When I was 20 years old I choreographed a dance; It was comprised of 4 parts. 

I named the parts Celebration, Searching, Knowing, and Being. I remember feeling very passionate about the names of these sections as well as the order. My professor at the time challenged me on the order, inquiring as to why celebration was first. “Wouldn’t you want to end with celebration?,” she wondered. Ultimately, I left the order as it was, adamantly believing that celebration was not the ending, “being” was the ending.

I have thought about this dance often throughout the years. Pondering the meaning of the words, and the significance of the order. 

Now when I sit with clients as a psychotherapist, I find myself returning to this dance in my head time and time again. When I am listening to my clients speak, I am listening for what is not being said, the self that is yet to be accessed, the attachment they experienced, the needs that have not yet been met, the ways they learned to survive, their cognitions, their feelings, and their sensations. I also find myself listening for celebrating, searching, knowing, or being. I have begun to believe that there is something developmental about the order of these words, through a life span or even perhaps in the development of a relationship. 

Clients sometimes begin by expressing celebration. Even when there has been an experience of great trauma, clients will also share their joys, the things in their lives that bring them meaning. Sometimes it looks like resilience; sometimes it looks like a person striving to stay connected and not define themselves by despair; sometimes it looks like fear; sometimes it looks like denial. In each person, in each conversation, in each instance, it looks different, but I always try to listen for it, for the beauty and strength and hope of celebration. 

Celebration is a wonderful place to start and a wonderful place to return to. Expression of celebration can sometimes indicate the beginning of secure attachment, similar to the freedom of play or the connection to emotional expression often associated with the right brain. I often find myself returning to the beginning, to celebration, at the end of a session, celebrating my client’s incredible strengths, and the wisdom of their experiences and bodies, or to celebrate the privilege it is to have been able to collaborate with them in their time of despair. Celebration to me marks a beginning and the more it is reinforced it marks a secure beginning to carry with you and return to. 

Searching. Developmentally we begin to search when we are quite young. When we feel securely attached, searching can feel safe, intriguing, broadening and exciting. Within the therapeutic space it takes on a similar pattern. The more I am able to see a client clearly, to empathize with their experiences, join in their world, and celebrate their existence, the more space is created for someone to begin to search for meaning, search for integration, and search for self. Searching feels different than striving for a goal. Searching is an internal process of mindfulness. It is the ability to know your thoughts, feelings, and sensations and to dialogue with yourself about them. It is through searching that we begin to know ourselves, to differentiate ourselves from our caregivers, to explore the world, and to develop our personal vision for our lives.

Knowing. I used to wear a shirt with the logo of Hampshire College on it and their motto: non satis scire, “To know is not enough.” This was the philosophy of Hampshire College. It is not enough to just know… one needs to live experiences in order to truly understand them. I have always loved this philosophy. It is the philosophy that brought me to Hampshire so many years ago, and the philosophy that encouraged me to dig deep and find the beginning of healing while at college, but there was always one part of the motto that confused me. I remember trying to articulate my questions about the motto throughout my 4 years at Hampshire, but not being able to find the words to express my question. Now I feel as if I can. 

On one hand “to know is not enough;” on the other hand it really needs to be. The moment when one can say “I know I don’t want to do that.” or “I know it is okay to feel what I am feeling,” is the moment that one can feel secure about what they know about themselves, which is essential for healing and continued health. Knowing is the opposite of doubt. I believe that the moments of knowing are, as Pierre Janet calls,  “acts of triumph.” They are the moments when we are able to know our truths and to separate from what we were told and what we needed to believe to survive. Knowing is essential for being. And being, as stated previously, was the ending. 

This is not to imply that being is the end. The dance I made at Hampshire College was finite and had an ending, but the dance of healing is lifelong. It is not linear and it does not conclude. It is ongoing, cyclical, circuitous, wondering, intense, emotional, and imperfect. Maybe being is not the ending at all. Maybe that is the essence of being. It has no beginning and no end, It just is. Maybe we just are and maybe that is enough.