This week I discovered an unusual way to get to know people.
As I have said, one of the major reasons for this blog is to develop the discipline of writing often so that I will actually complete the book that I am committed to. It’s the life story of my friend, a Forgotten Australian, so called because they were abused and neglected in institutional care. The working title for that book is now Not Forgotten, who knows what it will be called eventually.
The psychologist’s chair is unassuming and a bit dirty. The grey fabric is the sort chosen by manufacturers when they know that a chair will get plenty of use and limited care. It’s not particularly comfortable and doesn’t invite you to linger or rest, but it is functional. For the last six years this chair has been my constant companion, and it has steadfastly held my clients as they have wept, grieved, fumed, hoped, planned, dreamed and laughed. Never once did it falter.
As I look at the empty chair, waiting patiently for the next client, I am reminded of the courage it takes to sit in that chair. Of my brave clients who come to meet a stranger, sit, share what hurts most and what they hold most precious. Then they to come back and do it again and again until the focus becomes the future, plans are made, change happens and laughter bubbles.
Thank you chair, I will miss you and your twin that I sit on.