It matters that people have a way to use the latest findings in psychology beyond buying a pill for depression. It matters that people have a way of looking at their lives that lets them ask the big questions and determine how they want to live – and that this is supported by therapists and mental health professionals.

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Posts tagged with the category Veronica Lac

At the recent Society for Humanistic Psychology Conference in Chicago, Theopia Jackson’s keynote speech challenged the Humanistic Psychology community to wake up to the realities of their privileges. It was a heartfelt plea to honor not only the multiculturalism and diversity of the clients that we serve, but also within the community itself...
Photo by Joe Crawford.
To the woman in line at the check out this morning: It was sweet of you to strike up a conversation with me this morning as we waited in line. I saw the surprise on your face when I started to speak. Your eyebrows furrowed and your forehead crinkled while you tilted your head to the side in your attempt to focus your listening. You smiled at me...
Photo by Libi Fishman.
As a child, I drove my parents crazy with my constant stream of questions. “Why? What if? How come?” I know my friends with kids can relate to the exhausting process of fielding random questions with convincing enough answers. At times, it must be easier to ask for some quiet time and answer with “Because I said so.” I woke...
When did giving up something for Lent turn into something self-serving? As a child, it was drilled into me through my Catholic upbringing that Lent was about giving up something valuable to us, so that we may appreciate the sacrifices of Christ during his 40 days and nights in the desert. So we would abstain from chocolate or candy, or give our...
Mr. Bill and Georgia.
This weekend, I attended the funeral for a wonderful man I knew as “Mr. Bill.” I work as a therapeutic riding instructor teaching kids with emotional, cognitive, and physical challenges the art of horseback riding. The program is supported by an army of volunteers who dedicate their time and energy into ensuring that the horses are...
No doubt, countless articles have already been written in the aftermath of the Grand Jury’s decision not to indict Darren Wilson for shooting Michael Brown. No doubt, there are polarized opinions on whether this was the “right” decision. No doubt, the people of Ferguson are reeling from the impact of this decision. And soon, if...
Photo by Veronica Lac.
Alice* had first come to see me for weekly equine assisted therapy sessions as part of her intensive outpatient treatment at the eating disorders clinic I partner with. For 10 months, we had worked together battling through the demons that held her prisoner. For 10 months, she had painstakingly clawed her way back to a healthy weight, battled her...
I get attached easily: to places, people, and animals. When I feel a connection, I work hard at maintaining it and I hold on tight to what feels precious to me. That’s not to say that I’m not able to adapt to new situations—just that it takes me a little while to accept and grieve what I have lost. These past 18 months have been...
When was the last time you cried? How long did you allow yourself to cry before putting the lid back on? Did it take you by surprise? Did you feel it building up and flowing over? Did you quickly wipe away your tears, or did you allow them to linger on your cheeks? I am intrigued by how people cry. Often, I watch them holding their breath in the...
I recently wrote about my struggles with small talk, particularly in answering questions about where I am from. As someone who is a bit of a nomad, it’s difficult for me to lay claim to a “hometown.” Including some stints in temporary accommodation, I have lived in seven residences, in six cities and three countries over the last...
There have been distinct grumblings recently in the Midwestern suburban bubble that I live in. A new family moved in a few doors down from a friend of mine a few weeks ago, and as is customary in the land of the white picket fences, the neighbors were out in force to get a glimpse of the newcomers. It transpires that the new arrivals are a single...
I live in a Central Ohio suburb. It’s the kind of place where kids play on the street in front of their homes while dogs lie on front porches watching the world go by and the neighbors all know each other by name. On a summer evening, the smell of steaks cooking on outdoor grills and freshly cut grass waft through the air. The white picket...