About Me
Before becoming a counsellor, I spent a period working in a library, then in university administration and finally as a needlewoman with my own craft business. You can see a piece of my applique below. Creativity is still an important element of my life and, these days, my main creative medium is writing - especially poetry. You'll find two of my pieces at the bottom of this page. I find that my poems often grow out of my personal practice of Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes (CWTP). If you are interested in finding out about CWTP and trying it for yourself, you are welcome to contact me.
I believe that honouring and expressing our creativity can play an important part in our journey of healing and personal growth. So I generally keep that in mind in all my counselling work. For those who earn their living in the Arts, emotional and psychological wellbeing is frequently crucial to a sustained career, and here counselling can make a significant difference.
Owl (Applique picture, copyright Susan Gully, 1995)
Qualifications
Professional Memberships:
British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy (Accredited Member since 2009)
National Counselling and Psychotherapy Society (Accredited Professional Registrant 2024)
- Practitioner Certificate in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes (Metanoia Institute, 2022)
- Level 2 Internal Family Systems (IFS) (internalfamilysystemstraining.co.uk, 2020)
- Online and Telephone Counselling (counsellorcpd.com, 2020)
- Level 1 Internal Family Systems (IFS) (internalfamilysystemstraining.co.uk, 2019)
- Diploma in Working with the Spiritual Dimension in Therapy (Network Counselling and Training, 2012)
- Postgraduate Diploma in Counselling (University of Strathclyde, 2007)
- Certificate in Counselling (Queen's University Belfast, 1997)
Counselling Experience
I have worked as a counsellor for a national bereavement charity, for the NHS, for a generic therapy centre, and for a commercial firm engaged in workplace counselling.
Areas I can often help with
- Anger-management
- Anxiety
- Assertiveness
- Bereavement
- Bullying
- Childhood issues
- Confidence
- Depression
- Family and parenting problems
- Health issues
- Relationships, including separation and divorce
- Relaxation
- Stress-management
- Suicidal feelings
- Work problems
- Women's issues.
I can answer questions about my background and experience, either by phone on +44(0)7581 325846 or email, to susangully@googlemail.com
Poems
Newgrange
Twenty-five years ago, we went –
his brother, friend and I –
by train, through hills
sealed down with cloud,
then taxi, getting out
to rainy air.
The wide, grass-covered mound
looked damply strokable –
curved wall of stone in front.
I think we had to duck
to go inside.
I know I was surprised
how dry it was in there:
amber-lit slabs,
retreating doorways
led our footsteps on.
Deep spirals
carved in passage walls;
my finger traced around
and back again –
within, without.
We were led straight,
though what was in the middle
made no sense.
Time moves through passages.
In dreams, or Dreamtime
at the centre lies
a single otter-human-fox,
curled up, and sound asleep,
awaiting light.
(Copyright Susan Gully)
A stranger place
the dark eyes of these children go back centuries
hands they clap in time brown legs swing barefoot
above our ragged circle is the hot blue sky
voices flying as invisible birds
hands they clap in time brown legs swing barefoot
we stand sit lean together
voices flying as invisible birds
something eager stumbles tumbles out
we stand sit lean together
speaking or singing? sound breaks over itself like water
something eager stumbles tumbles out
no scent of afterwards only later I’ll long to return
speaking or singing? sound breaks over itself like water
above our ragged circle is the hot blue sky
no scent of afterwards only later I’ll long to return
the dark eyes of these children go back centuries
(Copyright Susan Gully)
Life-coaching tips for salmon
Forget the bright and early loch-life years
out shouldering with your mates,
although they built
team spirit in the soul. Good times for sure,
but easy. It will not be easy now,
for you must go
a way that makes no sense.
Listen: you have a compass
and it speaks. Perhaps you haven’t heard it
until now,
distracted as you’ve been
by ocean waves,
the wind’s loud cheer
at skipper-surfing grace;
its groan when you flicked water
in its eyes.
Good times, for sure. Good exercise,
but easy.
Don’t expect easy now.
Listen: your inner compass speaks
and says one river claims you,
charms you home.
However long it takes
You must leave all and go
away from easy.
Listen when things taste brackish -
a sea-change.
Then notice something else -
particular as pipe-smoke,
the calling hider
that you seek,
stirring up songs
of your first love:
fern-drenched outpouring
of so-clear slate shallows:
heathered
birth river.
Feel into your body,
which is different:
changes you can’t help,
forced on you.
Some things lost,
never to be regained.
Not easy.
Suddenly,
each stroke is effort.
Uphill heave all day.
At times leap high,
at others fall, knocked
back
breathless.
Smarting with smack
of rock that shaves the quick,
scalped skin.
“This is not dignified,”
you’ll think.
Nor bloody easy.
There are no promises,
but tell yourself you’ll make it.
Some of your friends
may fall along the way,
helplessly washed downstream.
Lose some of your self-salt
in a fresh well
that hurts like, hurts like
hell,
then keep on moving.
Skirt, if you can, the whirlpool’s
swallow.
It may not all be hard.
Sometimes, when water widens slow,
dandles you over sparkling silt,
bonnie as a bath,
you may relax a little;
but even here, beware
the thunder thighs of eagle,
his maybe missile strike,
too-easy grab and carry.
Guard carefully the heavy purse
that’s you,
and don’t be easy
food. Try to eat plain,
but varied.
Stick to what you recognise.
Bright-coloured snacks
will only draw you, hook you,
hang you
(by looking easy).
And when you reach
the rush of wished-for
water you call
home,
expect more changes.
New lease of life?
Or time to think of
legacy. To pass the skill,
the thrill,
the secrets
not won easy.
Then drift down, placid, motionless
among the cool, dim reeds
and dream
easy.
(Copyright Susan Gully)
upcycling in 1740
"The great Handel has told me that some of his best ideas come from songs he has heard in the street."
nobby Mr H old grey wig eariwigs
cold corner brandy shop Tyburn way
hears a pure young voice John Shaw hawker boy
buy my matches John sings all day
old grey tipsy wig tune-angling on the sly
fishes in his coat skirts finds a small quill
jots a line of quick notes black boot running notes
pockets John’s song and drinks his fill
tubby Mr H is pleased as punch now
gives John sixpence shakes his hand
dreams an oratorio not about matches
big bone biblical thund’rously grand
(This poem was published in the Community Arts Partnership Manifest anthology, 2024.)
