So here we have a real, famous, old man (Ian McKellen at 76) playing the part of a fictional famous very old man – fast sliding into senility (Sherlock Holmes at 93). A not-famous old man (Frank Rubenfeld at 78) is writing this review.
The plot thickens, since Holmes is portrayed as a real detective who has become famous thanks to his companion Dr. Watson, who wrote many novels about Holmes ingeniously solving one lurid case after another.
In some notion of therapy
you will travel your landscapes
tread furious your loops, and
unearth your desires.
That stain on the ceiling
might bear down like a demon
while I nod in the dimness
taking notes, saying little
so you come forward again,
that I may know you.
This is a review by a man who was eleven (the age of Riley, the protagonist of the movie) back in the forties. I was a refugee from Nazi-occupied France, who grew up loving radio, Disney films, and so many other aspects of American culture. I thought my perspective might interest you.
I’ve seen a host of Disney films in my day, and regard them as reflecting and shaping American consciousness. Inside Out is a remarkable film in many respects. Created with the close consultation of two psychologists from the Bay Area, it attempts to influence how kids and their parents think about their emotions and inner lives. An animated film that ventures into that sphere is remarkable in its own right; this one does so with humor, imagination, and compassion and has gained a huge following. It deserves all the kudos it has garnered.
Is not a weakness, a passing indisposition, or something we can arrange to do without, vulnerability is not a choice , vulnerability is the underlying, ever present and abiding under-current of our natural state. To run from vulnerability is to run from the essence of our nature, the attempt to be invulnerable is the vain attempt to be something we are not and most especially, to close off our understanding of the grief of others. More seriously, refusing our vulnerability we refuse the help needed at every turn of our existence and immobilize the essential, tidal and conversational foundations of our identity.
The Constitution changes thanks to its amendments. The consciousness of the citizenry changes over time, leading to new amendments. The Constitution as a structure allows the consciousness of the people to change it.
At the core of the Constitution lies the issue of balancing collective obligations with individual rights. That remains an ongoing, universal concern. The Constitution doesn’t provide us with definitive answers as to what that balance should be; instead it provides a structure permitting a discussion to unfold on that topic generation after generation.
I am a new, somewhat bleary-eyed parent, and my 9-month old is crawling around and taking delight in the seemingly smallest things—the change in texture from the rug to the tile floor, the tiny tag hanging from his bouncy chair, the way my face looks different when I put on my glasses. Without fail, each of these new experiences causes him to slow down, really take notice, and use all of his senses to touch, see, smell, hear and taste it (especially tasting!!). As he follows his natural curiosity, he often moves his whole body in an outward expression of delight. While he is discovering each thing in his world for the very first time ever (pretty trippy if you actually stop to think about it), I am aware of how much of my own curiosity and desire to discover new things is buried under the many mental concepts, historical patterns, and survival strategies that I have learned over the past four decades of my life.
There’s a point in a relationship when you feel like a nuclear bomb is about to explode inside your throat. Like you’ve swallowed liters of Pepsi and chased them with Alka-Seltzer. Like Miley Cyrus is swinging on that good old wrecking ball of hers, aiming for your pathetic little heart.
This is the horrifying instant, in which the words “I love you,” want to pull a geographic from your mouth, and into the perfectly shaped ears of your beloved.
Some of us relish hearing and saying these words. We feel brave, uplifted, open, and closer to our partners. Brene Brown defines vulnerability as “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.” If this isn’t it, I don’t know what is.
This science fiction cum philosophical thriller of a movie may very well erotically and intellectually titillate a strata of the population that I would identify as “young male techies”. I do not fit into two of the three categories I just mentioned, but nevertheless I enjoyed it.
The babes are not the youngsters that Victor Herbert was referring to in his 1903 operetta. No, they are fully formed sometimes frontally nude androids, sporting female characteristics. They are the babes, and they are the toys.
I am known for my calm and patient demeanor, but when someone cuts me off in a car, I can make Mt St. Helens’ eruptions, look tranquil and relaxed. I have experienced and witnessed a lot of horrific road-rage incidents in my life. One thing I’ve noticed is that these encounters stay with me for weeks, or even months. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) estimates that 30 percent of all drivers feel threated by aggressive road-rage type incidents at least once every month and 1,500 people die each year from incidents directly due to road-rage.
