The other day I was reading through some of my saved e-mail correspondence. Both sent and received. Interesting. Much of it is exchange of news. Some is discussion of various issues. Then I began to notice that some focused on personal issues.
Part of being a minister is having access to interior thoughts and feelings of people. One gets included in news about crisis situations. I hesitate to give examples since I treat such information as confidential. Let me say that in general my correspondence deals with the common issues brought to most counselors—marriage and family, career, grief, transitions, wounds of various sorts. Those sending these messages are sometimes people with whom I have “done business” in past years. Others are people who have been “on the list” for years and decided, for some reason, to share something important.
This is a new phenomenon born of new technology. I don’t think I realized I was doing “counseling” until I read back into my e-mail. Jean says that my old “snail mail” correspondence often had a counseling tone to it. I never intend to “counsel,” but do intend to do personal conversation.
Part of training in counseling involves being able to “hear” when someone is doing more than passing the time of day. Virtually every phone call, chance meeting on the street or at a party is automatically filtered through the counseling ear. It’s not an intentional thing. I suppose other professions have an ear tuned in certain ways as well. I’m sure I miss more “messages” than I notice. Nevertheless, there is a continual “listening” between the lines. (How about that?)
Why should I be surprised if I discover I’m doing the same thing with my e-mail? Most of it is not counseling material. But some of it is. People are often more direct and honest by e-mail than by personal contact. People I would never hear from otherwise have reached out by finger-touch on their computers.
In counseling one has the luxury of eye contact, body language, and voice inflection. In addition there is often time to allow an individual to get the whole story out, to listen through. In e-mail one gets a fragment without the detail. When response is made it has to be more intuitive than informed. There is greater possibility for misunderstanding the message (I’ve misunderstood a time or two) and a greater possibility that my response will be misunderstood.
Nevertheless, e-mail offers a great opportunity for caring people to meet and talk about things that matter. Although it is no substitute when people really need counseling, it is good for people who aren’t about to seek out a counselor. E-mail is easy. And cheap.
In trying to explain “what I do” to someone, I included “e-mail counseling” on my list. One person—being in the profession—asked, “how do you collect?” I guess it’s not counseling if you don’t get paid. In that case, I guess most of what I’ve done in my “counseling” career has not been counseling, since I’ve usually not been paid. I’m easy and cheap.
Inevitably, someone will ask about results. “Does it ever help?” That’s a question most of us can’t answer. Most ministerial counseling is not long-term. We often never see the person again. If people don’t come back, if they move on in their lives, then perhaps there has been a degree of help provided. I think that what we do best for one another is care. Sometimes we can share wisdom from the years, but our greatest gift is caring and encouraging.
Of course clergy and counselors are not the only e-mail encouragers. Lots of mutual support is going on over the e-mail connections. It’s a good opportunity for anyone who is connected.
Just this morning I went through my e-mail “Address Book” and as I came to various ones with whom I have been in recent dialogue, I sent off a message of continued interest or concern. I probably did 8 messages in 15 minutes. A counselor can’t see 8 people in a whole day! Anyway, that’s my report. I’m suggesting that seminaries add e-mail counseling to their curriculum. If the idea bothers you, go see a counselor. Your business would be appreciated.