when she told me what to do.

My therapist has a way of taking my LIFE! and making it look more like my life. Totally doable. I mean, like, you know–oh that. That’s just my life. It’s fine…or at least definitely on the way to fine.

Usually she asks me questions and lets me figure out the answers. Usually we both kind of dig together, but I have to be the one to actually unearth…whatever it is I am revealing. Ha. Don’t worry, it’s not like a lung or something. It’s like a thought or a feeling. And nope, it’s not a thought or even a feeling about a lung, either. Sorry. I guess I don’t give much attention to lungs. Except when I sing. Then I fill them up right. With air. And now you are like, GOOD TO KNOW, JESSICA. And I am like, YES, YOU’RE WELCOME. And now we will stop shouting at each other and I will continue to tell you about my therapist.

Because today she did something unprecedented. She told me what to do. She did. She waited for me to take a breath because I was just talking and talking and talking and telling her every little thing that I thought about what is currently happening in the story that is called my particular life, and then she said: let me tell you what to do.

And here’s the thing about this: I kind of love when people tell me what to do. Well, that’s not always true. Once someone told me not to tell people that I take yoga because of certain perceptions others may or may not have about it. My insides bristled and I felt like buying a t-shirt that said something about how I take yoga. And maybe a sweatshirt that says the same. In case it’s, you know, cold.

But sometimes I feel so confused and I get tired of people telling me that I need to do what I feel is right for me and I like it very much when they say something like: I went to school and learned a lot about human nature and emotions and here’s what you should do, Jessica. And, oh yeah, you’re going to be okay, Jessica.

I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE SAY THAT.

(whoa, tiger. calm down with the bolding, italicizing, and caps. leave some room so you have somewhere to go when you’re really excited)

So yes, she gave me a plan and I think I like it. Or maybe the word like is too hasty; what I think, is that I agree with it.

And something else: I went out on a moonlit walk tonight. I saw some bright shiny things in the distance and I wasn’t really even scared. I mean, I stopped walking for a second, pondered if perhaps what I was seeing were eyes that belonged to a creature, and then decided that what will be will be and continued my walk.

And I am glad I did. I listened to the creek for a long time and something like hope sprang up inside me so strongly. It was like finally remembering the melody to a song that you once knew backwards and forwards, but hadn’t thought about for years now. I was standing on a bridge and started tap dancing. I tap dance sometimes, which is hilarious because I am not a tap dancer. Certainly not a good one. Actually I was at dunkin donuts with some friends late at night a bit ago and was tapping in the store. But I kept doing paddles, which move you backwards, and kept running into various things that were behind me (cause I was going backwards, see?). Later, when we met a guy who was camped out in the place and he asked me what I did, I told him I dance. “Yeah, I saw you dancing,” he said. “So you saw me run into things?” I asked. “Sure did,” he replied. Great, I thought.

Oh. But I was on this bridge and I felt hopeful. Eureka! What is this?! If it is the kind of thing that makes me dance on bridges and listen to creeks and believe in better things and tell myself that life is really quite beautiful and actually believe it when I tell this to myself, then I will take it.

And so I did. I took it home, and it’s still here, somewhere, I know it.