mean

I won’t take you hiking again. It just means we might need new safety precautions and

thoughtfulness about our next steps. Later, the map might obfuscate key physical features, rendering us utterly surprised to see a waterfall where we thought there was only a stream. You might be thinking, “Well, wouldn’t you have known the waterfall was there?” And I’d have to tell you, “I’ve been on a lot of hikes, some similar to yours, but no two hikes are ever the

same.” Just like the climate impacts the trail, so does your hiking partner affect the hike.

No two people are the same, so neither are our hikes. On these long hikes, we can

explore the landscapes of your mind, without the distractions of everyday life. At its

core, connection is something we all seek.

As you begin to become a competent hiker, you might start bringing hikes to me.

You were always the leader, anyways. I was just here to remind you of such. I’ll still

pack the bags and review the maps, but you are our navigator. Seeing the hikes you

pick gives me a new understanding of how you are performing in your everyday life.

Your assertiveness and confidence are both revered and respected. At this point in the

adventure, gratitude and warmth are hall markers of my feelings toward clients. They

have found an authentic way of being, and I feel honored to share that with them.

Our hikes may at this point be coming to a close as you find new hiking buddies

and trails to explore. I will celebrate your accomplishments and bid you a cheerful

farewell. Some of you might opt to continue taking hikes with me from time to time as a refresher, and you will always be welcome. That’s the thing about hiking. You can

always hike the same trails over and over again and yet somehow find something new

along the way. In fact, from my experience you really have to hike a place a few times,

in different seasons, to really see it. Just ask Dasy. She is still begging for me to take

her. Her brain is not quite wrapped around the fact that I lack the power to control the

rain.

If this extended analogy has made any sense to you, then you might be well

suited to working with me. I tend to view therapy as an adventure – it’s about the

process, not the destination. We grow along the way. You are in charge of your

experience, but I am a guide to support you. Together we create the conditions

necessary for change.