I Was a Happy – if Naive – Graduate Student

I have never been much of a rule follower. In fact, I tend to receive the endless, and often erroneous, strictures of my society with disdain and a hearty dose of skepticism. 

When I was in my mid twenties, a happy – if naive – graduate student in Clinical Social Work, I was introduced to Ethics when I saw it listed in my third semester’s course load. It was half a credit, while all the other courses including Human Development and Statistical Research Methods (imagine me sticking my fingers down my throat here), were one or more credits. 

Nonetheless, despite being introduced to Ethics as if it were a second-rate, not-really-legitimate area of study on its own, I was beyond excited. The thought of sitting in a room with my classmates, debating about real-life examples of helpful versus harmful behavior was utterly thrilling. How would we decide?! What if we messed up?! What if it wasn’t cut and dry?! What would I learn about my classmates?! Hell...what would I learn about myself?! I imagined being offered complex narratives of ‘if this’, ‘then that’, ’but only when’, and the inevitable  ‘NEVER when!’ Some of the courses I had taken so far had moments of this kind of real world ‘do or die’, but in my imagination, this Ethics course was going to top them all, by far.

I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this. The actual course was nothing like my fantasy Ethics course. We didn’t work complex real life scenarios. We didn’t bring in our own past experiences of ethical breaches and stellar moments. We talked a lot about Socrates and Aristotle – whom I was certain would not be a source of support and wisdom when I was sitting with my future clients. We almost argued about whether values are the same as morals which may or might not be the same as ethics. The overwhelming result of this course on Ethics, that was a whole lot like all other clinical master’s degree courses on Ethics, was that I (and I’m fairly certain everyone else in the room) caught up on much-needed sleep. As we were patted on the heads and ushered out of the last class, we were reminded that we would be operating under a strict code of conduct that would fairly tightly prescribe our behavior with our clients. Oh thank goodness. End of story. Nothing else to think about. No worries whatsoever.

Fast forward twenty years, and ten years ago, as I was transitioning my private practice from that of a fairly traditional psychotherapist, (mostly) operating under the strong-arm of the Department of Regulatory Agencies (DORA) in sunny Colorado, USA. I had realized the limitations of my role as a psychotherapist and had already become a certified sexological bodyworker. I made the decision to let go of my license to practice psychotherapy so I could more fully develop the hybrid practice of the two modalities. 

And that’s when the moment occurred. Just days after I deliberately failed to renew my psychotherapy license I was sitting with a client whom I’d been seeing for a few years. And for those of you in private practice, let me tell you, this is that kind of client. The kind of client who is clearly as much of a Muse to us as we might be a guide to them. Sitting with this person I realized I was operating without a prescribed code of ethics and conduct. In that moment I experienced a flush of fear, then diffuse energy, then a flood of excitement, possibility and gravity. An appropriate amount of humility and nausea followed. 

Where would my decisions come from, if not from DORA?! Who would watch over me if not for ‘them’ (whoever ‘them’ was, since it’s not like I ever met anyone at DORA, or ever, in my twenty years, had a single personal or intimate exchange with any of the ‘anyones’ in the entire agency)? Where would my clients turn if they felt unsafe or (god forbid) harmed or violated by me?! It was a moment that, in retrospect, was a lot like leaving home at 15 and realizing that, mostly, I was on my own to determine how I would conduct myself and what sort of human I wanted to be. Except back then, if (really, when) I messed up, I was mostly only harming myself.

Within weeks of being a lone practitioner out of the golden handcuffs that is DORA, I was feeling the ethical muscles I never knew I had, muscles I’d never had to use because my behavior, within the carceral model of ‘bad’ and ‘good’ behavior, and the do’s and don’ts it requires, was always cut and dry. Being outside my former container, combined with being a practitioner in a body-based modality that includes the entire body and the critical terrain or our erotic nature and arousal, had me feeling alive and accountable in a way I had not felt, even once, in my previous two decades of practice. 

But it also made me aware that I was longing for, bereft of, and desperately requiring a dynamic, rigorously ethical community of diverse practitioners with whom I could finally – finally! – develop the ethical musculature required of truly, organically, independently intelligent, engaged and generative practitioners. Just a decade later, I can honestly say this community has taken root in the form of the Institute for Erotic Intelligence and beyond that, all the tremendous practitioners globally whom I am so blessed to know and interact with.

I have taken my experience to heart. And I’m so thrilled to announce that because both this process of personal development, and the terrain of embodied ethics as a study, is very important to me (and my intrepid colleagues at the IEI), we’re offering a course, called The Source of Embodied Ethics. This is the course I wished I’d had thirty years ago. 

Beginning Thursday March 4th at 9am MST, this weekly, 8-week exploration and deep dive, will invite us to examine our individual narratives about what it means to be an ethical human being, unraveling some of the fallacies and imprinting we received from family, societal and religious institutions, and the carceral system that has deeply imprinted us all. We will work vigorously with each other to excavate our own unique ethical threads to weave a story that invites us into our responsibility and our care, while requiring of us that we acknowledge our personal and role power so we can discover how to engage with it, in right-relationship. We will wrestle with questions that include, ‘does it ever work to create black and white rules and codes?’ And ‘how do we handle the inevitable breach of ethics and situations of harm?’ Before all of that, we will have to confront our own internalized patriarchal and dominator narratives that tell us that only ‘bad’ people do bad things. 

Of course, if our intention is to understand where harm comes from and how to stop it, we will have to reorganize ourselves to understand that it is not only individuals who harm. We will have to refocus our lens to understand that cultures, communities and societies within which harm routinely occurs are just as culpable as the individuals. We must explore what it means to create a culture of transformative justice rather than carceral over-lording. What, within each of us, must transform to allow us to participate generatively in cultures and communities that refuse to condemn anyone; communities that holds themselves accountable as much - and sometimes even more so -  than the individuals in question?  

Together we will develop this nascent curriculum at a time when it couldn’t be more critical that we do so. True fundamental healing will not happen if we have not developed the musculature to make decisions in the organic unfolding moment of our client’s journey. If we have not been supported to remember who we are, and to whom we belong, we will not be capable of seeing the opportunities as they naturally and unpredictably arrive, moment-to-moment.

Whether you’re a psychotherapist, a therapeutic massage practitioner, a somatic practitioner or a sexological bodyworker, you are welcome and we’d be thrilled to take this journey with you. We hope you’ll join us!