My last visit reminded me of my Sociology 101 class. That class was taught by an amazing person, and there are times in a person’s life when they are ready to accept certain types of knowledge into their life – both those things came together in that class. One of the things I took with me was the lecture on the difference between circles and spirals.
If a person walks in a circle, they will eventually arrive in the same place. Their perspective through the journey eventually returns to its origin, and the net result is no lasting change takes place – the next time they walk the circle they will walk it exactly the same way…over and over. Now, if a person walks in a spiral, be it upward or downward, it feels very much the same. However, the net result is a lasting change – the next time they walk the circle they will end up higher or lower.
It’s kind-of an abstract metaphor, but hopefully it conveys here because year after year and chapter after chapter there have been some spirals going on in my life. Each time, things change a little… but it is still rooted in a circle. Now, in the classroom, the metaphor was supposed to make us feel better or feel like we were making progress, but I am thinking, lets pick up both sides of that lesson.
“Good Morning, Dr. Thegan,” I said as I entered her office.
“Hello Mr. Smith,” she greeted me with her usual, professional tone.
I usually sat down in my comfy chair, and then she would get up from her desk and come over to sit in the chair across from me. But I didn’t sit in the chair. I walked across the room. She looked up from her papers – she was visibly confused but not trying to show it.
I walked to her side of the desk and held out my hand.
“What is this?” she asked.
I smiled softly and offered my hand again.
She humored me. Her chilly, white fingers slid into my grasp as she rose out of her chair.
We both faced each other, and I took the opportunity to pull her towards me just a little. I leaned forward and gave her a short kiss. Thankfully her lips weren’t as cold as her hands.
“I don’t think I will be seeing you again,” I said.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“At least,” I continued,” not here. Our walk taught me something.”
“What is that, Mr. Smith?”
“I don’t ever want to see you in a lab coat again.”
She just stared at me blankly. I gave her hands a short squeeze and then released them.
“I am going to write an educational script and get the video produced within 60 days. Within 12 months, I will launch GICTA.”
As though she hadn’t heard me, she asked,”Why don’t you want to see me again?”
“I do want to see you – just not here, and not in a lab coat,” I clarified, “I will see you on the battlefield. You are no longer my therapist.”
“What am I, then? And why did you just kiss me?”
“I’m not sure. I just know you don’t wear blush and I had to do something to get those cheeks of yours a little more rosy.”
She smiled. Yeah, in my story, it doesn’t end with me getting sued for kissing my therapist. W00t!
“So,” I continued, “lets get together and talk about the educational video, yes?”
“OK,” she agreed.
“Does that mean I can have your number?”
She looked at me quizzically, “You already have my – ohhh, that number. Sure, it is (636) 393-8823.”
“I will call you and maybe we get together in the next week or so?”
“Sure,” she smiled. She was still a little stunned.
So, that was that. I left the office and 2011 was looking a little more solid. But then, fate has its own plans and the truth, like so many things on this planet, will only be known through hindsight. Even hindsight might be shaky.