Couch

I notice that after I've written a post, or a series of posts, that required a large investment of time and emotion, I get blog burnout. It's not that I'm not interested in posting as much as I can't think of anything I want to write about.

So instead of just waiting around for several weeks, I thought I'd try doing something light.

The thing is, I hate my analytic couch. It's not the one I started with. That would be this one:

The Barcelona Daybed by Mies van der Rohe. Mine was a knockoff, but it basically looked the same. It's comfortable and it looks good, but a couple years ago, I had to make a last minute move to a new office because the people I was subletting from didn't realize they had a demolition clause in their lease. Long story.

I found a new office quickly. It's quite small, but otherwise, I love it. Great neighborhood, great building, great office setup, great office-mates. It would be perfect if it were a little larger.

But it isn't, and I had to get a new couch because the old one was too big for the space.

What I got was something I think of as a placeholder, even though I've had it for four years. It's a modern curved chaise with a chrome base in a whitish, tufted synthetic leather. I had very specific dimension requirements, and it was the best I could do at short notice, but I just don't like the thing.

Still, I haven't been able to find a suitable replacement, which hasn't stopped me from looking and virtual window-shopping. I've found a lot of beautiful couches, but thus far, nothing that will work in the space. Still, a girl can dream.

Here are some of my favorite couches, and I'll save the best for last:

The DWR Midcentury Modern Lounge

The Maxime Daybed from Jonathan Adler

The Danner Chaise, also from Jonathan Adler

This 1950's number by Paul McCobb

This very simple piece I found on Flickr

This Adrian Pearsall that sold on ebay

This one that sold on 1st Dibs

This beautiful William Haines Piece

This Ash Lounge Chair I found on Overstock. It's too red, but I still like it.

This lovely and conceptually simple piece.



And finally, the big reveal of my absolute favorite:

The stunning Ash Crescent Lounge from Vonnegut Kraft.

Blessings

City Bakery Melted Chocolate Cookie-Part Cookie, Part Chocolate Bar

I've gone back and forth on whether to write about the termination of my analysis, after the fact. I did write about it in Termination, before it happened. Somehow, this is harder.

So, my analysis ended. The last session was difficult and confusing, and probably will remain confusing for a long time.

First, there was the cookie saga. I decided to get my analyst a parting gift, and since it's impossible to encompass the entirety of an analysis in one object, I decided on cookies. I wanted a specific kind of cookie from a specific bakery (the melted chocolate cookie from City Bakery), but then I wasn't sure I'd be able to get that kind of cookie, so I baked my world-famous-awesome brownies (see This Post for the recipe), but then I felt uncomfortable giving her something I baked myself so I went back to the original cookie idea. And all of this got experienced, acted out, and narrated in the last few days of my analysis.

Another thing I did in the last few sessions was talk about all the things that made me uncomfortable about the process of terminating. Like which words my analyst would choose to end the last session, and how I felt about the intimacy of shaking her hand when I left.

Yet another thing I did, as a larger gesture, was make a blessing. Having been raised as an Orthodox Jew, many, if not all of my fundamental references are Judaic. And one thing observant Jews do is make blessings, which follow the specific formula of, "Blessed are you, lord our God, king of the universe, who is/does something." The italics are the part that varies.

There are blessings for all kinds of things, from rainbows to acknowledging scholarship to thunder to hearing bad news. There is a blessing for every type of food, categorized in very specific ways, of course, but pretty much everything is covered: bread, wine, potato chips, strawberries, and yes, cookies. And even though I'm not as observant as I was growing up, I still make blessings over food. It's a way of reminding myself that I am privileged enough to have food.

In the last few weeks of my analysis, I tried to think of a suitable blessing to make over termination. It was tough. One idea I had was the blessing parents make when a child becomes a Bar or Bat Mitzvah, which goes something like, "Blessed are you....who has removed this one's punishment from me." It sounds awful in translation, but simply means that the child has attained an age at which one begins to take responsibility for ones own actions. That has something of the right idea for a termination, but I told my analyst it seemed more suitable for her to say about me, than for me to say about her.

A friend suggested a blessing about healing a broken heart, which was pretty good, but not quite right.

In the end, I invented my own blessing. It's based on the prayer that's said at funerals and other types of memorial events, such as a Yahrzeit (anniversary of a death), which seemed suitable, since termination has an element of death to it. The end of the prayer translates to something like, "...May he rest in his resting place in peace..."

The Hebrew word that's translated as "resting place" is Mishkav, which literally means, lying-down place. Like a couch. So I used the same word but tweaked it a little to, "Blessed are you, lord our God, king of the universe, who raises (me) up from the couch in peace."

For me, it captures the idea that I leave not "cured", but in more peace than I was in when I started.

