Yesterday, I told my therapist of four months that I am a misogynist. She seemed a bit shocked and told me that I certainly do a great job of hiding the fact. Then the oddest thing happened. I became an observer of my self who was sitting on a chair talking. I was completely non-judgmental of this person. It felt comfortable, easy, natural being in this place. I described the relationship between my wife and me, and how it had managed to work for over thirty years. It was all so matter of fact; clear and undisturbed, yet a bit sad. Before leaving, I returned to my body which now felt broken or at least "split" into two beings. When I tried to talk, the words were hollow. It always takes some getting used to after experiencing a different reality. At least this time I wasn't frightened; just more aware.
1 Heart
Sounds like a good session!