Yet he could also write about shadows, those things that are hidden, and those things that are unknown to us.

The places of unknowingness, those times when we cannot see — they are crucial to the practice of psychotherapy.

While evidence-based methods and outcome studies are essential, human beings and human relationships will never be quantifiable. Trying to work with a therapist who sees clients as physiology, parenting, brain function, or even an amalgam of these is never transformative, even when it is helpful.

The best therapists are willing sometimes to work in the dark, to have the fortitude to be with a client when being-with is the only authentic and appropriate methodology.

One of the best psychotherapists I know is totally blind. It is profoundly true that we cannot see until we stand in the shadows, and we cannot know until we embrace our unknowing.

We can only approach truth from the place of mystery.

A rather intriguing concept, this one. You don’t hear people say, “I still hate him, but I’m not in hate with him.” And we could go down the list of feelings people can have for one another.

With one exception, love appears to be the only emotion we can “have” and also “be in.” And that one exception is fear. We can fear someone and also be in fear of them.

Are the linguistics here indicative of a psychic truth?

Extreme states of being in love, sometimes called infatuation, are physiologically similar to extreme states of fear, even though one is experienced as pleasurable and the other as painful. It illustrates the psychic reality that being in a feeling is more of a total body experience than having a feeling.

Being in love or in fear can literally swamp our thinking brains and overwhelm our perceptions.

So does this have something to do with no longer feeling “in love” with someone?

Most definitely. While in the heightened emotional state of being in love we can experience our beloved as the fulfillment of all our wishes, and see them as the embodiment of everything we believe we lack. Possible rational thoughts from our thinking brains are but peashooters against this groundswell of euphoria.

However, as we know, all highs have a half-life, and recovering our thinking brain can initially feel like crashing against the rocks. It is tempting to blame our partner for this, and to feel they have betrayed or deceived us.

But if we can hang in there while we detox, we have the chance to come to see our partner as they really are. The journey of real love can begin. As we come to tolerate and even embrace our partner’s flaws, we can come to do the same with our own.

Love is measured by depth, not by height.

Recently I took out the piece — just to see. To say I played it would be using the term rather loosely, but I did persist. And as I persisted some life lessons came to mind.

1. You can’t butcher Beethoven. When something is as beautiful and profound as his music, it takes a lot more than mistakes to ruin it. The same goes for other beautiful and profound things, such as courage, compassion and truthfulness.

2. Work it out or let it go. There were passages where I had to laboriously pick out the notes one by one to figure it out. Other times, it only worked if I just let go and let it happen. With piano playing, bike riding and such this is called implicit memory. But there are also other times in life where we can’t make it happen, we can only let it happen.

3. Flats and sharps each have a place in the score. There are people who would rather take it down a notch than up a notch, and there are people who are just the opposite. Both play well in the end.

4. Be adaptable. I confess there were passages I just couldn’t get, so I sang them. Even Tom Chapin hasn’t gotten around to putting words to “Sonata Pathetique,” but it didn’t seem to matter. There are times in life when we’ve just gotta sing, even when there aren’t any words.