i've been thinking about this lately.
i've been to counseling of various sorts at least four times throughout my human being career.
i've always have been a big supporter of it.
but i'm not so sure anymore.
i mean, where has it gotten me?
i'm still weepy during sleepless in seattle.
i'm still petrified of heights and spiral stair cases.
i'm still obsessed with hockey fights.
i'm still concerned about how to split an eight slice pizza three ways evenly.
i'm still avoiding conflicts at every turn.
i'm still a tattle tale.
i'm still not able to deal with bully bosses.
and i'm still delusional about my calling.
on the bright side, i have gotten a better grip on this partnering thing—the takeaway being "always answer with questions", like the counselors do.
keaton, "do i look fat in these jeans?"
me, "why do you ask?"
keaton, "i don't know. i just feel fat."
me, "why do you feel fat?"
keaton, "just because."
me, "just because why?"
keaton, "oh nevermind."
me, "who nevermind?"
me, "how does that make you feel that i should nevermind?"
keaton, "ya see? now i can't even remember what i asked."
me thinking, whew!
personally, i suspect much of this improvement on my part is a mirage, sustained only by keaton's reluctance to come to her senses.
at least that's the scuttlebutt i hear on the street.