A few years ago, my daughter called with a stern message. She wanted me to start seeing a counselor. I explained to her that I advise CEOs, entrepreneurs, and executives, and I help invisible Americans, veterans and at risk youth align their authentic selves to their energy. I knew what I was facing and that all was good and I was sorting options.
My mother’s health was failing, and I felt powerless to improve her condition. My work demanded more energy than I had to give, and a necessary breakthrough seemed out of reach. To make matters worse, I noticed signs of a slowing metabolism that I was struggling to address.
When I explained to my daughter that I was aware of my reality and actively working to find options that fit my circumstances, she refused to accept it. One day, she delivered an ultimatum: “If you don’t see a counselor, I will not talk to you.”
She had me in a chokehold, and she knew it. Armed with a Ph.D. in Neurology and finishing her M.D., she was firm in her belief that I needed help. Reluctantly, I acquiesced. My daughter immediately brightened, having come prepared.
“I know credentials matter to you,” she said. “I’ve found three highly rated counselors in your area. This one is likely the best fit—he has an Ivy League education, is several years older than you, and comes highly recommended.”
And so, I made the appointment.
I arrived at an elegant office, softly lit and tastefully muted in design. The counselor, a distinguished man in his seventies, greeted me with a calm, kind demeanor. He had an aura of wisdom, matched by his polite and laidback manner.
When he asked why I was there, I was candid. “My daughter insists I see a counselor,” I said. “She’s worried about me.”
Before opening up, I wanted to understand who I was speaking to. What values had shaped his life? Where had he formed his perspective?
In our first few conversations, he shared his story: a beautiful pediatrician wife, a son in medical school, a daughter with the United Nations, and another practicing law. By all appearances, his life seemed ideal. We also discussed my life story, but for the most part, our early conversations were unremarkable.
As time passed, the dynamic shifted. One day, he confessed that while his story was true, it wasn’t the full truth.
His children hadn’t spoken to him in years. His wife had left him for a female partner. Despite his accumulated wealth, he didn’t know where it would go after him. He felt lost, unsure of where to begin rebuilding his fractured relationships—or if he even should.
Together, we developed a plan. I helped him draft letters and send thoughtful gifts to his children and ex-wife to bridge the gaps in their relationships. It was a tentative first step, but it started the healing process.
At one point, he laughed and said, “I was supposed to counsel you, but you’ve become my counselor instead.”
When I told my daughter, she was furious and found no humor in the situation.
This story, however, repeated itself with others. Over time, I found myself serving as a trusted companion to counselors. I learned that even they value broader life perspectives and non-judgmental companionship. They, too, need someone to help them see clearly, raise a mirror, hold a ladder, and reveal the bridges obscured by the fog of confusion.
Highly credentialed counselors are well-versed in theoretical treatment models and behavior patterns. Some have encountered parts of these theories through their patients’ stories. When clients struggling in life’s rough waters surfaced, they threw rescue rings and helped pull them out.
But life’s storms don’t arrive in neat theoretical packages. They’re a tangled mix of models, manifesting differently in each person. Counselors are no exception.
Many have endured inauthentic lives, contorting themselves to fit unhealthy environments. They’ve faced divorce, heartbreak, and broken trust. Some have been shut out by their children, let down their loved ones, or fallen short of their own ideals. They carry guilt for missed moments, regret for unspoken words, and fear that held them back.
Through my work with counselors, I’ve learned some profound truths:
- Trusted relationships are life’s greatest treasure.
- Listening is a compassionate gift we can give more often.
- Being of service is a fulfilling purpose.
- Sharing perspectives can ignite the spark of passion in others.
Most importantly, I’ve realized that degrees and credentials are no barrier to being of help. This holds true not just in counseling but in all walks of life. What we bring are life stories that tell of courage and perseverance, humor and embarrassment, and fear and love. Everyone of us has the capacity and goodness to uplift others.
So, take what life has taught me:
- Bring joy and laughter into your life.
- Listen more.
- Share your perspectives.
- Laugh at yourself.
- Be kind.
Live fully in every moment. And above all, live your bliss.