Fluidity without Fear

His words were doing something to me. Did I just say his? Her words were moving my imagination in unexpected directions, which was a good sign. The therapeutic process was in motion. Yet part of me seemed unprepared for this receptive role, which alarmed me since listening to others was at the heart of what I did. We’d been in the room together for eight or ten minutes. In therapeutic time, hours remained before we would say goodbye. Or maybe there wouldn’t be a goodbye, the images of which made me anxious: she would walk out of the room without glancing at me, or the look on her face would make me doubt that I would see her next week. Part of the reason I’d been in psychotherapy and psychoanalysis myself for years was to learn how to deal with such inner conflictual moments. Yet here I was, struggling with images in my mind and emotions in my body, while the woman across from me remembered a trip to Rome with her family years earlier. On some level, was she speaking about wanting to escape from daily life? This didn’t feel right, at least for the moment, and once again I thought: her words are doing something to me. Minutes were disappearing into what would soon be a previous session. The trip to Rome years ago had become part of the present in her mind. It was the last time she remembered having enjoyable moments with both of her parents. As I listened to her say this, something inside of me started to change, a moment to moment kind of change. Everything happening inside of me was fluid. Fear had disappeared, for now.

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