Just reflecting and a story

Dear Reflection,
No pearls of wisdom to offer as I struggle with similar fears, but just sharing a thought here: In choosing a therapist to entrust with your innermost feelings, your soul itself;- Would YOU prefer to work with one whose tendency was to err a little towards too much introspection (because of his/her consciousness of the enormity of responsibility that comes with the priveledge of working with you), - or the opposite? (ie. a therapist unable to sufficiently introspect on the effect of their own stuff on their work with you) ? IMHO Our clients can only benefit from our introspection so long as we are able to look after ourselves on the inside by processing it in supervision or therapy when needed.
I know that probably sounds trite (feeling introspective here) and understand the gulf between the cognitive awareness and the emotional experience of this stuff because i share it.

I found this story on another website and got permission to share it here. It was apparently told by a native american elder:

A young Native American boy would walk by a pet shop window every day on his way to school. Each day he would stop and stare through the glass at the young puppies playing with each other.

One day, this boy gathered up enough courage to actually go into the shop. The shopkeeper came up to him smiling,

"I see you walk by everyday, you know," said the shopkeeper. "I would be willing to bet that you want a puppy for yourself."

The young boy smiled and nodded. He said nothing because he was very shy. "Would you like me to let the puppies out for you to play with?" asked the shopkeeper.

"Very much" said the boy, head down.

The shopkeeper let all of the puppies out and the boy knelt down to play with them. They were all black and shiny with bright eyes and tails which wagged ferociously. It was seldom that they had a little boy to play with.

"Do any of them seem special to you?" asked the shopkeeper.

The boy was about to answer that they were all so special, when out of the corner of his eye he spied one that sang to his heart. The boy pointed.

The puppy that the boy pointed to had been born with a bad hip, and couldn't walk as well as the others.

"Ah." said the shopkeeper, "he'll never run and play like the others though."

"I want him." said the boy. "I don't have very much money, but I will pay you a little each week until I pay for him."

The shopkeeper looked perplexed. "You know he will never be able to run and play like the others?" he asked the boy. The boy nodded. "Are you sure one of the other ones wouldn't be better for you?"

"No," the boy said, "I want THAT one."

Seeing how much the boy was committed to that puppy, the shopkeeper thought about it for a moment, and then told the boy, "I haven't the heart to charge you the same for him as I would for the other ones." he said. "I tell you what, I'll give him to you for half-price"

"No." said the boy. "He is worth just as much as the others. I will pay you just as much as I would pay for any of them. I promise."

The shopkeeper looked really perplexed. Again he said, "You know that he can't run and play like the others, don't you? Why don't you just let me give him to you, if he means that much to you. I am sure that no one else will have such a connection to him as you do."

"No." said the boy again. "I will pay the same for him as for any other. He is worth that much."

Seeing that there was no way of changing the boy's mind, the shopkeeper made a deal with the boy to pay him every week. "You take him with you today, and come back every week until he is paid for." The shopkeeper then gave the young boy all of the things he would need to take care of the puppy. "It's already built into the cost" said the shopkeeper telling a white lie.

The happiness on the boy's face said everything, and the shopkeeper was glad that the poor crippled puppy would have a good home.

"Just one question," asked the shopkeeper of the boy before he left with his puppy in tow. "Why do you want THAT puppy? Why does he mean so much to you when you know that he can't walk or run like the others will."

The boy smiled. Then he reached down and pulled up on leg of his oversized cargo pants (the kind most kids are wearing today), and there was his leg, in a brace and all crooked. "Because," said the boy, "he's going
to need someone who will understand."

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And that is why most healers become healers.

Elysha