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

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.

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:

He took a breath, anchoring himself in his chair. He didn't mirror her anxiety; he provided a container for it. Being Empathic: a Companion for Counsellors and...

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.

"It feels like everything is moving too fast to catch, doesn't it?" Leo said softly. Late that afternoon, Sarah sat across from him

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.

By the time Sarah left, the rain had turned to a drizzle. She wasn't "cured," but her knuckles were no longer white. Leo felt that familiar pull—the urge to jump

As the session went on, the "companion" in Leo’s mind reminded him to check his own boundaries. To be meant feeling with her, not becoming her. He felt the weight of her grief, but he kept his feet on the rug of his office. This balance allowed him to stay steady enough to guide her.