Sewer comes home
where we’ll shower her with love

Love is always the answer. Bob* teaches me that lesson in a thousand different ways. He never gets tired of me. So why do I think my therapist might tire of me?
Sewer** was rough on her last week, questioned her sincerity and depth. But my therapist passed the test. She admitted she had never lived in a sewer — but that was not really the issue, was it? The issue was only whether she could love someone who had.
The body is my sewer. I did not want to live in it. The mind is my sewer, it holds all sorts of unclean thoughts. What is an unclean thought, you might ask? Only, says Bob, a thought without love.
A thought without love, says Bob, is asking for attention. A thought without love never is asking for punishment or censure or banishing. It wants to be heard as what it is, a plea, a prayer, a request. My therapist did not treat Sewer as an attacker, or see her as a threat. My therapist treated her the way she treats me, as a client, come knocking at her door for help.
So today I decided to include Sewer in myself. I don’t need to see her as separate any more, untouchable. I don’t know how this will play out. That is a subject for future blogs.
*Bob - my invisible friend and inner guide
**Sewer - my abused self-image
