Personality and Talent

“My mother literally made gin in the bathtub; it was part of how she made money. She also had

men ‘guests’ in the apartment, and unfortunately, she didn’t always protect me from them,”

Daphne remarked as she spoke of her childhood in Brooklyn, New York.

“I never had, or knew, a father; it was always just me and my mother,” she said. “But I could

sing, boy, could I sing! And that’s how I was able to fly away from Brooklyn.”

“No matter the noise around me, I always had singing going on inside me; I just sang and sang so

I could stay in myself,” she said. “I didn’t have anyone to teach me, I just listened and learned

when I heard anyone sing.” Daphne flew across Europe and across the U.S. as she pursued her

singing career. “I sang for Kings and Queens in Europe, and I knew loads of famous people,” she

wistfully reflected.

Daphne was now 84 and resided in a nursing facility. She used a wheelchair, and she spoke in a

raspy voice due to polyps on her vocal cords. As a result, she would not sing one note, as she

knew it would never again sound like it had when she was younger. But she would laugh, and

she would share her stories, and she was always curiously asking about the stories of other

people, even mine.

We often sat for psychotherapy in a small TV room in her unit. The room was about 8 feet wide

by 10 feet long; just space for a loveseat, one chair, her wide wheelchair, a small TV on the wall,

and a window looking out at the woods behind the facility.

During one session Daphne was speaking about the ironic balance of shyness and confidence of

a performer. “How about you, you seem calm, but do you feel shy, or do you feel confident,” she

asked? I explained that when I was younger, I went to acting school, partly because someone

wrongly suggested to me that taking up acting was a way to overcome shyness. Daphne laughed,

and asked, “Well, so how did that work out, anyway,”?

Daphne had a regal quality, along with her charmingly refreshing genuineness. Her issues in

therapy were related to acceptance of aging and reduced functional independence, and tolerance

of the loss of her singing voice, and easing of suffering due to abuses experienced in her

childhood. Daphne was intolerant of anything phony, she had seen too much in her life; and seen

through the disguises of so many persons. I could not have ‘played the part of a therapist’ with

Daphne and hidden behind neutrality; my choice was to meet her on the terms she expected of

authentic sharing, or nothing.

She roared with laughter as I told of the nausea and fear I had experienced before a stage

performance, and my delighted excitement during the performance. That pattern continued with

each show - dread in anticipation, and elation while acting - and, no, I certainly never got over

being shy, I explained, as she threw her head back and laughed.

“So, why did you give it up,” she asked? I did not think it would be a successful, or tolerable,

career - I could hardly tolerate putting myself through those ups and downs, so I went back to

school to get a master’s degree to practice psychotherapy. “Well, didn’t you still have those same

ups and downs in your new career,” she asked, with her bright and penetrating gaze?

I would sometimes give talks or make presentations at professional conferences, and would

experience the same nauseating apprehension, and then the same enthusiastic enjoyment while at

the podium. “Of course, I knew it,” she laughingly stated! “Let me explain to you why that

happens,” she said.

“That’s the difference between personality and talent. Your shyness and your anxiety about

putting yourself in the spotlight, that’s personality. But the joy and enthusiasm you felt when

performing, in one way or the other, is talent. Talent and personality are not the same thing, but

so many performers harm themselves because they never understand the difference,” Daphne

wisely explained.

Daphne used examples of famous performers who confused their personality with their talent,

and who got caught up in the projections of fans who thought that their personality ought to

match their talent; and who developed problems because they could not, and should not, blend

the two things that were categorically different.

Sometimes in psychotherapy a client is vulnerable and in need of guidance and strict boundaries,

and straightforward application of therapeutic techniques. In nursing facilities, I sometimes work

with residents who have diagnosed mental disorders, and who need formal and conventional

psychotherapy. Yet sometimes the resident seen in therapy does not have a psychiatric disorder

but may wrestle with real life problems such as illness or loss, and who may benefit from a less

formal educational and supportive approach.

Daphne was wise and resilient, and she lived vibrantly, even when she was less able to function

on her own. Her wisdom, her humor, and her curiosity about the lives of others were key

strengths, and they found a place in our therapeutic conversations.