Being Empathic: A Companion For Counsellors And... Review

Leo felt that familiar pull—the urge to jump in with a solution, to offer a "fix" that would smooth over her trembling hands. But the core lesson of his "companion" echoed in his mind:

The rain drummed a steady, rhythmic beat against the window of Leo’s small practice. On his desk sat a well-worn copy of It wasn't just a textbook to him; it was a map he consulted when the fog of other people’s pain became too thick to see through.

Sarah’s shoulders dropped an inch. "I feel like I'm screaming underwater," she whispered. "Everyone tells me to just swim to the surface, but I don't know which way is up." Being Empathic: a Companion for Counsellors and...

Leo looked back at the book on his desk. He realized that being a companion to his clients required him to first be a companion to himself—to understand his own capacity for feeling so that he could keep the door open for others.

"It feels like everything is moving too fast to catch, doesn't it?" Leo said softly. Leo felt that familiar pull—the urge to jump

Late that afternoon, Sarah sat across from him. She didn't speak at first. She just gripped her bag, her knuckles white, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for an exit from her own skin.

Instead of explaining the "mechanics of swimming," Leo simply nodded, letting the silence hold her words. He imagined himself standing in that water with her, not pulling her arm, but just holding a lantern so she wasn't alone in the dark. Sarah’s shoulders dropped an inch

He took a breath, anchoring himself in his chair. He didn't mirror her anxiety; he provided a container for it.