Waiting....

The streets are eerily bare - not a car in sight. The few that creep up on me seem to disappear just as quickly. We are all practicing a two-car physical distancing.
It's changed now, since only "essential services" are on the road. It looks as if we don’t require that much these days.
Apparently, I am still essential – people still need words. Actually, they need my listening skills as they find their own words.
In all the years that I’ve worked with trauma, I’ve always participated in an internal debate. Which comes first – terror or the need for words?
I assess. I have no fear. The bare streets don’t bother me. Actually, it’s quite pleasant not to have to worry about rush hour, the clogging of cars, or the road rage.
But the minute that thought crosses my mind, I know these bare roads won’t last. There is the second stage.
Second stage!
That’s what I’m calling it. In my mind’s eye. And the minute I have named it - I see it.
The fear grows as my imagination races, and I see the streets transformed into the second stage.
Words come first; I decide as I chide myself slightly for giving it a name. The Second Stage!
I continue to play with it. The term "second stage" arouses anticipatory fear – not real at the moment. Yet - it is real. Fear grips my heart.
I need to settle the fear – so I give it different words.
The second stage might not come. It isn’t here now so why worry about it. I’ve been to countries that have survived the second stage. Maybe – just maybe – we’ll do the second stage better than ever before. Then of course – the real clincher. The second stage will be good for us. Ugh!
By the time I reach my office and sterilize everything in sight, I’ve shed my fears and I’m ready to don someone else’s fears.
Other people’s fears are so much easier to deal with …..
I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger, except in its absolute effect - in terror. Edgar Allan Poe
It's changed now, since only "essential services" are on the road. It looks as if we don’t require that much these days.
Apparently, I am still essential – people still need words. Actually, they need my listening skills as they find their own words.
In all the years that I’ve worked with trauma, I’ve always participated in an internal debate. Which comes first – terror or the need for words?
I assess. I have no fear. The bare streets don’t bother me. Actually, it’s quite pleasant not to have to worry about rush hour, the clogging of cars, or the road rage.
But the minute that thought crosses my mind, I know these bare roads won’t last. There is the second stage.
Second stage!
That’s what I’m calling it. In my mind’s eye. And the minute I have named it - I see it.
The fear grows as my imagination races, and I see the streets transformed into the second stage.
Words come first; I decide as I chide myself slightly for giving it a name. The Second Stage!
I continue to play with it. The term "second stage" arouses anticipatory fear – not real at the moment. Yet - it is real. Fear grips my heart.
I need to settle the fear – so I give it different words.
The second stage might not come. It isn’t here now so why worry about it. I’ve been to countries that have survived the second stage. Maybe – just maybe – we’ll do the second stage better than ever before. Then of course – the real clincher. The second stage will be good for us. Ugh!
By the time I reach my office and sterilize everything in sight, I’ve shed my fears and I’m ready to don someone else’s fears.
Other people’s fears are so much easier to deal with …..
I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger, except in its absolute effect - in terror. Edgar Allan Poe