You wouldn't ordinarily think of psychotherapy as a barrel
of laughs. But more often than not, I actually think it should be. Here's why:
It breaks the ice.
My very first session as an intern, I saw a woman whose family had just
experienced a terrible tragedy. As soon as I softly closed the door, she burst
into tears, and apologized for being so emotional. My response? "You might
be interested to know that during my practicum, I found that men actually cry
in session with me more often than women do. But we still don't ask for
directions!" She laughed, the ice was broken, and we started off a long
counseling relationship as equals.
It de-pathologizes
the client. I believe that one of the lowest points in a client's life is
when they realize their struggles are so bad that they need help. The act of
coming to a first therapy session, by its very nature, can feel very shaming.
So I often put myself emotionally at "eye level" with a client with
lines that are actually part of a thoughtfully composed performance to
normalize the situation:
(During the initial phone call) "Here is where we will
meet Thursday. Look for a guy who looks like a typical therapist, with a beard
and glasses."
(On entering the office) "Welcome! Please sit anywhere
you like. One of these days, though, someone is going to sit in my chair, and
then I'm going to have to figure out what to say to them."
(After they sit down) "It wouldn't quite feel like a
counseling session without the paperwork: here is an informed consent form I
would like you to look over and sign."
It opens
communication. Suppose that you take the brave step of opening up to a
counselor about a really tough childhood - or perhaps a bad experience with
another counselor. Very serious subjects. Of course, I will listen intently
and empathize with everything the other person is saying. But sometimes being
too dry and serious can make it hard for a client to share painful experiences.
If I sense that the client is feeling shameful or
embarrassed, sometimes a little gentle humor can send a powerful signal that I
am both listening to them and still like
them. For example, I might say, "Wow, it sounds like you were raised by
wolves! But you found a way to survive - tell me more about it." Or in the
case of the bad counseling experience, I might say, "Sounds like this
person put the 'psycho' in psychotherapy for you. How did you feel?" And
then the other person starts to open up.
It makes tough
messages easier to hear. Suppose a couple is in conflict, and uses harsh
language with each other. I could try telling them to be nicer, of course. Or I
could teach them what kinds of language to use. But when I tell them a funny
story about when I said the wrong thing to my wife - and how badly it turned
out for me - they are listening and learning as I gently make fun of myself.
Of course, I am not implying that you should always take
strong feelings, difficult situations or tragedies and turn them into a barrel
of yuks. There are many times that I am completely serious and focused on
another person's story, or on their pain. But when your gut tells you it is
right, I honestly believe that more humor and more fun leads, in many cases, to
better therapy and stronger client relationships.
My own approach to humor doesn't really spring from what I
learned studying therapy. (In fact, far too often in my past, my own counselors
would sit there in dry silence.) Rather, it springs from my Irish-American
cultural traditions. I'll never forget attending my first family funeral as a
child, trying to sincerely express my sympathies to the relatives - and getting
laughed at. They weren't there to mope and be sad, they were there to have a
party! Everyone laughed heartily and cried heartily, and it was our way of
saying that life goes on and you're OK.
So my advice to fellow therapists would be to try being a
little more Irish, if it suits your personality. A surprising amount of
laughter goes on in my own sessions, and I feel that is a good thing. Try it
yourself and see what happens!
