Gary Keene

About the bowl

The bowl at the top of this page is a real one: broken, and mended with gold along the cracks rather than hidden. Superglue would have been quicker and cheaper, and nobody would have known. The gold takes time and costs something, and it leaves every break in plain sight. That isn’t a claim that the breaking was worth it. It says only that what broke was worth more than being quietly stuck back together and never mentioned.

People come to me for all sorts of reasons

Some know exactly what they want to talk about. Others only know that something isn’t sitting right, and can’t yet say what.

Often it’s grief, or anxiety, or the end of something. Sometimes it’s work: a job that has changed shape under you, a decision you keep circling, or the tiredness that comes of being the one other people rely on.

Some people arrive in the middle of things, with nothing yet mended and no wish to be told it will all turn out to have been worth it. That’s a reasonable place to start from too.

You don’t need a diagnosis, or a plan, or the right words. Those tend to arrive in the talking, not before it.

There’s a fuller account of what I work with, and of what I’m not the right person for.

What tends to change

Most people arrive having spent a long time trying to get rid of something: an anxiety, a grief, a mood that turned up without being asked for. A great deal goes into that effort, and it rarely works for long.

What tends to happen here is quieter and more useful. The thing stops being an enemy. It turns out to have a reason, often something to do with keeping you safe, and once that is clear the fighting can stop. People describe getting their energy back before the feeling itself has changed much at all.

Whether any of that is happening stays a live question between us. If the work stops being useful, I’d far rather be told early than late, and I’ll ask rather than leave it to you to raise. What changes in the coaching is a different matter, and there’s an account of it on the coaching page.

A little about me

I’m Gary Keene. I’m qualified in Gestalt therapy, person-centred counselling and coaching.

What that means when you are sitting with me is fairly simple. I won’t arrive with a method to apply to you; what we do gets worked out between us and revisited as we go. I’ll pay attention to what is happening between us while you talk, and not only to the account you are giving, because that is often where something moves. And when what you want is to get somewhere specific rather than to be understood, I can work that way too.

I’m a registered member of the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy, and there’s a fuller account of my training and accountability on the about page.

Before this I spent thirty years leading technology teams in large organisations. I know the particular weight of being the one others rely on, and I know what it costs to carry it with nowhere to set it down. I’ve had my own losses too, which is the other half of why I do this work now.

Most people want a sense of who they would be sitting with before they write. There’s more on the about page.

Counselling or coaching?

They’re two different pieces of work. Most people already know which one they mean; if you don’t, that’s a good thing to work out in the first conversation rather than before it.

Counselling sessions can also take place on foot in Richmond Park, for those it suits. More about walking therapy →

How I work

I start from you rather than from a method. Early on I’ll ask what you’re hoping for and how you’d like us to go about it.

Mostly what I do is listen, and I’ll let a silence run rather than filling it, which is usually when something arrives. I’ll ask when I haven’t understood rather than assume I have.

People sometimes ask how this differs from talking to a good friend. Mostly it’s that I have no stake in what you decide, no version of you to keep intact, and nothing to lose by hearing the whole of it. Friends have to live with your choices. I don’t, and that turns out to make some things easier to say.

There’s a fuller account of what an hour is actually like on the counselling page.

The first conversation is free

Before any regular sessions, I usually suggest a short conversation of around twenty minutes, at no cost. There’s nothing to prepare and no need to explain everything.

It comes first, always. You get in touch, I reply within a working day and suggest a time or two, and we talk. Nothing is booked and nothing is paid for until after that.

It’s mostly a chance for us both to get a sense of one another, since who you sit with tends to matter more than any particular method. We can talk a little about what’s brought you, and about how you’d prefer we go about it. You can ask me anything about fees, confidentiality or how I practise.

Counselling and privately booked coaching are both £70 for fifty minutes, with a small number of concessionary counselling places; coaching arranged through an employer is quoted separately. And it’s usually a series of conversations rather than a single one, though how long is yours to decide.

At the end you’re free to think it over, or to decide I’m not the right person. If that’s how it lands, I’d be glad to suggest some alternatives.

Arrange a free first conversation

Practical facts

Where

Kingston upon Thames, Richmond Park (walking sessions), and online across the UK

When

Mondays and Tuesdays, 7am to 7pm

Response

I aim to reply to enquiries within one working day

If you’re in crisis or need urgent help, neither counselling nor coaching is the fastest route. You can call the Samaritans free on 116 123 at any time, or contact your GP or NHS 111.