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How Linda the Lobster Became a Fish:
A metaphor
or
What is Psychotherapy?
by
Carla Kimball
©1992, Carla Kimball
All rights reserved.
Once upon a time there was a very spiny lobster named Linda. Linda had sharp claws that snapped all the time. She would snap at anything that came near her. Her spines would cut anything that touched them. Linda lived in a very dark cave. There were lots of other lobsters in this cave. This made things very confusing. You see, there was no light in this cave. Lot's of times Linda would pick up something she thought was hers only to discover, quite painfully, that it was not. The owners were never very happy to have their things taken away.
Linda was very unhappy and confused about all this. Her life was miserable. She seemed always to be getting into trouble, fighting and getting hurt. She was also very lonely. Nobody wanted to be with her. It seemed that the only other creatures in her cave were other lobsters that were equally spiny with claws as formidable as hers.
One day, after being very hurt by another very mean lobster, she decided to go to therapy. She expected that the therapist would be another spiny lobster, so she entered the room with her claws snapping and her spines sticking straight out, ready for any attack. She was very surprised, though, because the therapist, whose name was Barbara, sat very quietly holding a flashlight. For the first time, Linda was able to see what was hers and what was not hers. Barbara taught her how to use the flashlight in the dark cave so that she could see what belonged to her.
This was great except that the other creatures were so ferocious that Linda was still getting into fights. And many times she was certain that Barbara was going to snap at her also. So Linda would still come into the office with her claws snapping and her spines sticking straight out. Barbara, however, didn't respond to her snapping claws and sharp spines the way others had. Instead, Barbara offered to hold on to her spines for a while and look at them closely. "Why do you suppose you need this spine?" Barbara would ask and Linda would suddenly remember the time when that spine grew. As she recalled the details of the spine, how it started to grow after someone had hurt or attacked her, the spine gradually began to disappear in Barbara's hands. Occasionally, outside of Barbara's office, something would happen that made Linda wish she still had that spine. A ghost of it would appear on her shell but it never really had the substance of the old original spine.
Gradually, Linda's spines began to disappear one by one; and as she became more accustomed to the light from the flashlight, she began to venture out beyond the very dark cave. She still had her sharp claws which protected her whenever necessary, and she still had her very hard shell. Those mean, nasty, ugly lobsters with spines stayed in the dark cave and stopped bothering her. Linda found that there were other lobsters around with no spines. She enjoyed playing with them. They would slowly lumber up to each other and touch claws. Their antennae would dance around sensing the other's presence. Sometimes they even played ball with one lobster using its claw to throw the ball and the other lobster using its claw as a bat. This was fun but it got kind of boring because it took so long to retrieve the ball. Lobsters are pretty slow. Their hard outer shell makes it hard for them to move with any speed.
More and more Linda became aware of all the other animals in the sea. The fish, especially, were so beautiful. They swam so gracefully, moved so quickly. Lobsters were strong and solid and frequently held their own against the current. Sometimes, though, the currents would be so strong that the lobsters would loose control and begin to roll over and over until they were desperately able to grab a hold of a piece of seaweed and anchor themselves. But the fish, the fish just seemed to move with the flow. They could swim in and out of the rocks and crevices. When the currents were strong they would gracefully swim along in the current without a struggle.
Linda wanted to be more like the fish. But she found that her body was stiff and hard, not flexible at all. She knew, however, that she was well protected by her hard outer shell. The shell was very important because no one could get to the soft, vulnerable place inside her.
Once in a while, when she was in Barbara's office, she would temporarily shed her hard outer shell. Inside, she found something very soft and warm but easily bruised. Whenever she left the office she felt she had to put the shell back on. But gradually Barbara showed her that she had the strength to stand up on her own without the shell. There was a strong and resilient skeleton inside her. She learned that everyone one had this inner source of strength and form, but that most were not even aware of it.
Linda and Barbara had a great time experimenting and playing with her new form. She could bend and sway and dance and have so much fun without that exterior shell. But whenever she went out she felt that she still needed her outside shell. She was afraid that she would get hurt when the currents got too strong and rolled her over and over.