Pronoun switcheroos. We all do this. It’s never so obvious as when I’m sitting with clients.
“You know, you want to feel like he’s thinking about you, like you matter.”
“You want to make sure that you have enough money, you don’t want to just jump into anything. What if it doesn’t work out?”
“You like to think you’d be treated a little better.”
We all know they’re not talking about me. This is therapy and I’m the therapist, so surely they’re talking about themselves. I’ve also heard the “we” used this way, as in: “in what way do we try to separate ourselves from our experience using language.”
This is the latest published (in English) short story by Haruki Murakami, and is part of the 90th Anniversary issue of the New Yorker. It’s the only fiction piece in that giant issue, and reflects his standing in the New Yorker pantheon of contemporary writers.
“Kino”, is the title of the story and the name of the protagonist. I’ve chosen to free-associate/write about it because I find it so mysterious and magical. Those qualities are typical in the works of the author. But this time around, I found a kind of order in the mystery.
Last fall, I was at a party that was a reunion of sorts, with my engineering undergraduate classmates, many of whom I hadn’t seen for more than two decades. They were all quite fascinated with my 180 degree turn from engineering to the field of psychotherapy. One of my friends asked me what I had learned about the human condition, based on my experience as a therapist. I struggled to answer the question, since I’d always seen each individual as having a uniquely subjective experience.
My friend’s question got me thinking, however, if there were any broad commonalities that I could draw from the hundreds of individuals and couples I had seen thus far; And indeed, there are several I could think of. In this article, I will focus on one very important cause of human suffering that brings many clients to the therapy room. This particular conditions, also happens to be one of the central foci of Gestalt Therapy.
The spring equinox marks the arrival of a planetary journey of massive proportions. At this juncture, darkness and light own equal parts of the day, and the sun rises in the east, travels across the sky for twelve hours, to set in the west.
The spring equinox heralds the sun out of Pisces, into the sign of Aries, where new growth can take place, and our dreams, visions, hopes and hallucinations are being called upon to take form in the physical.
I was thinking today about the burden that dads bear in our society today. Dads are expected to be more involved with the caretaking of their child after so many years of being seen as the bread winner. This change doesn’t happen overnight. There are generations of momentum to work against. It takes time for the transition.
Men are sent mixed messages about being in touch with their emotions. They are supposed to be more emotional in this day and age and then also, if they are, they are seen as too feminine.
No is the most powerful word in the English language. It is the best, kindest, most versatile utterance in the history of human utterances. And it can save your relationships.
If the word no was a Russian tea doll, you’d find another word just inside, and that word is “boundaries.” As a gestalt therapist, I’ve seen how improving boundaries can help couples create happier, healthier and more dynamic connections.
Anybody with skin knows what a boundary is.
The borders of our skin mark where we end and where everything else begins. We almost always notice when this boundary has been violated because there is blood, pain and vital organs spilling onto the floor of our favorite coffee shop.
“Her” impacted me on so many levels. And the tremors continued well after the day after I saw it.
From the aesthetic point of view, I found the color palette, the shots of the city at night, the way the people were dressed, very attractive and engaging. The acting was uniformly excellent, making it that much easier to step into this near future world.
What is Gestalt?
Gestalt is a way of living my life. Taking responsibility for who I am and what emerges in me moment to moment. I pay attention to what I feel, what I sense, what I think and fantasize. I track what excites me and follow the beckoning of my excitement. I listen to what I am doing habitually and track when my habits are getting in the way of living my life authentically.
Book One of the six volume work “My Struggle” by Karl Ove Knausgaard, begins with a two sentence description of life and death in terms of a beating (or non-beating) heart. More than the last half of the book (close to three hundred pages) follows Karl being informed of his father’s death and then together with his brother Yngve literally cleaning up the unholy mess their father left behind, while arranging his funeral. He had been an alcoholic who drank and drank until his heart finally gave out.
Recently my beloved and I were at the grocery store, shopping for a dinner party. We have done this before but something about this outing was different.
“We already have an onion,” my partner said to me in the produce section, followed up by, “We don’t need that large a chocolate cake—let’s buy the smaller cheesecake instead.” It went on and on like this throughout the store. Finally, in the meat section, things came to a head over a pork roast I was getting. “I think that is too much meat,” my non-cooking lover said.
