The Power of Showing Up
Much has happened in the six months since I published my last newsletter. As I continue to mend my broken ankle, I have expanded Sharing the Sacred to include a private psychotherapeutic practice alongside the regular gatherings we have held for several years. Sharing the Sacred Psychotherapy focuses specifically on emerging adults in university and those finding their way in the years that follow. Both my ankle injury and my practice have taught me what it truly means to heal.
In this short time, what Naomi Klein calls the "mirror world" has intensified. This is a world where our experience cannot be trusted—a place "where conspiracy is reality, fiction is fact, left is right, and you may not even recognize yourself." It operates as a parallel reality alongside our own, but with inverted logic and distorted versions of truth. Here, real and imagined fears converge, making sensible action difficult. In the mirror world, the temptation is to remain on the couch.
In a previous newsletter, I described the couch as the realm of non-meaning, where it doesn't matter if you attend that meeting or group. In classical mythology, this space might be called the "Bog of Misunderstanding." But in our surreal world—where authentic pain, entertainment, and misinformation arrive through the small computer in our pockets—a metaphor as mundane as our living room couch feels appropriate. After all, it feels natural to freeze, open a bag of chips, and turn on Netflix.
In this context, depression becomes a rational response. It's unsurprising that among emerging adults, anxiety and depression have increased more than 60% over a recent 10-year period. This statistic aligns with my experience—first as a counselling intern at Victoria College, then as a registered psychotherapist throughout the summer, and now as we begin the new term. The young people I see confront a staggering number of challenges within themselves, in their immediate environment, and in the broader world.
But this isn't the whole story. Working in this role, I've noticed something else—as mundane and everyday as the couch, but with very different effects. It's something I can't stop thinking about.
They show up. Despite facing wide-ranging mental health challenges, they attend classes, often work part-time jobs, and participate in sports or clubs. Many live alone for the first time and must handle what I call "all their other jobs"—deciding when to do laundry, how much time to devote to friends and responsibilities. They navigate countless firsts, doing their best with each one.
When they arrive at my door or online, they come ready to work. They bring vulnerability, honesty, and sharp intelligence. We both bring our whole selves into the room—our strong parts and vulnerable parts, the parts we're proud of and those we'd rather hide. When we meet this way, everything changes.
After my ankle broke in October, I wore a cast for six months, unable to bear weight. At winter's peak, I walked around the city with an airboot and cane. Nearly a year later, my ankle continues healing. But when an emerging adult meets with me, they learn that they are not broken. Regardless of their challenges—dysregulated eating, crippling anxiety, debilitating depression, or general overwhelm—they most often face these struggles alone. Friends, family, and other adults play varied roles, but few have someone with the skills and role of simply being present with them. The result is not just feeling better, but going deeper than presenting symptoms to core wounds where profound healing becomes possible.
This aligns with the work of experiential therapists like Diana Fosha, founder of AEDP (Accelerated Experiential Dynamic Psychotherapy) and author of Undoing Aloneness and the Transformation of Suffering into Flourishing. The experiential aspect is crucial: "The clinical phenomena are not inferred, referred to, interpreted, or only talked about: they are experienced by the patient."
In showing up, they reveal what Fosha calls "the healing orientation"—the firm belief that all people carry within them the power to heal and grow. The potential for healing is wired in from the start. This represents a major shift in understanding psychopathology: "Rather than looking at how things go wrong, attention is put on what goes right."
Recently, a young student came to see me at the end of his rope. He felt miserable and sad, engaging in risky behaviors he wasn't proud of. When he spoke, words tumbled out like pick-up sticks spilling across a table. Over time, he discovered his body wasn't the enemy and found a part of himself that was strong, kind, and curious. This is what I call the sacred.
It takes different forms—a childhood dream, a set of values, a gut feeling. The form matters less than recognizing it points to the truest part of them and can be trusted.
Eventually, he learned that emotions weren't to be avoided but had much to share. He discovered he could listen to his thoughts without surrendering to them or overriding them. He saw his body wasn't the enemy and felt the same kindness toward himself that he showed others.
While he had endless resources within him, he struggled to heal alone. We need each other. This is why we must show up in new ways. Whether through individual therapy or our gatherings, the invitation remains the same: to show up with our whole selves. If you think you might benefit from therapy or are interested in one of our upcoming gatherings, please don't hesitate to reach out: michael@sharingthesacred.ca.