Therapist column - The limits of training

"Having received my copy of the recent letter from the Chair of BACP, Dr Lynne Gabriel, regarding the proposed differentiation between counselling and psychotherapy in the lead-up to statutory regulation, I thought I might use this space to reflect further on whether there is a difference between the two activities, and if so, the nature of that difference."

Therapist column - Boys don't cry?

"I remember once in my counsellor training, many years ago, sitting in a group in which we were engaged in some particularly challenging self-awareness kind of thing"

Therapist column – The journey not the destination

"I have been reminded recently of the paradox we often face in our work as counsellors: that is, of how important the everyday things are, and how we can so easily take them for granted. Let me say a little more of what I mean. I work in a northern university."

Therapist column - Regulatory whispers

"There is a great new game doing the rounds, and you have probably already played it without realising. It is a variation on the game you might have played as a child, or at very bad parties, called Whispers. "

Learning zone

Dilemmas

This month's dilemma: Would you break confidentiality if a reluctant client fails to attend, or respond to letters while owing money?

Student column

The student column will resume again shortly, with a new columnist

Counselling and Psychotherapy Research (CPR)

is a peer reviewed, quarterly international journal. Visit http://www.cprjournal.com/ to read abstracts, receive regular e-bulletins and access the research glossary

Therapist column - Why research matters
by

Andrew Reeves

I’ve just spent an exhilarating and exhausting two days talking to people about research. How can this be I hear you ask? Were you confused, or misguided, or perhaps on some mind-altering substance to make research exhilarating (exhausting we understand)? Were you kidnapped by a particularly cruel and ruthless gang who subjected you to terrible treatment, holding you against your will while they talked about evidence based practice, or methodology, or randomised controlled trials? Perhaps I had accidentally stumbled on some secret and shameful gathering and was too polite to make my apologies?

On the contrary – I spent two days in the luxury of a lovely hotel, surrounded by interesting and engaging people, talking about why research mattered to them (and to me). The BACP Research Conference has just celebrated its 15th year, and I have trotted along to nearly all of them. Now, I’m not here to plug the research conference – it generally sells out anyway so no plugs needed. Neither am I required to say nice things about BACP, simply because I write in their journal. However, you just can’t fault the research conference – well organised, diverse, energetic, and some great parties. This year there was a karaoke too – yes, I groaned too when I heard about it. I couldn’t help myself though, and sadly made a poor contribution to a version of Bohemian Rhapsody that otherwise might have been OK.

But why research at all? What on earth has research got to do with the day-to-day work of a counsellor or psychotherapist? According to the current proposals for the differentiation between a ‘psychotherapist’ and ‘counsellor’ come regulation, as a ‘counsellor’ I wouldn’t know research if I fell over it (let alone critically reflect on my practice). The time and money I invest on a research conference is essentially because research matters to me.

The reason why it matters is because of a motivation that was borne out of my work. The death of one of
my clients – Isobel – through suicide during my counsellor training was a profound experience that has shaped my professional and personal development since. Personal therapy and supervision was extremely important to me at that time, but the thing that really made a difference was coming across a research article that described how counsellors feel following the death of a client through suicide. It was like somebody had wiped the grime away from a filthy window.

At that moment, I learnt the power of research to inform, to educate and to enhance. I was entirely new to research, but took the plunge and realised quickly that the waters weren’t necessarily as cold and uninviting as I had feared. I found that ‘research’ – the dreaded ‘r’ word, certainly for me from a qualitative perspective – is not necessarily too far removed from the therapeutic work I am so committed to. Actually, while I’m on that point, there is some research being published (it was talked about at the conference) that is beginning to identify the similarities between a research interview and therapeutic encounter. Clients interviewed for research purposes can sometimes feel more ‘helped’ than by the original therapy they were describing. There’s a turnaround.

Integral to the research conference for me is that the pool is full of different people: those stood on the edge wondering about how/whether to get in; those splashing around in their depth, building confidence to move to slightly deeper waters; and those so proficient that the water just seems to carry them on, their stroke so effortless and inspiring. I think I’m bouncing around the slightly deeper water, but aware of staying in my depth – I do hate the water splashing in my eyes.

For me though, research is always about Isobel. Her death enabled me to view things differently; to reflect on our time together; to learn about her a little more; to consider my work with other clients differently; and to affirm what I already knew but had temporarily lost sight of. I cannot now consider working as a therapist without paying attention to theories and ideas developed through the exploration and questioning that comes from good research. So, come on in, the water’s lovely – honestly.
Andrew Reeves is a counsellor at the University of Liverpool Counselling Service and editor of Counselling and Psychotherapy Research (CPR)