6. me me me

6. I have continued to meet with the blind lady. When we walk in the street she holds my arm but she always appears to know exactly when we are at the end of a block. I asked her if she counted her paces. She said no, but she could hear whether there was a wall beside her or not. She also told me that she often sits out on her doorstep at night, savouring the smells. She says the city smells so different at night; she can pick up the scent of jasmine and the plants exhaling.

I was recently struck by the emotive power of smell myself. I was driving though the city and picked up the faint whiff of a bonfire. I was immediately catapulted into an English autumn. October is San Francisco’s summer; day after day has been hot and sunny. That faint whiff suddenly made me long for a season which my body tells me is long overdue. Cold nights and misty mornings – they are signs that it is ok to start winding down for the winter. Having said that, the last few days have been grey and I am already looking forward to sunny skies again.

I used to think there was a distinction between becoming a psychologist in order to help others, and becoming a psychologist in order to help oneself. Now I am no longer so sure. There are a number of students at my school who blur that distinction – the recovered alcoholic and the narcissist to name just two. I am beginning to realise that I am really no different - my primary concern is: what should one do with life? Underlying my desire to be a psychologist is the hope that, by helping other people answer that question, I will come closer to answering it for myself. And really the theoretical orientation that you choose says a lot more about you than about the orientation per se. A recovered alcoholic is likely to prefer Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) whereas I am attracted by existential psychotherapy, because that is the most relevant to me me me.