Co-Counseling or Talking to “Perfect” Strangers (oh no!)

Introduction

Since I want you to support my bid to become the next President of the United States, I should introduce myself to you - personally. Or, at least, as "personally" as possible and appropriate between strangers on a website.

Thanks are in order

Before I share my experiences as a co-counselor (and, equally, as a man who was co-counseled), I want to say "thank you." I know that many of you have read my Blogspot postings with attention and interest. Of course, that doesn't mean you necessarily agree with my politics. But I hope to have at least given my staunchest critics pause. My philosophy? If you can't win ‘em over, at least give ‘em pause.

My views on therapy

I've come to realize that many Americans "do" therapy. And this includes many within my circle of friends & acquaintances. Therapy is a word I loosely use to cover a lot of territory: From those who have long-term commitments to psychotherapists to those who have engaged any one of a variety of professionals due to sudden traumas in their lives, and including those who participate in "the process" in the name of obtaining personal growth.

My views on therapy are colored by my Buddhist practice, which is unique to me (so is, therefore, not a reflection on how the many established Buddhist groups/sects/temples might feel). I've always been skeptical of the bearded, aloof Freudian and his couch. Not that I've ever "gone there," but perhaps because I'd heard too many jokes. Or seen too many movies like Mel Brookes' little gem High Anxiety.

When I learned that many of my fellow Buddhists were participating in some type of therapy, I was surprised. I even called them on it: "Why aren't you chanting to overcome the negative karma which is ‘obviously' at the root of your distress?"

To which they'd reply: "If you had a broken arm, would you chant to overcome that or would you see a doctor?"

I feel (now) that such a response is to compare apples to oranges. However, at the time I didn't argue the point. [Ah, but please notice: that doesn't mean I had actually accepted such an argument.]

My Introduction to Re-evaluation Counseling (aka RC)

Back in the fall of 1999, I was undergoing a stressful time in my life, having decided to end my marriage of 19 years. Some of my Buddhist friends suggested that peer counseling might help me as a forum for talking things out but not by engaging a professional therapist. These friends were convinced that RC's core approach would help me and help me to help others.

Briefly, it goes something like this: Any person should be able to, with a minimum of training in certain ground rules and basic theory, learn how to take turns talking to and then listening to any other person - without interruption - for a pre-agreed period of time, with the purpose of inducing "discharge." [At this point, I direct your attention to http://www.rc.org, especially the Basic RC Theory link.]

Sidebar: I don't want to inject a lot of specific RC theory and background into this post, simply because there's so much already available on the internet - pro and con - for those curious enough to surf this topic.

In order to participate in RC, I had to be screened. This took place at no cost at an RC teacher's home. I was there and so were two other prospects - women whom I had never met before. The RC teacher and her assistant were there, so this made 5 of us in that living room (2 to introduce and 3 to learn and, hopefully, be accepted into the community).

I had my suspicions: Was this a cult? A scam? A lonely-hearts' club? So before I even went to that intro meeting, I did a lot of net surfing and wasn't entirely pleased with what I saw, but I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. I mean, what's the harm in listening to someone else's spiel - who knows? I might even learn something from it.

I Decide to Join RC and am Accepted

I liked the grassroots approach and obvious dedication of the teachers and adherents, and the fact it was cheap. I ended up going back to that RC teacher's apartment for two 8-week classes, costing me $12 per week for one three-hour meeting per week. Babysitters cost more than that! So obviously they weren't out to relieve me of my worldly fortune.

In addition to the once-per-week classes (consisting of lecture and counseling sessions), we were expected to contact our fellow students during the week to arrange for one-on-one sessions at a mutually-agreeable place (usually our homes, but not always).

The first rule we learned was confidentiality. Nothing that came up in a session would ever be discussed or shared outside that session with anyone - not even with the session's participants (unless permission from the counseled was obtained).

How an RC Session Works

Sessions could be one-on-one or in a small or large group. In a one-on-one, we would pair up in class and then go to another room in the apartment in order to share time. That is, if I got to counsel first, that meant I'd get to listen to my partner for (usually) 5 minutes without me interrupting or (most importantly) offering my analysis of what was said.

That was the hardest part to understand at first. We were told that rendering a personal opinion was strictly forbidden because we had to accept that each individual client was smart enough to eventually figure out his own solutions to his own problems on his own - when he was ready to. All he needed from us was our undivided, nonjudgmental, unhurried attention.

