"I can't stand my therapist," Rachel confided to her boss over lunch. Rachel was young, fit, driven. Her boss, Hilary, was ten years older and a little bit of a hippie and a free spirit. She often acted as a confidante for Rachel.
Rachel continued, pursing her full lips and squinting her large blue eyes. "I mean, she's constantly talking about my parents, my exes. How can I move forward with my life if all we talk about is the past?" she exclaimed. "I just want to be able to deal with the present or even plan for my future." She swept her straight brown hair back. She was 24, ambitious, and a hard worker. She appreciated having the mentorship of other women at the office.
Hilary nodded sympathetically. "I know how you feel. Have you thought about maybe trying some different types? Maybe a life coach or something. You know," she looked thoughtful, "I used to belong to this energy healer's circle for a while. You might be into some of that."
Rachel looked uncertain. "What do you mean? Like chakras and stuff?"
Hilary bit her lip. "Well...it's like about working with your energy, and using visualizations and things. I guess it's kind of New Age. Kind of mystical, really. But this one woman in our group was doing a lot of female mentorship, and she seemed to have a following. Like when I last saw her, she was starting her own clinic and everything!"
"Wow!" Rachel said. "That sounds pretty legit. Where's her office?"
Hilary began to pack up her salad. "That's the thing...it's right downtown! I can't imagine how much her rent is. I figure she must have a rich husband or a trust fund to have helped start her off, because most of us could barely book a regular Reiki client much less support an entire office. She's kind of a character."
They were now walking back to the fundraising office. Rachel stopped by a mirrored office window to adjust her tailored suit, her neatly trimmed hair falling straight just below her shoulders. Hilary smiled to herself. The younger woman was very officious, eager to follow rules and fulfill expectations. A textbook Type A personality.
"I need the Calder budget to get adjusted so we can submit the grant agreement," Rachel groaned dramatically as she returned to her desk. Hilary leaned against her door. "I know. We need a lot of things adjusted! Well, look--" she hesitated for a moment. "If you want the name of that woman I was telling you about, it might be worth trying. Might help you tap into your woman power!"
Rachel grinned. "Yes! I need that. Text it to me, I think I wanna give her a shot."
***
Rachel approached the understated building, tucked between a small grocery store and a shoe shop. The facade looked like a medical clinic of some kind, but there was no specialty or practice listed.
"Dr. V. Clara, Integrated Therapy and Healing" said a small brass plaque by the front door. Rachel rang the buzzer. It had taken her months to get an appointment. She was oddly excited to learn what this was going to be all about. She had had it up to here with her current therapist harping on childhood trauma -- she was ready for something different, whether it was chakras, third eyes or past life regressions!
The lobby of the office was a soothing pink, a soft pastel color. It reminded Rachel of a warm hug - the ultimate girly pink, she thought. Like the pink you might have on a pink bow for the birth of a baby girl. The thought struck her as odd.
A small sign instructed her to take a seat until the doctor could see her, so she made herself comfortable, smoothing her slacks. Her tailored work clothes fit perfectly on her thin, sculpted body. She was headed to the gym after this to run and do squats. If she had a philosophy of life, it might have been "work hard, play hard" and yet she knew there was something missing. When would she be able to simply relax and enjoy?
"Hi Rachel, I'm Dr. Clara," a soft voice intruded on her thoughts. She looked up into the eyes of a sultry South American woman, a real bombshell, elegantly attired in a cream and pink silk dress with her long curly hair gracefully arranged over her shoulder. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. Please have a seat."
She gestured to an oval purple armchair, which Rachel sank into. The colors of the office relaxed her. Gentle pink and purple. Bouquets of flowers decorated each room. There was soft music playing, too soft to make out words but Rachel could hear light, Enya-like vocalisations. Rachel had the impulse to lie back, close her eyes, relax for a while. She struggled to address Dr. Clara's questions.
"I'm here because I'm not making much progress with my current therapist. Honestly, I've been seeing her for years and it feels like all we talk about is the past. We're never working on who I am right now, or who I want to become. I feel stuck," Rachel admitted.
"And who do you want to become?" asked Dr. Clara. She had sat down at a small table right across from Rachel, and she had her notebook and some files open. A small crystal dangled from her right hand, and she seemed to be considering it as it spun idly.
"I mean- I'm not sure. I'm ambitious, but I grew up rough. I learned how hard I have to work to deserve anything, and I feel like all I do is work. I feel like a machine, or even- I don't know. I just don't even enjoy my life very much." Rachel felt a little emotional, making this admission to a stranger. It was like admitting she was a failure.
"Don't worry, little one," Dr. Clara said soothingly. "We are here to find your passion. I am here to help you receive what you deserve and become the powerful person you crave to be. Let us begin. Please join me in taking a deep...calm...breath."
The session began with breathing exercises, and a visualization of Rachel's future. A guided meditation followed. Rachel wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep, she felt so calm and centered. Suddenly it was the end of the hour.
"Now, when I see you next week, I want you to have done these steps for me," Dr. Clara was saying authoritatively. Rachel snapped to attention. "Wait I -- I didn't catch all that," she began, but Dr. Clara was rushing her towards the door. "See you this time next week, my darling!" And the door closed solidly behind her.
Rachel was on the street, and not even sure what she was supposed to do for her new therapist. "Dammit," she said. She looked at her watch. She knew there was something -- something - she had been planning to do after the session. She couldn't remember what it was. Her head felt fuzzy. She felt an abrupt craving for ice cream.
She started walking toward the park, and stopped at a cute little ice cream parlor on a side street. Feeling decadent and a little childish, she ordered a strawberry sundae with sprinkles and fudge.
As she sat down with her treat, she noticed a mother with two children. The mother was modestly breastfeeding a baby, and the little girl- perhaps three years old- was approaching Rachel with curiosity and friendliness.
"What's your name?" Rachel cooed. The little girl smiled shyly. She held up her ice cream cone and danced around. Her blonde curls were tied up in cute little bows. She was so adorable, she was good enough to eat! Rachel thought. She had never been one for children, but this little one stole her heart.
"That's Melanie," the mother said. She was smiling, her long chestnut hair waving around her face glamorously. She seemed a vision of peaceful contentedness as she breastfed her baby, and then Rachel noticed that the woman's waistline was swollen with a third child on the way. The woman followed Rachel's eye and patted her belly contentedly, even rubbing it a little. "I like the looks of what you're eating there. In my condition, I'm a regular here."
Rachel smiled. She liked the woman's candor. "I just had a craving myself. Hey, do you ever need a babysitter?"
(I don't have time to babysit, she said to herself. What am I thinking?!).
