The Breath of Congruence: Knowing when and how to end a career as a psychotherapist/supervisor

by Christopher Murray

Stepping into the field of the future starts with the opening of a crack from within. Following that crack requires us to let go of the old and ‘let grow’ something that we can sense but that we cannot fully know before we see it emerging. This moment can feel like jumping across an abyss. At the moment we leap, we have no idea whether we will make it across.

(Scharmer, 2014)

It is usual in our profession for clients to bring work to an end. When I decided in December 2021 to retire as a psychotherapist in private practice, I realised that as a sole practitioner there wasn’t a pathway to follow towards retirement. Undaunted, I began to create my own and to write about the experience. What follows is a personal memoir of the last six months of my working career, as I stepped into the unknown.

My decision to stop working after 47 years in a variety of practice settings, had its origins six years ago when a recurring paraumbilical hernia stopped me in my tracks. Up to then I had relied on my body’s ability to keep going but after my surgeries I was barely able to turn over in bed. My consultant suggested the weakness in my gut may have been there since birth and I wondered if working experientially for the past twenty years may have contributed to the rupture.

During recovery I assessed the impact of work on my general health and decided to reduce my working week, intending to take better care of myself holistically, paying more attention to my body and soul. I committed to hiking more often in the Mournes and the Glens of Antrim, engage in Reiki, yoga and tai chi, take longer and more frequent holidays, as well as introduce extra supervision from a somatic perspective.

I was surprised that the notion of retiring came to my mind as I imagined carrying on working until I was found dead in my chair. Psychologically I felt fine to continue, but it was in my heart and gut where I felt the pressure to stop. As a way of making sense of conflicting experiences I entered a period of self-reflection and dialogue with trusted people. I was afraid of retiring my ‘working self,’ unsure how I might begin to express that part of me after ending. I recalled watching others unprepared for retirement looking lost and full of regret. I did not want to follow that path.

The question I repeatedly asked myself was: ‘How will I know when the time is right?’

The answer: ‘I won’t know, until I know.’

The conflict left me feeling uneasy and so I utilised a process I’d developed in working with clients who experienced similar difficulties. The work involved exploring all aspects of the self from the perspective of head, heart and gut. When resolved, I watched clients emit a sigh of relief, relax their posture, and smile. I named the process the ‘Breath of Congruence.’

Working online during the Covid-19 lockdown came at an opportune time for me to experience what it might be like to be home more. I used the extra time to give a voice to all aspects of myself, hoping for resolution. I hadn’t expected the surge of creative energy I expressed through journaling, creative writing, painting, baking and even dressmaking. I turned the journaling into a podcast called ‘A Psychotherapist Marking Time’ (Murray, 2020) with a summarised version published in the IAHIP journal, Inside Out (Murray, 2020). I realised the breathing space of lockdown helped me find ways of expressing my ‘retiring self’ through newly found creativity.

That experience through Covid-19 and the four weeks break during winter 2021 helped me to answer the question I asked a few years ago: ‘How will I know when the time is right?’ The answer and my ‘Breath of Congruence’ moment came as I relished not returning to work for several weeks. My gut was particularly pleased, and I heard it say, ‘at last.’ The end was in sight, and I decided to work until June 2022, before hanging up my ‘core conditions’.

In January I announced my decision to finish my practice in six months, leaving time to work through our ending. People were understanding when they heard my decision whilst also expressing surprise. I decided to focus on the needs of the clients until my supervisor reminded me that it was also my ending, a career spanning almost half a century.

Her words left me wondering how I would manage my ending as well as that of the clients. It occurred to me that if I had been employed for 47 years the path would be clear, I would have a leaving do, receive cards and gifts, hear kind words, share food and drink. I would go home with an engraved memento, hopefully.

It would be up to me to create my own pathway through a series of rituals over the coming months that would acknowledge and celebrate my working life. I did not want to have unfinished business.

I set out a timetable for the practical task of dismantling my business, including removing furniture and personal items from my office; closing my website, stopping insurance and professional membership; managing client information through GDPR. Whilst creating the timetable, I felt inspired to write unsent letters to all clients, then in June conduct a fire ceremony at home when I would ritually burn the letters.

