Ocean of Us

for Belinda

       Wellfleet beaches twilight low tide, strung with stones like gazing stars
       you and I and the sun, seagulls setting and rising with the moon somewhere tiding rhymes around our wonder
       wandering, picking up the scattered verses of solid Earthspun rainbows daydreaming us
       the everything-children we are, exploring this allowingness at the edges of silver waves, falling awake in cold bursts within a warm heart-held nowhere

Outgrowing the Mechanism (Envisioning a Natural, Relational, and Creative Paradigm for Psychotherapy)

The Medical Model as the Tin Man in Oz

I wonder if psychotherapy loses its heart in the medical model, by being defined within a mechanistic paradigm of fixing, controlling, or manipulating a machine rather than of an essentially-mysterious and relational experience of nature and creativity.