Wandering association.
May. 1st, 2012 04:15 pmEmotional experience is a very good item in the toolbox. I got into some subway trouble like I did around this time last year - and at the same station too, oddly enough - and this time I'm not distraught over it. It's happened before, so I know it isn't the end of the world or a really terrible thing, just my bad luck at getting caught. And with my new job, this isn't money coming out of savings so much as it is money I'm earning leaving me without a chance to spend it, like I have to wait a little while longer to earn positive income. So my therapist and I talked about that for a while. Also how I felt about the general circumstances of getting caught this time, and my feelings regarding the whole system of subway entrances. That somehow led us to talking about how New York's subways were designed in an era prior to disability access being a concern, which put us on a tangent of designing with access in mind and the importance of valuing one's knees.
We also spent time on how the synagogue where I work is something like the Y where I used to live in terms of some of the rooms: the office I do my work in is a windowless interior one, and I don't feel it's bad for me the way I knew the Y was, even though that building had its fare share of cold windowless rooms. The environment is close, but the circumstances are so different it's astronomical. It's something which keeps occurring to me as I'm there, a low-grade reminder that I can't shake - or feel bad about, really. It's too different to feel bad about being there, and I like the position, and the money, and what I'll be doing when the work gets more interesting. It's almost like I can use it as a way to shake out the worst of the emotional associations and just leave the neutral facts about that awful year without having to get zapped into depression just for reminiscing.
We talked about food, of course, and the flavor of bitterness. We talked about art, and that artists make what they can, not what they want, and how to draw from personal experiences. And we talked about how much we both hate warm humidity, and the intensity of New York. I honestly don't think I'll ever be a New Yorker - I'm getting better about being someone who lives here, but it's hard for me to think of myself as that.
We also spent time on how the synagogue where I work is something like the Y where I used to live in terms of some of the rooms: the office I do my work in is a windowless interior one, and I don't feel it's bad for me the way I knew the Y was, even though that building had its fare share of cold windowless rooms. The environment is close, but the circumstances are so different it's astronomical. It's something which keeps occurring to me as I'm there, a low-grade reminder that I can't shake - or feel bad about, really. It's too different to feel bad about being there, and I like the position, and the money, and what I'll be doing when the work gets more interesting. It's almost like I can use it as a way to shake out the worst of the emotional associations and just leave the neutral facts about that awful year without having to get zapped into depression just for reminiscing.
We talked about food, of course, and the flavor of bitterness. We talked about art, and that artists make what they can, not what they want, and how to draw from personal experiences. And we talked about how much we both hate warm humidity, and the intensity of New York. I honestly don't think I'll ever be a New Yorker - I'm getting better about being someone who lives here, but it's hard for me to think of myself as that.
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