The Corona Borealis.

He - "Your email. A bit of a shock"? Me - I suppose so..." He - "What happened, I mean how did you discover?" I had discovered that mandatory therapy doesn't end until we have done at least 50 hours of placement and we have a letter from our therapist passing us as stable (!) And then more forms to highlight our areas for development, and listing what CPD we are planning on taking. In other words, I need not have given him a date to end therapy. He - "So have you found anybody"? A new therapist...I say that I will leave that until I find a placement.  And he isn't saying anything. Then we are talking about transcripts. He is telling me to never write my own transcripts because I can use a transcription service!  I write my own transcripts..  I say, 'where does that leave the promise of confidentiality then! I mean talking about a client to a supervisor for the purposes of making sure that I'm doing the best I can for that person is on

Ah me, he asks, as always - if it is light enough?  Does he ask this of everyone, or me alone. He - "You sent me an email - whenever it was! - Between whenever last week about changing to a Friday. What was behind that"? I sometimes think it takes all the years I've been a trainee to get past questions like this without mischievously giving a spurious reply!  I have no hidden agenda. The truth is very boring and related to work schedules  He -  "OK, so it is sorted, one way or another, OK" There is a lot of emotion here! His emotion - in his voice. There is a something behind it? Did he hope that if I needed to change my day, he would be able to say that he's fully booked?  This is my sad and discouraging interpretation. Or perhaps he feels relief that I'm not going? I hold onto that last thought, 98% certain it isn't true. He - "So, where do you want to go today"? Me -  "Well, we could do part 2 because I'm not sure where the p

He remarks upon my layers - I've put on too many clothes! I say -  " Let there be light"! I'm so used to our opening conversation always being about the dimness of his room! He says -  "Are you not too warm" And I say -  "Well, I know that intellectually" And this remark causes great hilarity. He says -  "You don't know it physically? ( I laugh)  You do know it physically but it doesn't matter"! More laughter... He -  "And what sort of conversation are we going to get today"? Me -  "The airplane - I sort of needed to put it together. It sort of came to me in the early hours of the morning - in that time when things get put together - so I just thought I'd write. To put together the airplane" He -  "Put together the airplane"? Me -  "Yes, the airplane that keeps crashing. It's crashed how many times now? The first challenge was cannibalism (These are the times he has used an airplane as

I brought the fairy lights. Slender copper wire, and tiny, delicate white stars. He laughs, as I drape them gently over his bookcase... And then I'm giving him a card and his money in the card, and talking about how I feel I should offer him a white scarf in return for his teachings.. There is a poem, written in the card. It is the poem that I quote on the first page of my research project: Dust of Snow BY ROBERT FROST. The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued. He asks me why? -  Why offer a scarf? I say -  "Because that's how you do it, you offer a scarf to the teacher, and the money is in an envelope" I am  purposefully  missing out the obvious, that I'm treating him as a lama. He says -  "He mentions a crow in the first line. I forget the title of the book - I haven't read it, but I've heard two different programs reviewing the book and saying.

The door opens almost before I knock it! He -  "Hello, come in" He talks about heating, I mention the light. And the coffee is there, ready and waiting for me. I am assignment free for a day or two! The assignments make me feel as if I've been locked in a box, unable to think my own thoughts; that I don't know how I'd actually answer the assignments if I wasn't 'writing to pass'.  And to remedy this sense of being confined I talk about something I wrote for him last year. Me -  "So we must still have been in lockdown, April last year? I remember saying something about 'Seven Sermons to the Dead'? And I wrote you the first one - and I did write another one - but I didn't read that second one to you. None of this makes sense" He -  "Is that a prequal and you are now saying that you are going to read the second one"? Foolishly I'm attempting now to describe a semi-shamanistic practice of 'riding' experiences. H

I knock the door. Nothing happens! Feels like forever. I wait. He is making me a cup of coffee - before he opens the door.  He sees my surprise!  And says - "What, you are going to change your mind today? Well, I thought, you never say no so why did I need to wait! As I sit down I'm saying that I've had enough of writing my assignments, that I just want to be 'let off' He asks - "Is writing associated with coffee!" I reply - "No, just my sense of time has gone wrong, and I'm out of sync, things happening at a different speed..."  My voice trails away. He - "So have you finished your assignments"? Me - "Oh god, no. I wont be finished for ages yet. They are relentless, finish one, another begins" And then I'm explaining how our three years of assignments are squeezed into two years. I am exhausted, and on the verge of being insane. And I'm talking about Unit 13, counselling children and how much I dislike   Erik