“Let me ask you something,” he said. “This issue of feeling angry and unappreciated, can you trace that back to your father? Or the demands of your job? Or a need for more vacation time?”
“I’ll have to think about that,” she said. “Because maybe. But maybe not.”
“Do think about it and let’s pursue it. In fact, there’s a wonderful book about the psychology of happiness that asks the question about what works for one person and not for another. For example, there must be busy internists who feel better when they’re working than when they’re not. There are lots of studies on how retirement and too much leisure is unhealthy just as there are studies of how overwork is unhealthy.”
“Of course,” she said. “That could depend on what drives you.”
“Or it could depend on where the real source of happiness is. Is it external or is it internal? Is it something you can locate and build on or is it something that is hidden until you take the right steps to find it? Do you get it from work or the absence of work?”
“Do you get it from successful relationships or from learning to live free of them, avoiding toxic relationships?” she countered.
“I would be very interested in what you think has improved your peace of mind so much in the short time we’ve been working together,” he said.
“It’s probably very simple,” she said. “My mom is going to be just fine after a real serious medical scare. And in taking care of her, I got some much needed time off from work.”
“Perhaps. But can I ask a favor? Could you please do a little journaling between now and next week? Propose the question, the simple question, of When do I feel best? And write about it.”
“Sure. Easy-peasy.”
He laughed. “You’re so accommodating. That request is usually answered with a very loud groan from clients. Oh, no, not journaling! But just a page or two a day, asking and answering the question. Of course, you can tear it up and throw it away afterward if you want to.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Why, thank you.”
“Would you like to come to the office next week or meet on video chat?”
“I think I’ll come into the city. It’s a nice change and my mom is getting so independent she can use the time alone.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Headed back to Mill Valley?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “My mom is working with her clerk at the house so I’m going to grab a bite to eat. Maybe I’ll take something home for them.”
“Hey, by the way,” he said. “Did you by any chance get a cat?”
She laughed at that, her face brightening. “I did not, but I went to a pet store and the woman there was so mean! She said if there was no way I could take care of a cat, there was no reason to get one. I might have gone on and on about long hours and living alone and all that. But I did see this adorable puppy. She was black and white and brown with a squashed little face and the biggest eyes. I almost took her home just from the cuteness, but I didn’t want the poor animal to suffer. She was some kind of spaniel. Adorable.”
“It’s possible you’ve been bitten by the bug,” he said.
“And what bug is that?” she asked.
“Animals are good for the heart. And blood pressure. They make us feel loved, but more, they make sure we know we’re needed. They really don’t do well without our care. And we don’t do that well without their unconditional love.”
“You have seventeen cats, don’t you?” she asked with a laugh.
“I have only the one and he’s mean as a snake, but I know deep inside he loves me. I pet him when he demands it and I leave him completely alone when he hisses at me. It’s a love match made in heaven.”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Gretchen.”
“But you said ‘he.’”
“I named him before we could determine the gender. Believe me, he doesn’t know the difference.”
Jessie so enjoyed being out of the house and back in the city she found herself walking around the shops along the pier, winding her way through the tourists. She decided to stop in at her favorite Mexican restaurant for a little lunch, and on her way there, she passed a free clinic. There was a line out the door, a few men, twice as many women and children. How had she never noticed this before? It was a storefront operation and the waiting room was full.
She squeezed in ahead of people and they let her pass, probably only because she managed to look as if she belonged. She couldn’t get near the counter, but standing a bit off to the side, she watched as a receptionist chatted with a Latina woman who was obviously very pregnant. In crisp, beautiful Spanish the receptionist said to the woman, “How many months and how much bleeding.”