Thursday. The counsellor and the client sit in silence. The counsellor pays attention to the client, wanting the client’s good. She can sit like this for days, if necessary. The client does not look at her, but is curled up in her large soft winged chair, looking at her hands folded in her lap, comfortable enough, silent.
I have no idea what the surroundings are like, the two are what matter.
I try to prompt, but can only think of prompts which are wrong. Fame? To hide? A job? Company?
I want Love-
I want to surrender
When my friend phones later, wondering why I have not gone to his house as arranged, I am dumbstruck. I can apologise but not explain. I have five, or seven, words, and nothing more. I have only just got up, at 2.15pm.
I should, I suppose, have gone into my ritual space, to meditate, to meet the silence where truth is, but- did not. Something in me stopped me. Yet I want to hear this deep unconscious. It might not be good for me: Licia’s was the most accomplished confidence trickster, wasting her life chasing illusion-
As I wanted, I am in that soft sweater and long soft skirt. I have Use of Weapons on my e-reader, something entertaining enough but unimportant. I have five words, and no plan of action, nothing further, only where I am now in the process, no light for the next step until I take it.