Relevance Part 7
February 10, 2025
Relevance Part 7
I have a chair whose leg is broken. You can't tell that the leg has been cracked in two pieces and glued back together. The chair has been very sturdy ever since it was repaired. It's never faltered in the 42 years since its "accident" and repair. Every time I sit in it or look at it, I recall a story held deep in my heart.
One of my first patients was an eleven-year-old boy who'd recently lost his father. Chip (I’ll call him) was brought by his mother because of behavior problems at home and in school. The young man was very resistant to talking with me or with anyone. Due to the trauma and grief, he'd shut down.
My approach was to sit with him in therapy and be present with him even though he'd say nothing. Because he was silent, I did all the talking. And as I had been trained, I would say the things I imagined he'd feel in this unexpected traumatic circumstance. One day in session, I voiced some feelings that obviously got too close. He suddenly stood up and said, "I am leaving." My chair was between him and the door; I also stood up and said, "Please stay." In response he picked up my empty chair over his head and smashed it across my desk, breaking off one of its legs. His rage was uncontainable. I led him back to his mom in the waiting area.
In situations like this, another type of therapy is sometimes required — a therapeutic experience way out of the box for this grieving young man. One of the medical residents in training with me, Dr. Brad Ward, had witnessed the child's acting out. Brad and I were discussing the "case" and I told him that this young man needed a positive shock — something that would reframe his grief and give him new thoughts — something that would shock his system in a good way to get him in another mode of being.
Brad said, "I know just the thing — I can take him and you on a flight in my small plane. I will fly us over his home, school, church, and the entire city — I will fly us over Cheaha Mountain and over Lake Logan Martin… He will love it; it may lift him above his troubles. And because he will experience this with us, he will trust us."
His mother consented, and we flew the following week from McMinnville airfield in Weaver, Alabama. The child was in another world above the clouds. He'd never flown, and this was a remarkable experience for him. Dr. Ward was right. Chip began to talk after that flight. It was just what the doctor ordered, literally. The child did well in the remainder of his therapy. The precious little soul was finally able to say goodbye to his daddy. I never heard from the family after that.
Many years later, I was in town at the gas station. A businessman in a coat and tie was pumping gas on the other side of the pump. This stranger smiled at me and said, "Ya wanna go on another flight?" “Oh my gosh, it’s you Chip,” I said. We had a spontaneous reunion at the pump. This young soul had emerged from a horrific childhood trauma with strength and empowerment.
The chair reminds me of how we can be so broken that things break in two. But if the repair work is solid, we can be stronger than we were before.
Spiritual practice: Have you ever had a positive shock point that lifted you above the clouds of your dilemma? If so, reflect upon it and record what thoughts emerge. Consider your answer to the following: Why can experiences from outside our regular activities change our mindset?
Self-inquiry: What are some reasons why you would benefit from a shock point.
Dear God,
I am truly grateful for that experience and for the imagination of Dr. Ward. And God, In my grief, you lift me beyond myself to heal my broken heart. Amen
