Stoicism. Resurgence of CBT’s Grandaddy

My old mentor, Sebastin, fondly called Dr. Bassie by his many clients stopped by my office. Several years ago he’d bequeathed the whole shebang, furniture and accessories, to me, holding up the keys, saying, “It’s yours now. Watch your 6.” He’d smiled, fitted on the ball cap of his alma mater, Oklahoma U. and walked out the door of suite 101.

This day he sat on the couch, resting his cane nearby. I sat across from him in the sturdy, Norwegian wingback, which he’d done therapy from for over 40 years. “It’s still looking good,” he said about the chair. “Best purchase I ever made.” “I was surprised you didn’t take it with you,” I said.

Smile. He was approaching 90. Except for the cane he needed for bum knees, he looked no more than 70. He’d dropped by to chat, and out of generous curiosity, I knew to find out what my therapy leanings were about. Had I evolved or devolved? 

“Your hair is whiter,” he said.” Not much left on top, either.”

“Thanks for noticing.” Banter. “I should dye it like you do.”

Chuckles.

“So, are you still pushing your clients to find that special code?” 

“If a client bites into it,” I said. “As I remember, you always suggested the importance of having a philosophy to live by.”

He surveyed the office, the cluttered bookshelf with curios of personal mementos. “It always seemed to be a matter of approach,” he said.

His approach had been solution focused. He’d treated depression, anxiety and personal development and had always given his client something to work on. I had been one of them. 

He’d teased me that he couldn't get rid of me as a patient, so he had no other choice but to retire and give me the office. “You were the patient who wouldn't leave.” 

I handed him a frayed copy of the Enchiridion, I’d kept handy for discussion on the table beside me. He adjusted his spectacles. “Epictetus!” He thumbed through the small paperback book written by the Greek philosopher which was laid out with numbered thoughts on living.

“It’s not the thing, but what you think about the thing,” Sebastian said, about the Stoic philosopher’s main tenet. “We had this as reading material way back at OU.” 

“Impressive,” I said.

“I’m guessing you know Stoicism was at the foundation of CBT,” he said. “Albert Ellis was the only therapist who acknowledged Stoicism’s influence on it all; what’d he call his therapy?”

“Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy, REBT.”

“Right. Precursor to CBT. So, how are you weeding, uh, weaving this all into your sessions?”

“It depends. For the clients who come to vent, I let them. I remember you also said 1,000 hours of good listening works wonders.”

“Did I say that?”

“You did. Once I got my license, I became privy to your secrets.” 

“Oh, well you were an easy patient. You always came with a full hour of chattering. But as to Stoicism; not something in our sessions together we delved into much, as I remember.”

“Well, I only have two clients who seem interested in philosophy, but in addition to The Enchiridion, I got this guy.” I pulled out a shipping box and held up my new arrival, a bust of Epictetus. 

“A visual to spark interest,” Sebastian said. “He’s even got his cane.” 

“He’s a bit larger than I expected. I’m still looking for a place to put him. If there's a pause in a session and the time and topic seems appropriate, I draw out the eudaimonia triangle on the dry erase board.”  

“So, show me.”

I drew out a triangle, writing eudaimonia in the triangle's medial (center) and wrote-out under it, living well. At the triangle’s apex I wrote personal accountability. “We contemplate that concept and how it plays into their life. And that can be enough discussion for one session. The second piece of the triangle at Vertex B is the dichotomy of control.” 

“Ah, a tenet of … life. And adopted by AA, the meat of the  serenity prayer. God grant me…...”

“Right. Both A and B of the triangle are obviously interrelated.

“Then, under C, I list the virtues of Stoicism. Remember what they are, old wise one?”

“I’m retired. Tell me.”   

“Temperance, Courage, Justice and Wisdom. I define them and we talk how each might relate to their life; wisdom being the last one. It’s the universal quality which has the others under it.” 

Sebastian studied the board. “So, you're experimenting?”

“It’s all an experiment, didn’t you once say to test what works in therapy. And what doesn’t.” 

“Always different strokes for different folks, it seemed. I suppose it's useful for clients to understand where such therapies as CBT come from. And giving them an orientation is helpful in their understanding of themselves. But I’m not sure how many people who come to therapy want to explore a philosophy, or even consider a creed or a code, and how that plays into their living.” 

“You’re probably right. Somewhere, someone said that philosophy creates structure, which helps calm one,” I said. “I don’t think that was you.”

“Good, you're listening to other people.”

“But, in today’s therapy world a lot of clients hear the word tool box which says they need more, so..”

“Bull shit to add to their lives.” Chuckle. Pause. “I will say, Mike, that because Stoicism was the first kid on the block it’s got credibility. It’s simple. A kind of working man’s therapy, or so someone said. So, Epictetus would approve.” 

We studied the board some more to the flushing of the toilets from the upstairs offices, while we filled in the other about our lives; he with five sons and a brood of grandchildren, until he groaned a bit and hoisted himself up with his cane. “It’s lunch time. Lane wants me home. Been your pleasure talking to me, I’m sure.”

“And likewise,” I said. 

“You're doing good.” At the door he turned. “Oh, here’s one for you, since you accuse me of saying the profound. How does it go? To treat the two impostors of triumph and defeat the same, then all of this earth and what’s in it will be yours. But more importantly, you’ll be a man, my son… Kipling, I think.”  

“I should frame that.”

“You might have to reword it for your female clients, though. Watch your 6,” he said. Quick smile.   

I watched him through the slats in my office window, slowly easing into his new BMW SUV. It’d been a good thing to have had a mentor. I gave a nod of thanks to the heavens.