Yesterday I heard this statement at a conference of psychotherapists: “a third – no two thirds – of the people here, won’t have had secure parental attachments”. 

Yet what does this even mean? Well, what this person seemed to be saying is that, in some way, most of us (including therapists) are victims of our distant past. And specifically we are screwed up (made to be sad, bad or mad) by the unfortunate actions (or inactions) of our parents (and specifically our mothers). In turn that means that somehow we have swallowed the myth that, culturally and psychologically, we are all fucked (to recall Philip Larkin’s self-pitying, misanthropic little verse). So therapy,then, is basically about mending this damage.

When this extraordinary statement was made, there were murmurs of agreement and nodding of heads around the room from those present. No-one (including me at the time) challenged the basic premise behind it. And this assumption was repeated in different forms throughout the day: that the quality of early-childhood, parental attachments are the predominant determinant of mental health, functionality and happiness.

How have we got to this position where we basically believe that such a specific childhood experience is the main predictor of adult pathology and dysfunction?

“Mostly”, writes Noam Shpancer, ” this is because people who show up in psychologists’ offices often turn out to have had chaotic childhoods. From this observation, it is but a short, tempting leap to the conclusion that a chaotic childhood causes psychological disturbance. What such a conclusion fails to consider is the fact that those who had chaotic childhoods and ended up untroubled do not show up at psychologists’ offices; and they happen to be the majority”.

Like any researched theory, ‘attachment’ can say something of value to us of the early stages of a child’s life. It helps us understand the context in which babies grow and develop. But attachment theory has been turned into an all-encompassing way of describing how a life and a personality are determined.

“In fact”, Shpancer goes on “to the extent that the past matters, it is usually the recent past, and the cumulative effects of varied historical influences, that matters, not early childhood”. 

Determinism of any kind is bad. We are not the predicted outcome of our genes, nor of internal models of early relationships. We are a complex interaction of factors, contexts, traits and potentials; and therefore the vast majority of us are entirely capable of redemption, and of learning from our experiences – difficult or joyful – throughout our lives.

One interesting observation about my own profession’s ‘theorising’ is that there has been little serious consideration given to detailed challenges to attachment theory and the ‘childhood determinism’ it promotes. Yet Judith Rich-Harris in her two books ‘The Nurture Assumption’ and ‘No Two Alike’, has already done a very effective job of debunking it, and providing an alternative, more nuanced version of how experience (throughout life) interacts with our innate and developing personality.

Of course we should be ensuring that children are safely kept and loved. But the notion that that most of us are somehow ‘fucked up’ is profoundly unhelpful, as is the notion that troubled children and adults are all victims of insecure attachment. Clearly some people are damaged by trauma (note – they can be helped to recover), but humans (children and adults alike) are resilient and capable of living good lives. Adopting a positive, redemptive and philosophical approach to therapy that recognises this, would be a lot more balanced and ultimately helpful than where the current obsession with nurture and attachment leads us.

It might also be more helpful to start ‘living our lives backwards’, as James Hillman invited us to do. This would involve us in looking back at our past, with curiosity, in a way that starts to make real reflective meaning – “so that’s what that is/was about!” - rather than delving around in the past, looking for reasons for our current unhappiness. And this approach to therapy will involve a recognition and acknowledgment of beauty too, for as Hillman writes: “Beauty is something everybody longs for, needs, and tries to obtain in some way — whether through nature, or a man or a woman, or music, or whatever. The soul yearns for it. Psychology seems to have forgotten that”. 

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I’ve been a therapist for 17 years, and have worked with hundreds of people of all ages. It is always a privilege to act as a helper and ‘soul-guide’ to others on a small part of their life’s journey.

There is no greater task in life than finding our purpose and meaning in the world. Many things can get in the way of this: habits we have developed throughout our lives; tragedies and traumas we suffer; the cruel actions of others; our disconnection with ourselves and the world around us – and so on.

Yet there’s a need for good, tough conversations if we are rise to this challenge. Not ones laced with limited psychological assumptions and presumptions or faint-hearted listening. Something a bit more philosophical – a lot more meaningful. In his blog, philosophical counsellor, Andrew Taggart, gives an elegant, clarity to this challenging, here-and-now practice from a very different starting point than most counsellors. He writes: “We can’t possibly examine our lives unless (1) we’re really committed to leading some fulfilling way of life, (2) we’re able to take a reflexive stance toward our desires, beliefs, and values, and (3) we’re willing to test those desires, beliefs, and values”.  [Continue Reading...]

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As I write this month’s letter I am keenly aware of grief. I am as close as I have been to this cleanest and most un-relenting of emotions at the moment, and so I have posted an extract from my forthcoming book Coming Back to Life. I wrote it a couple of years ago, but re-reading it I am reminded of its relevance – and importance. In addition I’d like to recommend artist/filmmaker’s Robyn Woolston’s wonderful and moving TEDx Merseyside talk from earlier this month. Robyn’s reflections on her mother’s death and on grief are, at once, courageous, visceral and profoundly thoughtful.

Grief falls apart  

(an extract from Coming Back to Life to be published 2012).

