I Won’t Sing You Lullabies
Originally published Dec 4, 2019
Preamble:
In 2019 I wrote a blog post a week for a year. Part of what prompted this initiative was a desire to stay accountable to myself and my dreams. At the time I imagined my writing to be focused largely around harnessing our individual and collective genius and creating “Community to Live and Die In” — a project that has remained steadfast in my heart and mind for as long as I can remember. It soon became clear, however, that there were young parts of me that longed to be heard, to be seen, and to be integrated. With the help of my writing mentor and friend, the one and only Pat Dobie, my weekly blogs soon became my “Year of the Child.” It is only in retrospect that I’ve realized it was the sharing of my stories that really made the difference — a way to honour my inner little ones, along with all their triumphs and their sorrows.
I’ll share other blogs in the coming weeks and months, with additions and updates on what I’ve learned since then. I’ll also use this for my own more heart-based writing about the inner work I find so compelling.
Today I feel called to share this one in honour of my beloved mentor, Andrew Feldmár. It was a joy to witness him introducing his new book Radical Adventure, An Inquiry into Psychedelic Psychotherapy at a Banyen Books virtual book launch this past Thursday, June 19 2025. Both the book and the interview are chock pack full of wisdom for anyone on the path of awakening — whether using substances or not. Do yourself a favour and have a listen!
I Won’t Sing You Lullabies
Originally published December 4, 2019
Nobody has been a bigger friend to my inner little girl than psychotherapist Andrew Feldmár. Our first introduction was in 2002. I was part of a small group that was assisting another therapist with process-oriented workshops, and our cohort met with Andrew to develop ethical guidelines. I’d never encountered anyone remotely like Andrew before, and I was more than a little awed by his direct and provocative approach.
We worked through some gritty stuff as a group and Andrew taught me the first of many lessons that I value to this day. I’d been offered a sincere apology and was waffling, not sure whether to accept it or not. Andrew instructed me: Forgive him or don’t forgive him, but don’t keep him dangling. Although withholding forgiveness would have been acceptable, I made the choice to forgive. I still remember the sensation of what it felt like to let something go that I’d been holding on to.
Two years later, when I found myself in deep personal distress, it was Andrew I turned to. I wanted someone solid, who I knew I could rely on. At one point I asked him if he could help me wake up. He replied, I’m not sure if I can help you wake up or not, but I promise I won’t sing you lullabies.
Looking back over the intervening years I see Andrew’s influence everywhere. His wisdom has guided me and challenged me and some of it has become a part of me. I call these nuggets of wisdom Feldmárisms. He encourages me to own them—to unequivocally claim them as my own—and maybe sharing some here will help me do that.
We spoke about desire in many of its guises. Andrew explained that we unleash our desires on each other regularly—that it’s basically human nature. And that some people are so exquisitely sensitive to the desires of others that if there is just the faintest whiff of a desire in the air, they will accommodate it unconsciously. So a therapist’s desire, even if it’s simply for the client to make progress in their life, could have detrimental effects. Andrew worked this out for himself by establishing a fee in exchange for a desireless atmosphere. His clients basically rent him and his undivided attention.
Not accommodating the desires of others can bring up feelings of guilt. Another recommendation from Feldmár is that when we have an opportunity to choose between guilt and resentment, we choose guilt. It’s painful and hard to do sometimes, but it’s over faster. Resentment is more insidious and it burns longer. He gave the example of someone asking to come and stay. If I say yes, even if I don’t want them to, I feel resentment from the moment I agree until the whole visit is over. If I say no, I may feel strong pangs of guilt but it passes faster, and in the end I’ve been true to myself.
Andrew believes that the major cause of unhappiness is powerlessness. This feeling of powerlessness may have started with a yearning to be held or comforted that wasn’t forthcoming. The child learns early, albeit painfully, not to expect too much. Other people’s desires become more important and when self expression is repeatedly thwarted, parts of our young selves go into hiding. In order to belong we accommodate and our unique aliveness is oppressed. In Andrew’s words: Oppression + lack of expression = depression.
I’ve been reflecting on what it takes to wake up the parts of myself that got so deeply disempowered at an early age. Perhaps the biggest thing that Andrew has given me over the years is encouragement. Encouragement to keep examining, exploring, noticing: What do you want more of, what do you want less of, and what’s just right?
The tendency to look toward others to see if I’m doing ‘it’ right (whatever ‘it’ is) runs very deep, but I know the road to freedom lies within. It takes effort—repeated effort—not to disappear on myself; not to be my own oppressor. Andrew encourages us to learn to LOVE to fight for our freedom. Freedom to be creative, spontaneous and fully self expressed. Emancipation!
Thank you, Andrew! I love you.
What would more freedom look like in your life? Let me know, I’d love to hear!
Click here to view the YouTube video I created that accompanied this post.