Therapy through the Ether
I have spent all day alone in my office
The ping of the computer announces that the connection is made
All check out
The image appears, sometimes clear and sharp
Carried by whatever gods rule this realm,
The temenos is activated.
In ancient times,
The supplicant would prepare in a stone room by a water source
Filled with serpents
First, they wash and fast
Then sleep and wait for the dream to speak with the voice of the gods
The healer or priest, prophetess or seer
Cleansed and clothed in purity of mind, spirit and body
They wait for the god to reveal the dis-ease and the method for healing
It is no less simple today.
Gone are the serpents on the stone floor
Gone as well, the time it took to hear the voice of the gods.
Sometimes days would pass before they spoke.
But the slow and careful listening to the other,
The patient waiting for revelation
The ongoing supervision
The awe and trembling before the voice of the gods
Is still here
Captured by the image on a screen
A relationship as old as humanity itself
Cave space or stone room
Consultation office or internet
We long to be seen, heard, and understood,
We wait to be oriented to our own particular destiny.
There have been times when the gods are antsy
The internet connection doesn’t hold
Then we move to another format and then another
Until, sometimes, from continent to continent
What is left is the phone -
Landline or cell-
The last resort in an age of digital technology
Whichever side of the screen we are on,
Whatever gods call us to confess our dreams and suffering,
We are engaged in an ancient ritual
Wearing modern dress.
The ping alerts me
The gods have spoken
I hear and obey.
March 24, 2015