In one of his sessions, he was sitting across the room from the shrink, articulating how much trouble he was having with his patients’ anger, their problems, their complaints. The psychiatrist didn’t say a thing, but he took a fancy fountain pen out of his shirt pocket and held it out in front of him at arm’s length, as though presenting it. He just held it there. My friend, who was about twenty-six or twenty-seven at the time, got up from his chair, walked over to the psychiatrist, and took the pen. The shrink said, “Did you want that pen?” My friend said, “No, not really.” “Then why did you
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The most brilliant way to demonstrate how ultimately we (not only medical professionals) are not responsible for carrying other people's troubles. Doesn't mean we can't help in other, more constructive ways.
