I was working with my Clinical Supervisor, answering one of his probing questions, and he interrupted my explanation. “I notice you often quote various writers to support your assertions. Do you need other authorities to know what you think and feel? Or trust it?"
I was stunned.
“You have plenty of experience and knowledge,” he said. “That means you have some authority, too, doesn’t it? I’d like you to trust some of your own abilities when you’re with your patients.”
I was still stunned, but he wouldn’t elaborate any further. Nosey bastard.
“Call no man father,” Jesus said.
Today, for me, the most meaningful interpretation of that famous passage is this: no other human being should have the key to my innermost safety, my basic well‑being. If someone wants control of my heart (or if I secretly wish they’d make crucial decisions for me), it’s time to re‑assert good boundaries and move on. (But I should quickly repair my “fences” before my leave.)
I’ll grant you, this one can be tricky; we’re often too independent, stuck in our egos. From time to time, it’s obviously useful (sometimes necessary) to accept an authoritative kick in thebutt. But in the deeper realms of the heart, it’s best if he or she or it wears the Brother or Sister hat, even the Coach hat. Their Master hat had better not be forever hanging on one of your hooks!
Then what is the right way to read and listen, and seek?
I’ve come to feel I should read books the same way I hang out with a good friend: we share and compare tips for the journey. We’re like hobos, reading each other’s graffiti tags for places that are safe, places to avoid.
[Thanks again, Joe.]
Do not seek to follow
in the steps of the wise.
Seek what they sought.
Basho
The Sound of Water
Everyday, people are straying away from churches, and going back to God.
Lenny Bruce
