So as I washed this laundry - by hand- I felt a little more free with every clean item. And with that freedom came thoughts and inspiration. I thought about how physical dirty laundry is a metaphor for mental and emotional dirty laundry. The thoughts, beliefs, emotions, regrets, resentment, fears that we carry around in the backs of our minds at all times, not dealing with them, not cleaning them out.
I’ve been feeling some things the last day or so. By things, I mean emotions. More uncomfortable emotions than I’d care to feel. There’s some good ol’ sadness, anger, and resentment mixed in with a bit of fear and regret. I’d rather not feel this way so there’s been some resistance to feeling them. Which is never helpful. But alas I’m as human as the next person, no matter how much I try to fight it.
The word “therapy” can bring up all kinds of negative connotations. It’s notorious for conjuring horror movie-like images of people lying on couches talking about all the ways in which their family effed them up while self-absorbed therapists nod silently, and after years of this eventually tell what’s wrong with them. While these stereotypes are of course rooted in some tiny truth, the majority of therapists do not operate in this manner and most people could actually benefit from a bit of good, solid therapy at some point in their lives.