For many years I collected objects to use in creative work with clients. It occurred to me that I could return small stones and shells to land and water. During a walk with a friend to the Blue Lough in the shadow of Slieve Binian, I dropped some into the lough. I felt a slight panic as if I was letting go my life’s work, until my friend said that letting go can also create space for new growth.

As we walked and talked, I recalled people who had a positive influence on my personal and professional development and on returning home I created a timeline of my working life from 1975 to the present day. I enjoyed the process of celebrating those who saw qualities in me that I hadn’t recognised before. As I remembered each person, I felt a deep gratitude for their influence and guidance in my journey to become a psychotherapist. I also remembered one supervisor who helped to develop my practice as a psychotherapist. After several years he announced out of the blue that our work would need to end as he was reducing his caseload. I was as shocked then as my clients must have been in January. I turned this energy into an article for Inside Out, called My supervisor is breaking up with me (Murray, 2015). This reflection helped me to see it from my clients’ perspective, with whom I was ‘breaking up.’

It is hard for me to find the words to describe the richness of experience I had with clients over the final six months; how we came to appreciate our work together; didn’t run from the difficult emotions; were open and engaged. For that I am grateful. In the final weeks, clients offered gifts and cards in gratitude. I wondered about reciprocating, unsure at the protocol for therapists giving gifts. My heart and gut directed me to pass on items in the office that some clients had shown an interest in.

On the night of the summer solstice, I vacated my office, removing therapy chairs and personal possessions. Part way through I realised my keys were locked in the boot of the car. What was planned as a simple exercise at 7pm turned into a three-hour marathon, as it took nearly three hours to locate my spare key. At 9:45pm I pulled up at home with my office packed into my car. The longest day in more ways than one.

In the penultimate week, the two members of my peer supervision group and I travelled for a walk in Glenariff Glen on the Antrim coast. We sat in the forest to reminisce, share our hopes for the future and say our goodbyes. It was hard for each of us to end the relationship because of the level of support we had given and received over the past 12 years.

On the evening of 28th of June, friends arrived at our home for eats and the fire ceremony. Later we gathered outside, where I burned each letter, saying a few words, watching each turn to ash and the smoke drift into the atmosphere. I woke up the next morning with a spring in my step.

In July I attended a Shamanic Breathwork Journey at Body Conscious Studio in Belfast to work through any residual thoughts and feelings associated with my ending. What I didn’t expect was to connect with my sister, who died suddenly over 19 years ago. We didn’t say goodbye. The session allowed me to let go of unfinished business I had and to say my goodbyes to my sister, Carol. That eased my heart.

Having achieved my breath of congruence moment earlier, I was surprised at the strength of my feelings when it came time to delete my website. I tended my website as my online presence for over 22 years. At the press of a button, it was gone and for a little while I felt bereft. The following week I experienced another wave of emotion when I realised, I was about to have my final session as a psychotherapist and that my IAHIP accreditation was coming to an end.

Since finishing, I decided to become an IAHIP member (retired) allowing me to stay in touch with the profession. Life is good, full of energy and creative ventures. I am happy at home and enjoy living day to day. I have come to appreciate the freedom that comes from not having to prepare myself to go to work and then recover from being at work.

When I look at the engraved rolling pin memento presented by my wife, I know what a privilege it has been to work in this field. I was always passionate about my work so giving it up was never going to be easy, as I hope I have described in this article.

I want to say a special thank you to my wife Anne who encouraged me to write this piece, reminded me of the importance of editing when I wanted to give up, and sustained me with intelligence and love.

Christopher Murray MIAHIP (retired), began his career as a counsellor in Birmingham in the mid 70’s and ended it back in his home town of Belfast 47 years later. He loved every moment of it.

References

Murray, C.M. (Host). (2020-2021). Marking Time [Audio podcast]. Apple Podcasts. https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/marking-time/id1514850419

Murray, C.M. (2015) My Supervisor is Breaking Up with Me. Inside Out: 75. Spring 2015.

Murray, C.M. (2020) Marking Time: Covid-19. Inside Out: 91. Summer 2020, 3-7.

Scharmer, O. (2014) Relational inversion: The presencing institute. Retrieved 1 December 2014 from https://www.presencing.com/ego-to-eco/relational-inversion.

IAHIP 2022 - INSIDE OUT 98 - Autumn 2022