Wednesday, January 22, 2020

End of January


The world, and our country, are skirting the sewer’s rim at all times, slouching and dancing around it blind, while a middle-aged woman in my office starts to grow an ego. A teenager, though resisting, feels cared about for the first time. A man loses the ability to be a serial killer. A young woman leaves her family and finds herself. A suicidal man holds on, despite himself.

Does this mean we can help the world only by seeing one person at a time in a closed door room? There’ve been billions of lessons created in all our history, relegated to the sky, all old and new racing in the winds forever, out of touch. They’ve never made a transformation. It’s not lessons that help.

Looking at everything, you’d think it was difficult to be moral and to be gracious to oneself. The fact that we have a limited life doesn’t change people. The fact that our life in the universe is simultaneously necessary and impossible doesn’t change people. Just the touch of understanding and of care does. A quiet room.

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Comments are welcome, but I'd suggest you first read "Feeling-centered therapy" and "Ocean and boat" for a basic introduction to my kind of theory and therapy.