Despite years of personal work, I find my own agenda intrudes upon the goal of being fully mindful of the other in our sessions. There are stories unfolding here: memories of the past, considerations of present experiences, and yearning for future dreams. I have to resist the many thoughts and wishes I have to mold the stories into a more self-pleasing trajectory.
With the idea deeply implanted that living well with aphasia means discovery of a different orientation toward life, I grow impatient with the thoughts and actions of clients who find that road slow and hard to travel. The old definition I held onto for so many years: healer, fixer, maker of good endings – intrudes again into the open and accepting space I thought I had built into my office. It makes the room smaller. It makes my listening inaccurate. It makes me conflicted about when to remain quiet, and when to speak.
Inevitably, I find myself in an internal battle between what I think, and what I know.
To win, is to lose.