Sometimes it feels like all week I’m packing sacks of grain.
Preparing grist for the therapy mill.
Trying to remember every moment of discomfort, every unresolved issue.
Making mental notes, flagging thoughts, marking down things I need to address in my session.
And then I feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount I need to grind, because we can’t do it all. Can’t talk about all. Can’t resolve it all in this small window of time.
And often I bring so much grist, the overfed mill stalls and sputters, refusing to process so much grain at once and it leaves things at a standstill.
I become mute and overwhelmed.
And I go home with all the bags I so painstakingly packed.
And I say: This mill — what’s it worth? I need a bigger mill. I need more time at the mill!
See how many sacks of grain I have? If I don’t bring them all along, they crowd up my living space, my very lungs. I can’t live with all that unprocessed grain cluttering up…everything.
And so I sit, resigned, on my unopened sacks of grain and tell that to my therapist.
“Is this really about processing every grain here in therapy?” she wonders.
“Do you think we need to pick up every thread?
“Or maybe… it’s not about whether we process it all, but about the process?
Maybe it’s just about showing up, presenting just yourself and what you bring with you?
You can bring the sacks when you want. The mill is working.
But you can also come empty-handed, and we’ll have a look at what’s perhaps the best grist for the mill.
