Therapy

I just finished my latest therapy session and all is right with me, my family, and the world. During my sessions I review my responses in a critical light and decide where I made my mistakes, where I had successes, and where I didn't even see the opportunity. As usual, I am my own worst critic and generally have higher standards for my actions and reactions than I expect from the people, family, and friends that I meet and greet everyday. I rehash the odd wording of an email that didn't get the response I was hoping for, relive the telephone call that required a delicate touch and I used my sledgehammer, the quiet conversation that I misread and ended badly.

I usually sit during my sessions, but sometimes I enjoy being on my feet, it gives me a new view of the world around me. I never saw my sessions as precious but as I have matured, or aged, or just gotten older and wiser, I covet my time in therapy. I can solve any problem in and with my business, heal all the wounds I have inflicted on my family, and even, I think, bring together world leaders and have them come to agreements about their countries and how they should govern wisely, or at least according to me. I know that as soon as I reenter the real world all my good intentions and bold decisions melt away as the ice in my water glass. And worst, my son has now taken away some of my time without even a thank you or appreciation of the opportunity he is given. Reflecting on his attitude I realize that when I started my sessions I did not realize the great gift I had, but only focused on getting through and on to the rest of my life. I suppose as he matures and moves away and starts a family of his own he will wistfully look back to these days as wasted opportunities to come to grips with his life and his future. I guess it is the way of all life - we don't know what we have until it is gone (I think this a lyric to a song).