One day, she had been having so much fun in Barbara's office, that she forgot to put her shell back on. After she left the office a lobster friend saw her and said, "There's something very different about you today, you seem so soft and radiant, what have you been doing?" Linda realized that she could be shell-less outside of Barbara's office. This made life so much more fun because she could bend and twirl and dance and swim in and out of the rocks and crevices. But sometimes she got bruised, especially when the currents got really strong and she forgot to swim with the currents and tried to stand strong and firm as she had with her hard outer shell. The currents would then tumble her around and this could really hurt. These were the times when she would go back to Barbara who now reminded her of how much easier it was to flow with the current. They would practice with small currents in the office and pretty soon Linda had the hang of it and learned to trust that she could let go of the control. Then she would be all right. In fact, she found that life was so much more fun this way. She saw so many new things, met so many different creatures of the sea, and ate wonderful, tasty, exotic foods.
But best of all, Linda was no longer stuck down at the dark bottom of the sea. She could swim up to the surface. How light and warm and beautiful it was! Sometimes she would come across a new totally unexpected discovery which startled her and caused her to be frightened. When this happened, she would return to Barbara who would help her understand the new discovery, by allowing her to explore it in a safe place. Barbara many times now would just listen, and by being heard Linda was able to bring so many things to the light.
Her world was now full and rich and vast. Such a different place
from the dark cave in which she had first found herself. Barbara
had been a guide, a witness, a container, a reframer. And in all
these roles it was the alliance between Barbara and Linda, the safety
and trust, that was most important in helping Linda with her transformation
from a spiny, angry lobster to a gracefully, flowing fish.
Barbara had once been a very spiny lobster herself. She had also come from a very similar dark cave full of ferocious creatures. She had worked long and hard with several other therapists learning to let go of her own spines and shell. When Linda first entered Barbara's office, Barbara was so reminded of her past that she could feel her shell and some spines beginning to return. Linda was a lot like an especially frightening creature in Barbara's cave. Sometimes, especially at the beginning, Barbara would get so confused as to whose spines were whose, that all she could do was hold tightly on to the flashlight and hope that it was pointing to the path that was most beneficial to Linda.
Barbara, though, had learned that her recognition of her own spines could help her understand what each spine of Linda's meant. So after an initial period of confusion, Barbara began to use her understanding of her own spines to help her aim the flashlight for Linda.
Sometimes, it seemed to Barbara that Linda was never going to let go of her spines. Linda would come in week after week, brandishing her claws and bristling with spines. It seemed as though one hour a week was just not enough to make a difference in the life of someone who had to return, week after week, to that dark cave filled with other angry lobsters. How could their very short time together make a difference? And Barbara had to continually remind herself that she could not be responsible for all that happened in Linda's life.
Barbara knew that it was important to examine and explore each of Linda's spines. It was only by allowing the depth of pain and emotion, the hurt inflicted by another, to surface and release that these spines would begin to disappear. Sometimes, though, the process of exploring a spine would take many weeks or months. Occasionally, Linda would leave the office with a newly opened wound exposed to the world. Barbara would do what she could to help protect the wound and to protect Linda from feeling overwhelmed by the emotions that would overflow from the place where the spine used to be. She would be very careful not to expose too much at a time. Barbara was always very aware that she only had one hour to work with Linda and that she didn't want Linda to walk out the door without some protection around the wound. Barbara was always concerned with Linda's safety and found that there was a delicate balance between examining the wounds at the root of the spines and helping Linda manage the resulting pain that surfaced. This was a process of creating a safe space to feel the pain, while at the same time reminding Linda of her inner strengths. And, slowly, almost imperceptibly, Linda began to lose her spines and move out of the cave.
