Writers often say that you don’t know what you’re thinking until you write it out. The premise of therapy is you don’t really know how you’re feeling until you talk it out. Is therapy any less sacred than time spent in a confession booth? You wonder if what you really need is a guru… If there’s some ancient narrative tradition that is closer to Source, or Truth, or just simply more palatable. For some reason, platitudes of wisdom traditions sound so much better coming from the Dalai Lama than from the typical licensed therapist. The weird thing about therapy is you don’t know it’s working until way long after it has started working. Each day you slog to the room decorated in Pier One camp feels contrived, but you know you need help. So you surrender to this system you can’t quite articulate. It’s a faith in the cultural wisdom that has led us to this moment in time, where you are sitting on a taffeta couch staring at the wall adorned with a trite, but warm and hopeful quote. It feels like you’re signing up for AA –this surrendering to a “Higher Power”… an admission that you can’t do this alone.