The Black Box.

It starts well, I feel that I'm talking to the person, not the role. He tells me his news, I join in. I am interested and sympathetic and ordinary. And I am aware that I'm in another one of the therapy forbidden zones ; the place of 'chit chat'.  But it seems OK? And he instigated it? So what goes wrong? He is saying - not dramatically, but directly and uncompromisingly - 'a theme, it's becoming a theme' He says  'that I'd asked him to talk about my latest assignment - but we always get side-tracked' Did I? I didn't ask him about that assignment? I seriously doubt it... And now I'm panicking!  Because the real problem must be my feelings for him!  They have leaked out?  Is it obvious? IT IS OBVIOUS! He knows... OK, breathe! But under the surface... No! Do not try to imagine what is under the surface! STAY ON THE SURFACE! To answer his observation with the truth is impossible!  I feel talked at.  I am being talked at. I'm never going ...

'He' in this case, is a lecturer for my course. It was Saturday - It was the way that my body, before I'd become aware... it was automatic, without thinking. Suddenly we were both holding each other's hands! I'd just come into the room - late! Next minute he was in front of me and - why were we holding hands?!  What happened?  This was the first time I'd seen him. He told me that I was in the wrong place "oh, this is actually a course on midwifery . You are in the wrong room!" and, as I know that he is a joker, I'd responded with "oh, no problem. This will be interesting, ****(his name)!"  He looks like my husband.  He moves like him.  I looked at him as if I'd been married to him for 25 years...  As a therapist himself he must have picked up my body language and gone with the flow!  As did I!  But, there was no desire. We are not each other's type at all! All we have in common is postmodern therapies !  And he is totally himsel...

I talk about what happened - I'd been on a trip to Arron . I'd got tickets to see the band that got me through my son's psychosis .  They cancelled.  I looked for my lost daughter in the streets of Glasgow .  I couldn't find her. He asks me, 'what was it like?' One more Portal map , one more weaving straw into gold, one more challenge that appeared to be impossible.  And I got through with out breaking or crumpling or giving up! I get the feeling that regardless of what ever I'd said his reply would have been the same, he says 'It's still very present isn't it ' a statement, not a question.  I say - "Is it? The memories are clear - present? It is unfinished. But it's me doing the best I can do..." He asks, or is it another statement -  'so why is there a problem now'? What?  In my family the recitation of disasters was a thing, the more awful the event, the more heroic is the teller of the tale! Regardless I stay with ...