Waiting on Therapist

I was going to write about boundaries this morning, because yesterday I reread the chapter on it in Deborah Lott’s book, In Session. Definitely a must-read for those of us who struggle with setting limits. I guess that’s most of us.

Today, though, my thoughts are heavy with the bane of waiting on T. I am so, so not good at it. It is the place where the hill is steep, and my mind tumbles.

Little Me and Rational Me are conferring about it. No, I think they are arguing. Little Me is tired of waiting, anxious, agitated. Rational Me has many plausible, legitimate, not-about-me explanations. LM doesn’t care, isn’t interested in reasonable. Waahh, waahh, waahh. Surreptitiously, another voice joins the conversation. I think she’s called Shouldn’t Me. Little Me, she says, you shouldn’t be acting like such a baby. Grow up. Get over it. Critical Me chimes in: and you are stupid to feel this way!

 Little Me tucks her head, scrunches her shoulders and silently descends into places she has created for occasions such as these.

How much of human life is lost in waiting. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek. -Barack Obama

Go patiently, my friends –