I define therapy as “care of the soul.” In this sense therapy happens in all places all the time. And this is real therapy—caring, helpful, generous listening and responding.

“I had Plato in mind when, many years ago now, I wrote Care of the Soul. I thought of it as simple, daily concrete care for our essence, our depth, and the source of our humanity. If you care for your soul, you will be more human, able to relate better and find your way through life, discovering your purpose and calling. Care of the soul is not always about dealing directly with problems but solving them indirectly by discovering your deepest self and making a beautiful life.

The therapist is seeing the situation differently, and that itself may be helpful. When therapist and client are not in the same narrative, there is space for change.

If you’re devoted to the soul and to your job as a caretaker of soul, you should not be tempted to stray from that role. It takes all of you to do that job, and you won’t want anything to interfere with it. When I was a monk, I lived a life of celibacy, and I have always believed that such a life was possible for me, even in my early twenties, because of the intensity of the community life I experienced daily. It’s similar in therapy. The deep and intimate joy of soul work does not leave room for any personal sexual or romantic needs. The work of intense care for souls keeps my heart busy and full.

From the first moment, I’m aware that therapy is a space separate from ordinary conversation. I listen more acutely than usual. I’m tuned in to levels of communication. I listen for the appearance and sound of the soul rather than the intended communication of my client. I hear overtones and reverberations. It’s not like listening at ordinary times in life. It’s not just focused listening, it’s listening for past voices and spirits and angels, to speak metaphorically.