Barbara's primary tools in working with Linda were herself — her feelings, her intuition, her observations, her vision and her sense of her own true, authentic self — and the flashlight. So often, especially in the beginning, Barbara and Linda were working in a dark cave. Barbara did not really know where the exit was, nor did she know which path to follow. But Barbara held onto the flashlight and Linda walked in front showing Barbara where to aim the flashlight. Sometimes, the beam of light would wander about the cave aimlessly, with no true sense of direction. At other times, the beam of light would be very focused on one spine or claw with its attendant pain. Barbara trusted that Linda in some way knew where the beam needed to be aimed. And if she followed Linda's guidance, they would eventually find a gem — a key to understanding the spines — in the dark, dark cave. But occasionally Barbara thought she knew where to aim the beam of light. In these sessions, Linda would stumble upon many gems unseeing, in pursuit of some imaginary gem that Barbara thought she saw in the distance. After such sessions Barbara had to remind herself that Linda, not Barbara, had all the information needed to aim the flashlight. Barbara need only really listen to Linda with her ears, with her eyes, with her intuition, with her feelings, with her entire being — and Linda would point the way.
The flashlight took many forms. Sometimes Linda and Barbara talked about things. Sometimes, Barbara would pull out her crayons and paper and Linda would draw her experience. At other times, Barbara would suggest that Linda experience and express her feelings by moving her body. At still other times, they would sit silently, allowing all the feelings of the moment to be fully experienced without interference. When Linda could not see with one flashlight, Barbara would pull out a different one.
Barbara knew all along that Linda was a flowing fish inside and she tried to keep this vision in her mind at all times. Barbara knew also that Linda would become aware of this fish and give it full expression only if Barbara could stay in her own fish form at each session. If she was the flexible, flowing fish that swam with the currents and rose to the light at the surface and then dived back down to the depths freely with no fear, then Linda would begin to see that she could do the same. Barbara also knew that as Linda moved out of the cave and ultimately up to the surface, Barbara would have to respond to her differently. She would no longer have to be the holder of the flashlight. She might be a container — the shell that protected Linda's soft interior. She might simply be a witness rejoicing in Barbara's journey as she moved toward the surface. She would have to change as Linda changed.
Barbara knew that she too would heal as she accompanied Linda on her journey towards inner health. Their relationship together was not one-sided. Barbara, although not sharing much of her personal life, tried to be fully present at every meeting. Sometimes this was difficult, especially when Barbara was experiencing her own personal pain. Sometimes Barbara would make mistakes and Linda would get angry. Barbara had to remember that it was alright to make mistakes. They used these times to reflected together on what was happening between them in the moment. This not only helped to explain to Linda what often happened between her and the outside world, it also helped to deepen and strengthen their relationship with each other and to give Linda the opportunity to do the same in her other relationships.
Barbara knew that there would be a time when Linda would no longer need to visit her. She felt sorrow about losing this relationship and had to remind herself not to put up her old spines around saying goodbye. She also had to help Linda recognize her spines which bristled at the thought of the loss. By exploring past losses, Linda and Barbara were able to say goodbye to each other with love and grace.
Both Barbara and Linda grew from their relationship together.
*****
This story written by Carla Kimball in response to a class assignment in 1992 answering the question"What is psychotherapy?" and is provided on this website as an example of her multi-modal and out of the box thinking.
Carla Kimball, M.A., M.B.A. is now a speaking presence coach, workshop facilitator and president of RiverWays Enterprises. Over the past 18years she has presented and coached on a diverse set of business, stress management and communication topics to thousands of business and service professionals. Client companies include leading financial management, health care, and accounting firms.
Carla offers a selection of regular public speaking presence and presentation skills programs and coaching services for individuals as well as for corporate groups. Carla works from inside-out and helps people become more confident speakers while establishing a strong relationship with their audience.
Carla is a prolific writer on public speaking topics and currently offers a 26 week subscription to The ABCs of Presence in Public Speaking Toolkit, a newsletter which presents one article and exercise a week organized alphabetically with a unique perspective on public speaking issues. She has also recorded a 45 minute DVD on The Seven Crown Jewels of Public Speaking Presence.
Carla is based in Cambridge, MA.
(You may freely copy and distribute this article as long as you keep the content intact and unchanged including title, author, copyright notice, text, contact information (including web address: www.riverways.com), and this entire notice. )
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