So the last session went something like this:

I came in and handed my analyst a bag with the gift. She laughed and asked if these were the brownies or the cookies. I told her they were the cookies, but then I felt bad. Maybe she really wanted to try my world-famous-awesome brownies, and I could have brought both those and the cookies. Oh well. There went that opportunity.

I felt like I should say something momentous that encapsulated the entirety of my analytic experience, but all I could think to say was that my analyst had been very kind. I felt like she should say something broad to summarize our work together, but she just said she'd enjoyed working with me. She also said the door is always open, should I wish to return. I felt like that was decent of her, but it made me wonder if she thought I might not be able to manage on my own.

In the middle of the session, I silently made my blessing, then told her I had made it.

All the old doubts were right there. Have I done enough? Can I manage on my own? Does she like me? Can I share the things I'm inclined to keep to myself? Is she disappointed that I didn't bring her brownies? Can I tolerate the pain of this separation?

It was like a miniature version of my whole analysis, reliving all these feelings that I had grappled with over the years, and made some kind of peace with, only to re-experience them right at the end.

There was a lot more laughing than I had expected, on both our parts. I felt like my preemptively bringing up my discomfort with her final wording, or with shaking her hand, had lessened the pain of those experiences, but also lessened their power. They became more awkward than sad, and I wondered if she was feeling sad too, but was uncomfortable showing it, or felt it was inappropriate to let me see her feeling that way, and maybe the laughter was more nervous than fun. I was disappointed that she wasn't obviously sad. I might have been more disappointed if she had been.

In the end, she said, "We do have to stop." And she laughed. I smiled. I got up, walked to the door, and we shook hands with a quiet, nervous laughter. And then I left.

It wasn't our best session. It wasn't our worst session, either. It was just one of many sessions. I'm grateful for my whole analysis, and I'm also glad, and sad it ended.

So, cookies for closure, discussion for honesty, and a blessing for peace.

Amen.

Logos

You may have noticed my logo on the blog or twitter:

I drew this on a doodling app about 6 years ago. It's basically a caricature of my analyst's couch. I also think it looks like a cartoon nose. I submitted it, with wording, as part of a logo competition for my analytic institute's centennial celebration. It looked like this:

It didn't win, but people thought it was funny. I thought it would make a good t-shirt.

The couch drawing is kind of a joke, but I'm proud of it, so I use it. Also, it's a way of keeping my analysis, and my analyst, with me, although she's since gotten a new couch that looks nothing like this one.

And it's sort of a brand. I'm not sure what it "says" about me. Maybe that psychoanalysis is important to me, but I try not to take it, or myself, too seriously.

I think branding matters. Images, tag lines, they do make an impression. And perhaps more significantly, for large companies or institutions, a lot of thought goes into deciding on a look. A lot of thinking about what values they want to convey. And they pay consultants large sums of money to help develop that look.

Nike. Apple. Coke. Disney. You immediately picture the swoosh, the apple, the red and white, the castle. And they conjure feelings, and ideas, and memories.

That's what they're supposed to do.

The APA has a new logo. I read about it in the June 5, 2015 edition of Psychiatric News. And here it is:

From the article:

"[The] new APA logo signifi(es) the leadership of the modern psychiatrist as a physician of mind, brain, and body...The new logo graphically updates the image of psychiatry to express its expertise in biopsychosocial and integrated care..."

Well, I see a snake around a stick. That's the staff of Asclepius, signifying medicine. Or a way to remove the dracunculus parasite.

I see a brain, signifying, a brain.

The word, "mind", is there, but no accompanying image. Not really an image of a body, either, except that the brain is part of the body. Or it's the body of the snake.

If you consider only the image, it could be a logo for the American Neurological Association. Or the new movie, "Snakes on a Brain."

It's kind of perfect, really. There's a mention of mind, but the focus is on brain and medicine.

The APA's Office of Corporate Communications and Public Affairs also produced a document, "APA Brand Guidelines." I couldn't find it online. According to the article, its purpose is, "To help the APA administration, district branches, and state associations adopt the new logo and the related material that support it (such as a color palette and type fonts)..."

The article goes on, "This guide contains everything you need to understand and use our brand system. By consistently adhering to our brand architecture, you will strengthen our collective presence and thus the cause." This reminds me, eerily, of another successful branding system.

And there's a video, "...that reflects the values of modern psychiatry and their translation into the new logo..." Notice the number of doctors in white coats. And scrubs. Outside of residency, when do you see a psychiatrist in scrubs? Wait. I wear scrubs when I'm doing a lot of cooking.

I don't really understand what it's saying. There are images of happy people, a teenager in a car with his father, learning to drive. Some kind of team being coached, a kid riding on his father's back. There are shots of brain imaging, a guy trying on a jacket, another guy from the military with a little kid. It could easily be a commercial for an insurance company. It's that slick:

Remember, "logos" means word. Or reason.