A Life Apart
Chapter 8: The Therapy Session (pg. 48)
“. . . I would like
you to participate freely in these sessions and to maintain regular attendance.
Can you do that?”
“I don’t know.” His forcefulness
had surprised her. The barrier between them, she sensed, was beginning to
crumble. Opening a door just a crack, she confided, “The more I think about
what happened to me the less real it seems. You speak of the psyche in terms of
the subconscious. There’s a large part of it that has not yet seen the light of
day, so how do we address it? What reality does it have before it manifests?
Perhaps what lays below the conscious level actually envelopes us and is
universal. We’re just not generally mindful of it. How can I talk with any
specificity about something that haunts us like a shadow?”
“You just did. You
told me how you honestly feel about the subject. So let’s talk about something
that is real for you. For example, you are not very enthused about being here.
Did I get that right?” Mirabelle nodded her assent. “You have already told me
that much, but I wonder if there is another undercurrent to your reluctance
about being here. I saw how your mother escorted you into my office. Do you
feel forced against your will?”
“It’s not that. My
parents often fail to respond to who I really am.”
“How did you feel
when she ostensibly pushed you into my office?”
Mirabelle started to
laugh. “Is this what they call clinical psychology? I ‘feel’ like a case study.”
The perplexity on Dr. Grey’s face made her aware that her impulsive bout of
humor was at his expense. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Let me explain.
I don’t resent my parents for the way they treat me. I love them and can
empathize with their situation. It’s true I’m here against my better judgment.
Nevertheless, I would not be here if I hadn’t chosen to please my mother.
Whether I continue to come to these sessions will also be my decision.”
Dr. Grey rose from
his desk chair. “I don’t usually conduct these sessions from behind my desk.
Your mother caught me off guard by her abrupt entrance.” He sat down in one of
the chairs across from Mirabelle. “May I call you Mirabelle? If you choose to,
you can call me Eli. It’s short for Elijah, my mother’s idea of an appropriate
name for a Jewish boy.” The doctor smiled.
Mirabelle also
smiled, not in response to the name ‘Eli,’ but at his too conventional attempt
at familiarity. “You can call me Mirabelle, if that will make you more at ease.”
Once again Doctor Eli
Grey seemed a bit befuddled. Quickly recovering, he continued, “Mirabelle, I
would like to know more about you. Do you think you could tell me about
yourself? Anything at all . . . anything you feel like saying, about school,
your course of studies, your friends, your interests, really anything at all.”
Instantly, Mirabelle
recognized Dr. Eli Grey’s capitulation. It would be difficult, she sensed, for
him to abandon his professional role. Suppressing another ‘knowing’ smile, she
began to talk at some length about her overall course of study and current
curriculum, revealing her knowledge of philosophy and elaborating on her
personal beliefs. As she went on, she became more animated; her language, more
expressive and intense.
“Don’t get me wrong.
I don’t believe that philosophy per se
is the finis suprema.
Sure, it helps us discern our place in the world and form our ethical judgment
so we don’t become mere automatons of our culture. But it has its limitations.
Most contemporary philosophy has abandoned what used to be called rational
psychology and, with it, metaphysics. And yet any honest investigation into the
psyche—your area of expertise—has to admit the value of introversion and the
discovery of universal themes as symbols of the transcendent.” The doctor’s
blank expression warned Mirabelle that she was being too academic. She took a
different tack. “You want to know what this all means to me, right? Well, I
believe there’s something at the heart of our desire for truth. That same
‘something’ is also at the very root of our moral consciousness, Kant’s moral
imperative. It even drives our so-called will to power—not as misconstrued ego
inflation, but as a compulsion to be united with the source of all power, the
very ground of our being. I feel in the very depths of my psyche not only the
impetus for self-discovery, but a siren call to something much greater. So I
agree with you that there are reasons to explore the psyche: therein are
answers to be found and fears to be confronted. You probably see it as the
covert repository of all our gods and demons, unique in each individual, though
collective in its relationship to human kind. I’ll grant you that much and
would expect no more out of therapy. But I also see it as the avenue of an
inward journey where I might touch the transcendent and learn to instill
meaning into my life. Maybe you can help me remove some obstacles in my
journey. For the rest, it’s up to me to figure out my ‘truth’ and its value in
the conduct of my daily life. In the end, I think how we carry out our lives
determines both our fulfillment as individuals and the betterment of our
community and environment. That's the wisdom I believe in. But, speaking
honestly, I can’t say I’ve learned how to achieve it.”
While Mirabelle was
talking, Dr. Grey was very attentive, captivated as he was by what she said and
how she articulated it. Her words were affirmed by the earnestness of her
expression and punctuated by graceful hand gestures. Her obvious intelligence
was framed so beautifully by her physical charm and beauty that the overall
impression was mesmerizing. Hesitatingly, he said, “You are an old soul in a
young body.”
Mirabelle rather
jumped at his remark. “Actually, I’m more a lost soul. What I just said has to
do with what I’ve learned and believe. But words don’t necessarily bring
meaning to a person. Philosophy—love of wisdom—seems to be more than what
reasoning can achieve. I mean, all the different ‘philosophical’ systems I’ve
studied disagree on many salient points. Yet many people have found meaning
either with or without adherence to one of these contradictory systems of
thought. So what I’ve just said may sound meaningful, may even be on the right
path to wisdom. Unfortunately, it only implies that I’ve figured out how to
live my personal truth. In fact, I haven’t. I think most of my life-decisions
are still in the future, so most of who I really am is still a mystery to me.
At times, I think I should dedicate myself to my studies and nothing else. At
other times, I feel like I’m failing family and friends because I’m not doing
anything for them. I can’t even find it in my heart to tell them how I really
feel. But the lack of authenticity in nearly everybody I meet repulses me to
the extent that I’m afraid of hurting people with my awful cynicism." She
paused, seemingly lost in thought. “Am I so arrogant that I often feel like the
only person that sees this?”
Finally, Dr. Grey saw
an avenue of approach. “Mirabelle, I don’t believe it's arrogance you are
characterizing. I think it is empathy. If you’ll forgive the biblical
reference, you have found the pearl of great price—your personal truth, as you
call it—and are prepared to give up everything for it. But at this point in
your life, it's not yet clear how you should proceed. Maybe, what's troubling
you is how to share what you’ve learned with others.”
“Yes,
maybe . . . without hurting them.”
“Perhaps your fear of
hurting others is a special kind of . . . let’s call it social phobia.
Generally, when we feel the pain of others we try to avoid it just as we would
avoid anything painful. That's why doctors sometimes put on a mask of
professionalism when dealing with patients, or paramedics find ways to . . .”
“I get your point,”
there was once again a touch of sarcasm in her tone, “a kind of 'social
phobia,' right? And I thought social phobia was a fear of social situations, a
reluctance to be in the company of others. I bet you’ll eventually come up with
a more definitive diagnosis.”
“Forgive my
training.” This time he would not be put off by her push-back. “Try to ignore
the limitations in the words I’ve learned to describe my thoughts. I only mean
to say that you’ll figure out how to relate to those you love. Even from this
brief time with you, I can see that you have much to share. Your empathy for
others may be holding you back now. But it's also driving you forward. I think
you want to find your role in society. Maybe you will become a teacher, a
social worker, a writer, or whatever will satisfy your need to communicate what
you so passionately believe and what you decide might benefit others. Perhaps
you need to give yourself time to find the role that fits you. Mirabelle,
you're still relatively young, but, I think, quite extraordinary.”
Mirabelle blushed. It
was time, she sensed, to change the subject of conversation.
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