breaking up

i guess i am beginning to get used to the fact that I will never get used to living in Boston. although i do feel a bit lighter now that I’ve removed myself from a context and environment that had grown unwieldy and stale. and I get great pleasure when I hear friends and family tell me how everyone they talk to is shocked that I left Chicago. We were ingrained in each other, rather than nurturing each other.

there’s something about the word “nurture” that makes me feel uncomfortable. it makes me think of sucking. maybe Chicago and I were sucking each other dry. Which is the opposite of nurturing.

So here’s the Jungian update. My 2nd appointment with Jungian #3  was very abbreviated because she rejected me from her practice. She said she thought I needed more of a “support system” than she could offer. Especially since she was going to be away for the rest of the summer and probably the fall and when she returned she would only be seeing patients/clients/customers one day/week. And she did not have room for me. And she said even if all of her patients/clients/customers chose to switch to Jungian #1 or #2, even if she had lost every source of income and was forced to perform Jungian analysis on the streets,  she would still not want to take me on as a new patient/customer/client.

I’m not quite sure what happened in between our first session when
she welcomed me into her practice and our breakup session. I think the
only explanation is that I did not hear her correctly the first session because she was speaking so softly, barely above a murmur. I probably misheard everything.

Which reminds me that you should always take notes while the therapist is taking notes. So nobody is forced to speak and the chances of being misheard are virtually nil.

I think it would be wise to take notes at all times throughout the day, and of course, when asleep.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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