Thursday, April 28, 2011

The appropriate use of the Hammer,Anvil and Stirrup






Earlier while going through my studies regarding counselling, a topic popped
out which focused on empathy. What exactly is empathy? Based on the book
it's:

When the counsellor is actively attending and receptive when the client is
expressing some aspect of his or her experiencing.
When the counsellor resonates to the directly or indirectly expresed aspects
of the client's experiencing.

It basically means that the counsellor must be able to take time and listen to
the client attentively. The counsellor must also try and intepret what the client
says and try to form an understanding and relate to their expressions mentally.
Regardless of how weird or maladaptive the statement or the behavior of the
client, the counsellor must have an unconditional understanding to why they behave
that way. For instance, a client states that she hates herself and feels the need
to engage in self injury. The counsellor is not to question the client regarding the
behavior nor is she allowed to judge the client. An understanding must be formed
for why the client behaves that way and the counsellor in turn will try and help the
client deal with the issue. Maybe the client was influenced by others, maybe the
client was depressed, maybe the client wanted attention or maybe the client was
suicidal. At this point, the counsellor must put herself in her client's shoes.

Upon reading that section, I began to question my own empathy. It is difficult in a
sense to be empathetic or understanding towards the behaviors of others, expecially
when they deviate severly from the norm. In a world filled with prejudice and
discrimination it is fairly simple to make judgements of people for what they do,
but it takes considerable time and effort to stop for a moment and put yourself
in the judged individual's shoes and form an understanding of their actions. When
our family and friends hurt us or make us sad, we immediately attribute their
behavior to bad intentions and their flawed predispositions (internal reasons).
But sometimes, the cause of people's behavior maybe due to external reasons.
For example:

Your father comes home late and scolds you for not apparent reason. You attribute
his behavior to internal reasons such as short temperedness. But it may infact be
caused by a bad day at work, stuck in a traffic jam or had to deal with difficult people
(external reasons).

You read in the newspaper that this woman was robbed. You attribute the robber's
behavior to aggression, greed and maybe even malice. But it may, maybe the fact is that
the robber had kids to feed? A sick and dying parent to treat? and needed a desperate
solution

One extreme example was cited in a book I once read. The US military managed to
capture some Alqueda suicide bombers and had a few psychologists to question them. To
make an understanding of their behavior. The psychologists had expected the bombers
to be psychotic and deranged individuals. But upon closer inspection, they were timid
and soft spoken people. Antisocial individuals who were outcasts of their society and
were falsely promised that they fought for a cause and were to receive a divine reward.

Truly, with situations like those, it proves to be difficult to be empathetic. But situations
need not always be so hard. Sometimes all our family and friends need is a listening ear,
or some form of understanding on your part. Sometimes the people who care for us most
may hurt us due to external reasons. If it were to be for something internal, it just simply
means that they are not worth our time to begin with. I must confess that sometimes I
may not be the most empathetic of people. I tend to be quick tempered and make quick
and harsh judgements before reasoning with others. For that I apologize my friends :)
Goodnight!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Andrea







On some nights, I dream of you..
But the dreams are never lucid..
These blurred visions of you, somehow always taken
away from me by morning amnesia..
I can never recall what transpired during my sleepy stupor..
The only thing I remember is the sound of your faded scream
calling my name before I awoke..
Due to the haziness of the dream,
I can only hear the last syllable of my name being called..
The voice so mellow and yet so strong, like the sound of muffled thunder on a cloudy day..

I can recall however, your silhouette..
The slenderness of a vixen, with long and wavy hair
that flowed in the gentle breeze like an oak tree in a hurricane..
Your long jet black locks, smell like dessert flowers..
If the scent of your hair was visible to the gullible eye, it would be the colour of violet..
Wafting as you walk, leaving a trail of brilliant violet nothern lightish waves as you pass..
What a magnificent creature you are,
but when I look into your visage,
I only see darkness...
But within that darkness emerge two vermillion red eyes looking back at me..
Eyes so intense like the infinite number of sunrises and sundowns I wish to gaze with you..

You extend your slender arms towards me,
so fair like the rarest of pearls..
I can barely breathe as your gentle delicate hands close in..
With a swift but gentle stroke..
You line the back of your smooth satin fingers from my cheekbone,
down to the side of my neck..
Then I felt it..
A pulse, almost like an exaggerated heartbeat..
An unimaginable force of euphoria, searing across every fibre of my mortal body..

I must have been touched by an Angel...
But what I felt was no Angel..
What I felt was strong..
So strong no one could compare to you, my love..
my Mona Lisa,
my Cleopetra,
my Anastasia,
my Juliet,
my Eve,
my Queen,
my Aphrodite,
my Goddess....

I have yet to meet you my dear..
I have yet to feel your velvety embrace..
Only fate will decide when we will cross paths..
For now, till then my dear..
I'll wait for you in the dark,
or in vain..