As you might imagine – given the nature of this blog – I am a big believer in therapy. I love the whole bit. The couch. The kleenex. The tea and the tears. I have accessed some deep healing from traditional talk therapy with very gifted practitioners. I became fascinated by the depth and breadth of healing possible within the human spirit. So much so I went to graduate school for a time hoping to become a therapist in private practice. I didn’t finish the program for a number of reasons but I just may. That’s another post.
I have been on The Couch of a particular therapist on and off for nearly two decades. It started with a broken heart and opened a treasure trove of untapped memory and hope and inspiration and mostly Truth. I find it incredibly healthy and positive to engage in the therapeutic process. This lady learned of losing my mother, a surprise pregnancy, losing my father, my marriage, my children, my in-laws, reconnection, loss and love. The basics and then some. She knows it all. She retired a number of years ago but yesterday I saw her at a yogurt shop.
I was with two of my children getting a treat between errands when my eyes found the face I stared into many, many times as my unique truth crawled over me. Those eyes cradled my soul in safety as my secrets surfaced. And she protected it all with dignity and professionalism and beauty. She will forever hold a special place in my heart.
My children witnessed this special reunion – complete with long-held hugs and a damp eye. Of course they wondered who she was. I told them she was a special person I had known for a very long time. It seemed to appease them enough. I am not ashamed of my therapy – in fact I think everyone could use a dose; but decided my children were too young to get the whole picture.
“She’s nice,” they said.
As we were leaving the yogurt shop, I had one more chance to catch up with her. I told her I had become a certified yoga teacher. She had known of my attempts to become a therapist. She smiled at me and my children. Though I was in post-run workout wear with hair to match – she told me I was beautiful.
“What a healer you must be,” she said.
“No,” I said.
And we parted, my heart full. Just like old times.
It was a good day with my therapist.
I hope your day was good too. Who did you run into?