One of our Gestalt elders directed me to a TED talk on the theme of vulnerability which is not a word we use in Gestalt, but which underlies the foundation of what we do. We don’t use the word in class because in the popular understanding it means to be wounded. What we teach our students is to be “porous”, meaning to let the other’s responses to us get beneath our skin, even if it hurts, without defensiveness, which is our protection from hurt.

As the season changes to the caressing comforts of spring and we are called on by budding nature to feel hopeful and light hearted, it can be shocking to feel boredom. It seems as if we are co-creating a world of reaction, resistance, avoidance, distraction, opportunities, intentions (keep adding all of your favorite pastimes — I am in the process of learning basic Klingon for a disowned parts party) as a major hedge against the potential onset of boredom. Since we spend so much energy avoiding boredom (healing from any addictive pattern requires facing the dread of boredom) I thought it would be useful to face it straight on with an exploratory approach. In the Gestalt world this means putting our interest into boredom.

I hear voices in my head. I expect I always will. They’re all versions of me — in stereo usually — in conversation with various departed ones, mentors, and intruders from my past. I am narrating my life to myself, more or less, all the time. I suspect we all are.

Soft spots are what I love to explore with my clients – how can we become supported enough in ourselves that we can be receptive, available, open to the other and connection. Yes, we need our hardness too and our ability to express ourselves. Yet, if we don’t know what is inside of us, the parts that we might hide from our friends and our lovers and yes, ourselves, then how do we express what is true?

Rumi, a famous Sufi poet asked: “Do you make regular visits to yourself?” In answering his question, I have realized that riding my bike that sunny summer afternoon I was being a poor visitor to myself, a jittery guest who was uneasy, impatient and hungry for more excitement, who was going in and out of being present. I have realized that riding my bicycle that day, I was actually riding on my thoughts with the bicycle, disconnected from my body.