Creatures of a Day: And Other Tales of Psychotherapy by Irvin D. Yalom Read Free Book Online Page B

and I are both living souls, and then I thought, I’m no better than him. ”
    “And the feelings that accompany this dream?”
    “At first I was so glad to see my dog again. You see, Baloo died three weeks before we left for the US. He was my companion for sixteen years, and I’ve had a hard time getting over my sadness. In fact I welcomed my trip to the US because I thought it might help me get over my grief. Are you a dog owner? If not, you won’t understand.”
    “No, I’m a cat lover, though, and I think I can appreciate the depth of your pain.”
    She hesitated and nodded as though she were satisfied with my answer. “Yes, it was very deep. My husband says too deep. He thinks I was over-attached to Baloo and that he was a substitute child. I don’t think I told you that I have no children.”
    “So, in the dream, you’re traveling on the same road that Baloo took weeks before, and then you looked deep into his eyes and said, ‘We’re both living souls, and I’m no better than you.’ What do you think the dream is trying to communicate?”
    “I know what you’d think.”
    “Tell me.”
    “That I know I’m walking on the road to death like Baloo.”
    “Like all living souls.”
    “Yes, like all living souls.”
    “And you, what do you think?”
    “I think this whole conversation is making things worse for me.”
    “In that you’re more uncomfortable.”
    “A few more healing sessions like this, and I’ll need to go home by ambulance.”
    “All the symptoms you described yesterday—being removed from life, being insulated, not being in your life—all served to anesthetize yourself from the pain inherent in being a living soul. Let’s look at how we began. You entered my office with your photograph—”
    “Oh no, not that again!”
    “I know you forbade me to discuss it, but I’m disobeying you because it’s too important. Please listen to what I’m going to say. You know all this already. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know . It’s just easier to fend off something told to you from the outside than it is something rising from the depths of yourself. I believe that some part of you had already arrived at the same conclusion I’m suggesting to you. It’s all there in that dream about traveling the same road as Baloo. I’m struck that your dream, which offers the key to our puzzle, returned to you just as we prepared to stop. And the photograph you gave me at the beginning was a hint to me about what direction I should take with you.”
    “You say I knew all this? You give me far, far too much credit.”
    “I don’t think so. I’m just siding with the part of you where wisdom dwells.”
    We both looked at the clock. We had run over several minutes. As Natasha rose and collected her things, she said, “May I get back to you by email or Skype if I have more questions?”
    “Of course. But remember: I’m aging. So don’t wait too long.”

~ 4 ~
    Thank You, Molly
    A few months ago I attended an outdoor funeral service for Molly, my long-term bookkeeper and Jane-of-all-trades who had worked for me for decades and had been both a godsend and a major thorn in my side. I’d first employed her in 1980 to collect my mail and pay my bills while I was on a year’s sabbatical, living and writing in Asia and Europe. When I returned, Molly soon grew dissatisfied with her bit role and little by little began to insinuate herself into all my domestic matters. Soon she was managing all our financial and household affairs, paying bills, taking care of correspondence, and filing papers, manuscripts, and contracts. She discharged my gardener and installed her own gardening team and, later, her own team of painters, and cleaners, and handymen—though, if the job were small, she insisted on doing it herself.
    There was no stopping her. One day I came home to find several trucks in our driveway and Molly at the base of a huge oak, calling to a man a hundred feet above, telling