Yalom stated that "Despair is the price one pays for self-awareness. Look deeply into life, and you'll always find despair." As a master's level intern for the University of North Florida counseling center, I have landed the opportunity to co-lead a process group. Amidst this endeavor, I have been challenged to embrace the despair as I learn to cofacilitate in the “here and now” of the group. This has stripped me naked from the comfort of the thought-orientated/ direct style I have adopted in counseling individuals. The group is a laboratory, where I have gotten to try this “new” way of interacting with others. Being vulnerable feels unnatural for me, but without tapping into that dimension of myself, I realize that I am not creating a culture that invites human connection.
Entering an already established process group of all people who identify as women, and who all respect and look towards their male facilitator (my co-facilitator), I felt intimidated. Please note that unexpressed feelings are a key factor contributing to why people experience distress. In the attempt to guard my vulnerability (ignoring Group Therapy 101), members struggled to exist in the “here and now of the group.” As stories plagued with depression of the past and anxieties of the future were shared one by one, I quite honestly grew bored. The group would respond to these stories by quickly filling the space full of pity and sympathy and perhaps proceed to sit in a stale silence. This specific silence was not at all therapeutic; it felt like a hesitation to deliver honesty, fear of judgment, uncertainty, pity, trepidation, or fear of messing up. This did not emulate a climate of trust. With silence, there is no feedback. No learning about how we respond or relate to others; no collaboration or connection. The silence felt like a climate that was deserted of safety and security, not a climate of trust.
After two weeks elapsed, both my seasoned co-facilitator and I decided to come in with a divergent approach. Realizing my responsibility to be a model for effective communication also meant me deciding to do something that felt difficult. I chose to commit to entering the group vulnerable and open, voicing censored thoughts, acknowledging connections, and expressing feelings towards other group members.
For week three, I was devoted to creating the magic of the “here and now” that a process group embodies. This completely shifted the climate of the group. Turning in on myself felt scary. I worried about the unconscious judgments that swooped in and out as each person spoke. To escape the pre-cortical, thinking/reasoning part of my mind and focus on the most raw or primal part of my subconscious felt risky. The risk was well worth the experience. I was infatuated with the outcome. My intentional (yet private) adjustment proved to be forest fire in the group setting. My self-amendment made room for others to jump into the metaphorical pool that we were all sitting on the edge of prior. Focusing on the reactions of members, adding language to tears, and creating a space that is uncensored adds to the experience required for growth. The group had a breakthrough the week I chose to join the group in taking similar risks. Risks that I was encouraging them to take, but not willing to take for myself.
I now acknowledge and invite all of my feelings and reactions into the space. From attraction to hatred (and everything else in between), all are surfaced due to some belief or value that manifests inside of me. As I invite this “despair” into the space, I am achieving a higher level of self-awareness, generating an opportunity for human connection, and establishing a climate for trust.