One day, I wrote this: “I sit looking out of the window; outside, beyond the garden, is a sunset almost too beautiful to describe in words. The colours in the sky change moment-by moment, clouds glow orange as the sun passes behind them, igniting them so they seem to flare up, then die down and glow like embers. Above this fiery horizon the sky is soft silver-blue and against it, the trees stand utterly still, silhouette green. I will sit here as dusk falls, and watch the blossom in the garden as it  glows in the way that flowers do on early summer evenings. Like little lamps in the grass and hanging from the bushes. In this moment I realise what I am grateful for, and what I have chosen…” [Continue Reading...]

An integration 

(extract from Coming Back to Life to be published 2012).

An integration of imperatives demands a new psychology – inherent with contradictions, but whole nonetheless. Determinism (‘this led to that’) of any kind just won’t do; moreover, pursuing activism or change without the psychological corollary is dangerous.

The trouble is that for a mind that likes order and certainty, there is always this point of view or the other. For this mind, depression must be the opposite of happiness, socialism is always in opposition to conservatism. For this mind, materialism and science oppose spirit, sanity counteracts madness, freedom stands against responsibility. We deny global warming or accept it, believe in a God or reject it.

This is a world of taking sides and stances; finding positions that must then be defended, regardless of evidence or the likelihood that sometimes contradictory positions can hold truth of a kind. [Continue Reading...]

“This is not a time to live without a practice. It is a time when all of us will need the most faithful self-generated enthusiasm … in order to survive in human fashion”Alice Walker.

The earth is resilient and bountiful, but oblivious to our individual and collective wellbeing. We owe it  wonder and stewardship – though not sentimentalisation and spiritualisation. For we are in danger of generating myths and miracles just at a time when clear heads and loving hearts are required. We are moral beings by evolution (not by design or belief) and are more than capable of making the right decisions  – if we wake up and stop searching in the wrong places.

To come back to life means going into the shadows and back again. It involves recognising and naming the social forces that create inequalities and that curb human liberty and fulfilment. And it means taking a stand against the evasions and ‘mumbo jumbo’ of post-modernist, post-rationalist culture. And it means shifting our perspectives towards the natural world so that our lives are more in step with its rhythms. [Continue Reading...]

My main post is a tribute to James Hillman who died on October 27th this year. His work on the modern soul will ripple out for many decades.

The dangerous words of James Hillman

Words are dangerous, only if they carry truth that people don’t want to hear. The best of these cut through the obscuring fogs of cultural decline and denial. The most effective face the reader and listener with the mirror’s reflection – and then challenge us to conjure beauty from this stark glass. Such was the nature of the words of James Hillman who died last month. Nothing he wrote was a compromise. His message carried difficult and dangerous beauty, running counter to the assumptions of our clinical paradigms of psychology and development, and our culture of markets and quick fixes.He championed the imagination and reclaimed the soul as a living destiny that is both within and outside us all. We are contained within soul; grow up from its acorn; reach down into the rich loam of the world. [Continue Reading...]

The Happiness Dilemma

I am suspicious of happiness. This might be a surprising thing for a therapist to write, so let me explain.

The world we live in is a difficult place. Life – day to day – is a struggle, and this is no different for humans than for the other species on our planet. What is different is that we humans have created cultures and civilisations, that pretend we are special , and depend on making the rest of the planet a massive resource bank from which to make our stuff.

Yet, the thing we call culture, is just a set of expectations that not even we humans agree upon. So we lose ourselves in mutual misunderstanding and fight each other. The rules of our ‘civilisation’ are that we must be loyal to our ‘nation’, and reject others’ ways of life as being ‘undemocratic’ or ‘barbaric’. We define ’us’from within, and ‘them’ by their non-acceptance our ‘our’ norms. And OUR norms seem mostly to be about sex, fighting and shopping. Or they are about markets (what sells) and defence – which amount to the same thing. What this creates is inequality, exploitation and an avoidance of the stark truth that we cannot, any longer, treat each other and our planet as commodities. [Continue Reading...]

On one level this feels like a very ordinary time. The early Autumn weather in Pembrokeshire is brisk and damp but still balmy – the seas still warm. The summer walks on the beach and the headlands have embedded me here – helping me take root in this place I have chosen to live. We drive over the hills to the gym and the sea unfolds as we approach Fishguard. We shop when we need to, and I cut wood to feed the fire. It feels simpler, somehow, yet I am aware that behind all this the storm clouds loom.

Pembrokeshire in Winter is especially stormy, and that is it’s charm. We know that Spring will come and the flowers will be out on the headlands again in May. Yet the storm that is brewing behind this simpler, chosen life is the hurricane we are all facing, and when it hits there may be no calm and mellow rebirth to follow.

Simply put, we all know in our bones that the consumerist lifestyle we are encouraged to live in order to prop up capitalism is unsustainable. According to nearly all the establishment voices out there, economic growth is still the key; yet this is not true. It cannot be sustained. And this fact makes our lives far from ordinary.

And what have been the psychological implications of this drive towards global consumerism? Fragmented communities. Disconnected individuals, desperately striving to pay for more ‘stuff’. Frantic searches for salvation – whether through the old religions of the new-age ‘faiths’ of spirit and individual transformation. [Continue Reading...]