Something I adore about my line of work is how I am not allowed to force my agenda onto others. Therapists do not exist to fix you and tell you how to navigate the world. We exist as a holding space and a listener as you relearn how to navigate life, fully empowered by your own choices.

If you were to enter my office, telling me you want to process grief, and let slip that you have insatiable road rage, I cannot decide whether you need to address the road rage first– or at all. Similarly, if we end an appointment, finally reaching a major breakthrough, I cannot force you in your next appointment to pick up exactly where we left off.

Actually, there is an unspoken pattern: that if we make serious groundwork, we can expect that we’ll probably be talking about lower-stakes and shorter-term concerns for several following weeks. It is part of the process, and we cannot put our agenda onto you.

What makes this more enjoyable for me is the existential and philosophical journeys I get to witness and reflect on with my clients. In part II of Man’s Search for Meaning (2006), Dr. Viktor Frankl observed that the more science-focused our societies become, the more individuals seek guidance from science-driven practitioners rather than faith-based institutions. When we are constantly seeking empirically-based answers, many people are looking at their existential crises as a pathologized issue. Thus, hard and soft sciences roll with the punches: therapists are now trained to be existential.

This ideal becomes two-fold, because there’s a *common stigma that western religious leaders approach every seeker with an agenda—to save them through their belief system. Therefore, before they realize it has happened, clients are exploring with their therapists what it means to live, what moral codes they live by, and what they believe happens when they die. And therapists like myself love not knowing the answer and watching you choose what makes sense to you.

The lack of forced agenda, I feel, parallels closely to Lois Lowry’s The Giver. We see a world where everything is predestined, down to the career you will have for the rest of your life. The sacrifice for peace is color, music, creativity, and fun. Everything is literally black and white. There is no room for nuance or dilemmas. It is what it is, and we find peace through uniformity. But as the story progresses, we see glimpses of imperfection in a perfect world. And those imperfections often come with understanding the cost of a conflict-free utopia: memory and choice. 

We follow Jonas, who has been selected to become the next Receiver of Memory within this utopia. He receives memories from the Giver– formerly the previous Receiver, and Jonas starts to alienate from the world around him. He sees the cracks as we witness them, and he does not know if he can return to the black and white world as he learns what it means to see in color. Jonas becomes confused because good and bad can be held simultaneously for the same instance. He then becomes lost and confused about what to do with this newfound understanding of a world nobody else can remember. He witnesses an evil that nobody else has the memory or capacity to understand as evil. And Jonas ultimately must decide what to do.

There are many beautiful journeys to experience throughout The Giver, and I find an ambiguous ending plus an emotionally dense plot means audiences will continue to discuss countless themes addressed in this book. My takeaway tonight, though, is this: memory is invaluable, and choice is our freedom. What makes this utopia a dystopia is that nobody can recall a world that did not function as some uniform system. And this system only works when everyone abides by the same rules and mentalities. No moral dilemmas, no decision-making models, just blind faith and complacency.

Like Jonas, clients often begin to see color as they recall long-suppressed memories—grief, joy, loss—and realize meaning lies not in erasing the past, but in holding it fully. And as we see colors, we will see cracks in our past belief systems. This does not mean we lied; this means we can make new choices with deeper understandings of maladaptive frameworks and how we truly hope to navigate the world by our unique moral codes.

I hope we continue to have the freedom within the therapy office to discuss existentialism. I love philosophical topics, and I love hearing about what brings those around me peace in such a disconnected world. We don’t need to have all of the answers to have a gut instinct on what makes this world make sense to us. We have humanitarians working in faith, religious entities working in faith, and single parents doing the same each day just to make ends meet. But the faith which they pursue is as unique as the role they’re playing in life.

Our lives, our journeys, and our memories are completely unique to our stories. It will influence and shape how we interact with this human world, but there is nothing wrong to return to the drawing board and say, “okay. How do I make this make sense?” Therapists, religious leaders, and particularly chatty friends who maybe majored in philosophy are prepared to explore that question with you. But I encourage you to take nobody’s agenda except for your own. Likewise, I encourage everyone to participate at least once in a conversation of conflicting opinions with no agenda other than to listen. Choose someone safe, of course, but witness what it is like to build on your black and white memory and hold space for more color and more nuance. Hold your own agenda lightly, and others’ gently, to let color back into the black-and-white.

On Freedom to Choose

Client: I feel stuck.

Me: What’s keeping you trapped?

Client: My job. I feel unmotivated, and like I’m living the same day over and over again.

Me: That sounds exhausting. 

Client: What should I do?

Me: Well, it sounds like there are two options: you can stay, or you can leave.

Client: Which one do you suggest?

Me: *Laughs* That’s not my choice to make. Only you know what will be viable.

Client: You never tell me what to do.

Me: Because it is your life to live. I have tips and tricks and new perspectives. I will always hold space for you. But one day, I want you to feel secure enough to make these choices without me. Which means we do the hard work now, and you can take time to explore these options, but ultimately, it is your call.

Client: *Sighs* This is hard.

Me: But not impossible. Take your time.

Note:

*This is a stigma. Pastors and the like are trained counselors just as much as mental health counselors. They do not default to placing an agenda any more than your mental health counselor. If you are seeking guidance, go where you find the most peace.

References

Frankl, V. E. (2006). Man’s search for meaning (I. Lasch, Trans.). Beacon Press. (Original work published 1946)