Supervisory Reflection

Since graduation I have been “lucky” to work with two supervisors who are both brilliant professionals and great people. Although their style of work has many similarities it also has differences and on reflection these differences made me think how important is the supervisory relationship itself. Maybe most than anything else? As I am beginning this essay, for first time I really tried to imagine my own supervision style and the nature of my relationships with various supervisees. How I talk, how I sit, what interventions I bring, who would be my supervisees...the list is endless. I can't predict the future but certainly I would like to fill my supervision tool box with material from other supervisors enriched by my own learning and experiences.

I loved my job but for a long period an inner voice was telling me to return back in Greece. When I heard that the CAST training was moving to Central, another voice arose telling me to return there too (I did the Sesame course at Central). I could sing up for the CAST training while working up North and travel to London from there. This option sounds logical but it meant that I was taking the longest way to return back to Greece. I had to stay in England for another year. I felt in pressure of time and I chose to return in Athens and travel to London for the training, ignoring the practical (traveling/ economical) and emotional difficulties. Why I felt this pressure of time? What is my relationship to time? Why I chose to become a supervisor now?

The questions are popping in my head like flowers in a spring garden. I have this imagery where my first question “why did I really chose to become a supervisor” is transformed into a metaphorical door leading to mystery. How to understand this mystery? Usually when I have no answers and I am faced with the unknown I tend to turn to stories. The story that comes first in mind is the “The Story of Kirzai” found in a book by the philosopher and religious scholar Jacob Needleman (2003). The story is of unknown origins, a mystery, like my quest to answer the real reasons to become a