Part of the theory was: People don't open up and speak freely because they're constantly afraid of being interrupted, and yet it is the attention of others that we seek and find to be most healing. As soon as we came to learn that we had five (precious!) minutes of someone's undivided attention and that we wouldn't be interrupted, the outpouring of thoughts and emotions quickly followed.

This isn’t to say that the counseled person has to say or do anything. He can just sit there like a bump on a log while his minutes tick away. Knowing one could do that was very empowering, since counselors were never supposed to show impatience or to hint at any kind of expectations.

So, after I had filled the role of counselor for 5 minutes, me and my partner would take a one minute "breather" (transition period), and then it would be my turn to be counseled for five minutes.

My Most Memorable Single Encounter

I spent about seven hours on a Saturday with seven men in order to work on a life story theme. RC theory believes, if men had a chance to speak to other men about their life history, they could overcome biases such as "men fear closeness with other men because they've been raised to see them as potentially hostile competition," or "men are programmed to be strong, silent types who are most praiseworthy when keeping their pain to themselves."

We organized the available time so that each of us would get 40 minutes to sit in front of the group and just talk off the top of our heads. That's it: No holds barred and spontaneous. We could say anything we wanted to. Or say nothing at all. And through it all, because of our training, we had the assurance that seven other men were listening to and processing our words and (most importantly) giving us their undivided attention.

I went second and, like the others (I suppose), didn't know exactly what I'd end up saying. After I was done (that is, when the timer went off), there wasn't a dry eye in the place - except mine! It felt great to have the floor like that, and I suppose it was therapeutic to process like that, but I was amazed at how others reacted to my life story.

I thought: "Wow, in the telling of my tale, I certainly didn't expect this kind of reaction. Does my life suck that badly?"

The Value of having a Regular Co-counselor

We were encouraged to pair up and meet once per week with someone who would agree to regularly co-counsel with us. I was fortunate that this very intelligent woman (in her 30's) was self-employed and, therefore, had flexible hours. We would meet in an empty office for 90 minutes before I had to start work at 11 a.m. Our time-sharing, by mutual agreement in advance, was for 40 minutes each, and this relationship lasted for a year.

She decided to end our sessions because she had too much on her calendar (including time needed to go back to school), and because (quite frankly) she saw diminishing returns in our continuing. That was hard for me, because I felt like I was being abandoned, but I had to agree that she was right.

To be Counselors only

Part of the reason I had left the RC movement was their position on our relationships to each other. That is, if we met in RC, we weren't supposed to connect in any other way. We couldn't invite our co-counselors to our birthday parties, try to sell them insurance, or convert them to our religion. I understood the reason: In order to trust your counselor, you had to be sure they didn't have any ulterior motives.

I saw how the simple idea of taking turns with others in talking and listening could lead to genuine closeness, and I didn't see why friendship couldn't be allowed to develop. Only later did I come to realize that not everybody is like me: I can take "no" for an answer (although, in fairness, I have to add: due to RC, I learned how to take "no" for an answer gracefully). I suppose the RC movement was afraid of jealousy arising when individuals might gravitate toward others. Or hard feelings might come about in the face of rejection.

These are all good considerations.

However, I would challenge RC to this day with this: "You yourselves admit that counseling theory is advancing as we continue to engage in the process and to develop as individuals. So you might well come to develop a theoretical basis complete with rules/protocols by which, someday, co-counselors could become friends while remaining good counseling allies to each other."

Conclusion

I learned a lot from the RC community and found them to be lovely, caring, dedicated people who are truly committed to building that better world most of us only day dream about. I had doctrinal disputes with RCers, but I admired how they tried to evolve a systematic approach to understanding why people end up so distressed and unhappy.

I also admire their personal commitment of time and energy. All in the name of trying to get people to talk to and listen to each other. This even extended to efforts to get Israeli Jews and Palestinian Arabs to take turns listening to each other's stories.

Maybe RCers are on to something: Maybe it won't be mass, impersonal movements that will save the world. Maybe it's more a matter of more one-on-one.

Steven Searle for US President in 2012

Founder of The Independent Contractors’ Party

“There are a lot of ways people can share their humanity; some ways are better than others; and others still are works in progress” – Steve.

Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com