Early spring has come to be one of my favorite times. Despite my loud protests to the contrary over the course of many years, I have become fully invested in gardening around my house. I smile at the first glimpses of tiny green shoots beginning to creep out of the dreary brown ground. There is something earnest and hopeful about those delicate signs of life appearing amidst the detritus of the fall and winter. These tiny shoots of hope have become one of my favorite parts of early spring. They remind me that the world is about to undergo a change, and I get to be a part of it.
As outside, so within
In the therapy room, we are in the business of growth and change. Whether processing old trauma, developing coping skills to feel more grounded in the present, or preparing for the future, we are continually challenging the established and exploring the options. Change is the name of the game. And while not easy, change through personal growth and healing can be a very rewarding journey to undertake.
But the thing is, most clients who come in seeking change in their lives will also hit points where they resist said change. They’ll question the point of changing, rebel at feeling pressured to change, or believe the change they want is hopelessly out of their reach.The clash of both desiring change and fearing or resisting it can slow forward momentum to a dead stop.
….Or does it?
The struggle of being human
Some of the richest work we can do in therapy is at the point of that internal conflict. In textbooks, we’re taught to label this as “resistance.” In the real world, I call it being human. Sometimes these points of conflict feel impassible, and clients (and clinicians) can become frustrated and discouraged.
But we have to remember: growth develops through struggle.
Lifting weights makes us stronger by creating tiny tears in muscle tissue that rebuild stronger. Ballet technique develops through extensive practice and repetition, exhaustion and sweaty commitment. And butterflies can only fly because they have to fight their way out of a tiny opening in a restrictive cocoon. The pressure of forcing their way through pushes excess fluid out of their delicate wings and encourages blood flow through them. Without the struggle, they wouldn’t be able to fly.
It’s easy to look at a client feeling stuck in a state of ambivalence, unready to change, and to feel like we’re failing them. Just like it would be easy to look at a garden in winter and assume it to be dead because everything is bare and brown. But in the heart just as in a garden, what we see on the surface is not all there is. And part of our work with clients is reminding them that just because they feel stalled doesn’t mean they aren’t progressing on their journey.
How much change happens in my garden that I can’t see because it’s below the surface? How long are the roots, corms, and bulbs waiting quietly for their chance to return, or beginning to send those tender green shoots up before breaking through the soil and into the sunlight? How much struggle is required to push through half-frozen earth, laden with dead leaves and snow, to find the surface?
Shoots of hope
Watching the little spots of green grow and spread as the weather warms is an encouraging reminder that life, and growth, can be happening even when things seem most bleak. The seedlings and buds are a reminder that even the longest, darkest, coldest winter has to end sometime. And life persists, even if it has to go dormant for a while to preserve its energy. What can look dead and empty one week can be alive with buds, shoots, and baby leaves the next.
Signs of returning life in a garden can lift the spirit. Signs of sought-after change in a life can inspire us to stay with the work even when it gets hard. Little shoots of green in a garden might look like small instances of assertiveness, boundary-setting, and self-awareness in clients. These little shoots of hope are a reminder that growth and healing are always possible when we are willing to fight for them. We may not always see signs of our progress at first glance, but the world below tells a different story.
Winter can’t last forever. Look for the little shoots of hope and growth within your clients. And nurture them within yourself.
