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Book 35 Page 17


The 'name struck' psychologist


The psychologist sat poised,

looking like he was listening intently.

But his mind was closed, / his heart was shut, / his intuition turned off.

And because of this, his intellect worked overtime.


Whilst patterns of painful associations oozed forth from the suffering patient,

patterns -of an academic association - formed within the psychologist reasoning.

All things were named,

all gestures monitored and noted,

all emotions scrutinized / packed and sealed within mental psychological naming boxes.


And behind the psychologist stood an array of books.

Had he read them all!?

Had he comprehended the volumes of ideas on this most intimate of all human subjects,

'the study of human mind.’


And as the patient talked on and on, the psychologist wrote down notes.

Secret words they were, not ever meant for the patience ears.

Words it seems that only he and his learned colleagues would or could understand.

Names for this, / names for that, names for the various ways we humans have for dealing with life’s ups and downs.

Names that describe all manner of disorders.

Names, (enough names one would guess!) to put the whole world into.

And ordered neatly that world would be.


And with the efficiency of a computer,

the psychologist jotted them down, stringing them together in professional sentences.

He was indeed! a very fine speller.


And with this list at his disposal he intended to latter scrutinized the names and match them against an even longer list of names. That list of long -hard to say names – that stood within the psychological bibles behind him.


And at the end of the session he turned to me and uttered what seemed to be a simply and uncomplicated comment.

“Well then! we shall see you next time, you’re coming along just fine.”

And with these words I felt hope, if only for a very brief moment.

“Shall we make it ten o’clock!?.’ he said.

“Ten o’clock seems fine” I replied.

And I paid him his money.

© Written by Dominic John Gill 24 Jan 2002