Like many therapists, I know what it's like to dread having to write up case notes after my sessions, and how tempting it is to find ways to put off the task. But through the years, I've discovered that because of the many overlaps between psychotherapy and writing, broadening the definition of what it means to "write up case notes" can actually heighten my awareness of what's happening in my work.

As the pressure grows to do even briefer, more technical, symptom-focused, standardized treatments, poet, philosopher, and former priest John O'Donohue believes that therapy should be about awakening the human capacity for divine imagination.

Many walk into the therapist's consulting room exactly at the moment, and because of the moment, that they have been stripped to the core of their being. While not at the physical meeting-point of life and death, they are often at its emotional and spiritual equivalent. One element they seek and are desperate for, one element they usually feel they've lost, is beauty; they present a situation that's cut them off from experiencing beauty. They may not articulate it that way, but that's what's going on.

This March, poet, storyteller, and philosopher David Whyte—this year’s Symposium keynoter—returns to Washington DC to share his wisdom. Whyte specializes in helping people make sense of their life’s journey in a way that ordinary psychology can’t. In his latest book, he uses redefinitions of some familiar words to jog us awake and say, “Open your eyes! Watch! Listen! Smell! Pay attention!”

Toward the end of her life, a woman turns back the clock by performing the goofy ballet of her youth.

A son remembers a distant father and the bittersweet ritual that bonded them.

Three clinicians share stories of challenging cases that show how the most surprising outcomes often have nothing to do with therapeutic brilliance or technical wizardry.

A young child’s bedroom is a place for magic and enchantment.