With thanks to my friend Wilme who asked me to write for her website. I am honored to do so. Take from it what you will. My partner who loves words and tells bad ‘Dad Jokes’ says I am writing a thlog – a therapy log.

Thoughts on therapy and life.

‘Ring the bell that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack; a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.’ I love those words. They are from a Leonard Cohen song called Anthem. I related to them so much I found a picture I liked in an Op Shop and put the words around it, then I hung it on my counselling room wall and other people related to it in different ways. One man liked the mountain in the picture because it reminded him of home. Another (a committed Christian) liked the font I used to print the words because it had ‘t’s that looked like crosses. That surprised me. Nobody appeared to read it as I did, but that didn’t matter. They took what they needed from it and whenever I looked at it, I felt calm and capable because it reminded me to be kind to myself. And what I know is, that when I am kind to myself, then I am much more able to be kind to others.

We are all flawed: damaged, stained, cracked, in varying degrees. It seems to be the nature of life. We can get to be like worn out crockery; the kind that you find when you excavate an old house site. I find it hugely comforting to be reminded that it is just those flaws and cracks which can allow the light in and this is why I believe in therapy. Because when we are prepared to pay attention to the parts of our ‘self’ which are not clean and whole; when we turn and face the dark, cracked, parts of our self (the parts we don’t like or even hate) by telling someone else honestly about them, then we are able, hopefully, to have compassion for those parts and to begin to heal them. Let the light in. This is hard to do. It helps if we have a witness, a guide and a supporter who we trust, to hold the space in which we do this hard work. I have been honored and humbled to be this person for many people.

I love the idea of the bell ringing. In my mind it holds one high, clear note. There is something profoundly spiritual about the sound. It sits on a mountain top, it rides the wind and it speaks but has no words. It is an absolute statement of belief and something for our ears and our heart to hear, when we are weeping and cannot see for the dark.

Ka kite ano – Mari Daniels
Copyright 28th January 2021

Marrie Daniels, Person centrered and Gestalt trained Counsellor and supervisor, mum of three, grandmother, partner and dear friend.