She got really quiet before she said it out loud.
Not that it’s an uncommon occurrence on the phone, but her voice on that day just got particularly silent.
Sometimes the initial phone consultation goes that way.
“What if we don’t make it? What if the effort that we put in – between him and I – and we come out on the other side still not even being good with each other?”
I prompted her to say more.
“What if the work I put in just isn’t enough? I think that’s what I am afraid of the most. What if we just wait on the other one to do the first step? What if, as we work through something in session, we cannot let go and it will just get worse and ruin the entire week, and we grow farther apart because the time between when we see you is too long?”
She was terrified that, as they take one peel off after the next, the time in-between would be intolerable. That they would lose sight of why they came.
She was terrified that by bringing up things that brought them to me in the first place, they would end up ruining it instead.
That they would lose sight of the end goal.
That’s when you remember love, I offer.
That’s when you say to yourselves – This is pretty ugly, and it feels pretty ugly, and we would so much rather be anywhere else in this moment rather than here (dentist’s chair included), but I know why we came.
I know what’s on the other side – and if you have a hard time remembering, I help you remember.
I help you remember love – I help you remember why you came.
Why you set out on this adventure in the first place.
And when it gets hard, I’ll throw you a rope to hold on to.
A rope that will be long enough to sustain the days in between session nine and ten. Or whatever session we happen to be on at the time.
Teaching you how to hold the space between is part of my job description.
And thou shalt not worry – I’ve got enough ropes.
I heard a sigh of relief on the other end of the line, swallowing her tears as she said: “Since you now spoke with both of us, when can we come in?”
