"This is why therapy can feel, at times, like being an extremely articulate person who is also on fire. You can know everything about yourself and still watch the old pattern take the wheel." So good.
It's summer and people aren't writing comments here. They're on siesta, whatever. [Or, substack itself is, avoiding a "hot reload".] Which reminds me of kindergarden, where sleeping in the afternoon was sort of coercive for those who weren't collected by their parents. One thing that, even though — or perhaps precisely because — it happened to me only rarely, had a profound impact on me. I didn't dare to question it and choose better. At that moment, the kindergarten teachers were the guardians, and their authority was not to be questioned. So I learned early that questioning itself had to be questioned, that any feeling of being different or any asking for a favour should be considered a weirdness. The language of my body or a brain distracted by beautiful memories felt like a sin.
"This is why therapy can feel, at times, like being an extremely articulate person who is also on fire. You can know everything about yourself and still watch the old pattern take the wheel." So good.
Yes, you can explain the fire perfectly and still get burned by it. Thank you for your comment Nina 😊
You are doing better. 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
Better than??
Old Eleni (see, you expected something else) 😂
I expect everything from you 😅
"One thing is knowing the path (and you do, already, not bad!) and one thing is walking the path" ... Beautiful essay, again! ♥
Appreciate it Alessia 🤗
Brilluant, thank you 🙏
Thank you too Mariia 😊
It's summer and people aren't writing comments here. They're on siesta, whatever. [Or, substack itself is, avoiding a "hot reload".] Which reminds me of kindergarden, where sleeping in the afternoon was sort of coercive for those who weren't collected by their parents. One thing that, even though — or perhaps precisely because — it happened to me only rarely, had a profound impact on me. I didn't dare to question it and choose better. At that moment, the kindergarten teachers were the guardians, and their authority was not to be questioned. So I learned early that questioning itself had to be questioned, that any feeling of being different or any asking for a favour should be considered a weirdness. The language of my body or a brain distracted by beautiful memories felt like a sin.