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Psychotherapy And The Status Quo

Early in therapy, a young woman I treated for depression described her ideal relationship with a man. “If I had my way,” she said, “I wouldn’t do a thing, except clean the house and talk on the phone. He would make all the decisions. He would pick where we go, what we do, who we see.”

Our Rag-Bone Hearts

Richard was introduced to mental institutions when insulin and shock treatments were in their experimental heyday. Inappropriate and excessive use of these treatments dealt him the blow ensuring that he would never again plead for his home or protest his lot.

Wild Heart

Walking alone through a wild land, our perceptions soon alter. We begin to experience the earth anew, know the very place we stand as the source and locus of our own rediscovered wild heart.

Letter To Maxim

The story of you is starting in me again. When I think of you, I see a road, a long gray stretch of lonely two-lane highway, a yellow stripe painted down its middle, a road in the middle of nowhere.

At Seven

My own experience was going from grace to more grace. I felt only the love. All the other — the sin, the penitence, the being out of grace — was something my mother tacked on. That could never take root in me. The experience I’d had was so much more real and marvelous than anything I was supposed to believe.

The Only Child

Alzheimer’s sneaks up on you: a forgotten appointment, a misplaced handbag, a spoken sentence that makes no sense, an inexplicable burst of anger, the nagging fear that there may not be enough money for you to live on. The early signs of Alzheimer’s seem to be just natural signs of aging.

A Brutal Sadness

Capital Punishment And The Politics Of Vengeance

Robert Alton Harris was gassed to death at sunrise on April 21, 1992, the first person to be executed by the state of California in twenty-five years. The execution ended fourteen years of legal wrangling over Harris’s fate, capped by four overnight stays of execution.

Natalie

There is no simple way, no easy or uncomplicated way, to look into the face of a filthy old woman on the street. We are frightened or saddened or repelled, feel guilty if not resentful, and then we avert our eyes.

Crip Zen

I’ve never met you, but from having read your crisp condemnation of me, I know you well. You are one of the legions who tell us what we should feel, instead of listening to what we do feel. We have met you thousands of times before, and you drive us up the wall.

On The Bus

He brushes the pastry crumbs off his shirt, speeds up as we approach a blind curve, and passes the car in front of us. He jokes about the frightened gringo behind him whose knuckles are whiter than his face.