"But at what cost?" I countered.
"The cost doesn't matter," Mark said. "Justice is worth it."
"That's where you and your son disagree," I said. "The two of you have different stories about what justice is worth." Mark then argued that his story was the correct one. "If you want a better relationship with your son," I said, "you might have to respect his story as valid for him even though you wouldn't choose it. My reaction to that movie was the same as your son's might have been. Justice wasn't worth the price the man paid,"
"That's just wrong," Mark said. "We all have to fight for justice."
"And that's where we disagree," I said. "So, if I was going to work with you, I probably couldn't help you find justice, because that's not my specialty. I know lots of situations in which injustices occur. I'm aware that governments are often corrupt and that bad things happen to good people. Just yesterday I saw a documentary about three men convicted of a murder in 1993 on flimsy circumstantial evidence who were finally exonerated with DNA. For every case that ends well, there are probably five that don't. I could help you find a way to respect your son's story and act around him in such a way that you get to see your grandchildren more often."
Mark's other complaint was that people didn't want to be around him. They got tired of hearing his story and avoided him. So I added, "I could also help you learn better storytelling skills so you know when to tell the really short version of your story, like, I was sick for a long time and then my wife, and to hold the long version for those less common situations when your with people who actually want to hear about conspiracies and corruptions." That approach didn't really appeal to him either, but the demonstration was concluded. The moral of the story is that we can't help everyone, and we can be clear about what we can do and what we can't do. I asked Mark to agree not to talk about conspiracies or corruption for the rest of the day and then talked about my approach to people who have too big a story, which is to encourage them to write their book as therapeutic activity. I have two clients who are doing that to good results. Another client got amazing benefit out of writing a "zine" about her life. (Zines are short novellas written almost like comic books.)
We can also sometimes enter into the story and work from within the story. I told a story about a young woman whom Barbara, my co-therapist, see. This young woman believes that aliens are broadcasting thoughts into her mind and trying to control it. Many had tried to dissuade her from that conviction to no avail. We enthusiastically entered into the story to help her to find ways to protect herself from the aliens. This approach is working because we are strengthening characters within her mind that can protect her from the aliens. We suggested that dogs are impervious to alien invasion because they lack a pre-frontal cortex. Therefore, the aliens can't control them and she could draw strength and comfort from her dog, which she is doing. We began studying movies with her, like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and collected strategies that have been used in the past to protect minds from alien takeover. In the midst of this, our client has started exercising, eats better, has made new friends, and is doing things to get healthier. We were able to form a coalition with her. The key was her willingness to work with us.
Following my interaction with Mark, Peter demonstrated hypnosis with someone with a physical affliction. A participant volunteered who had a dislocated toe. That was a great example, because some people said, "how can a dislocated toe have a story?" However, the toe wasn't healing as fast as expected. A story did emerge about the toe being at the end of the gall bladder meridian and the injury relating to moving too fast without taking proper self-care. So, even toes have stories that could be told. Every aspect of our lives is multiply determined with potential explanations on many levels.
