Peace you say?

Peace you say. The word appears on children's menu, encouraging "give peas a chance"; the word Mercutio hears from a lover boy; the word is like polar bear, I know what it is, I haven't touched it myself.

As if I have been hibernating for more than 500 days. I don't remember the last time I woke up before noon. I forgot what morning looks like; it is part of being a student in summer break; someone told me nicely. A dear friend of mine told me to shut off the news during healing. I tried to do it in the past couple of days; it doesn't work very well. I love the feeling of having my espresso in my sleep wear while reading the news. This is more than a habitual thing, it is that over heated coffee spoon that you have to hold to stir your java; it might irritate the finger tip, but without that extra heat, stirring coffee would have become something else. If I can't take the news right now, would it be easier to me after months' blank and then take it all in one go? Sooner or later we all have to return to the reality and face human cruelty.

Red post-it notes are on the wall, to remind me of joy. Wouldn't it be nice if I could think about more of the good sides of things constantly, I suppose it takes more practice than I thought. It is very true that most of the news broadcast are bad; we can always blame the media for abusing people's fear, tickle their bank accounts for more shocking the news is, the more it sells. Why are we more alert and in a way attractive to destructive news, I don't know; but the fact of watching the reports on the distinctions of animals and plants, oil spills, senseless violence and tolerance shows that either homo homo sapiens have adapted to the new environment with a stronger stomach for gruesomeness or we have become numb; but could one just throw out the laptop and TV and pretend everything is fine? Is it too late, for we always knew?

I guess there is no all-purpose formula to heal from any kind of psychological disturbance, but I am paying my gratitude every day and waiting for the idea of balancing my world shall come soon.

Peace you say?

Butter

Dr. Soliot sits at his desk filling out applications and reports for a new psychology magazine. It has been a while since his name put in print and such nostalgia is more than an itch on the skin. Today he gets a new pair. New is good, the first consultation is always full of juicy conflicts, tears and fists, sexual cheats, financial disputes, and whatever a reality show could provide. This is live reality show with potential of seeing their stories and my name in print.

The secretary says that the patients have arrived. Dr. Soliot opens the door and a very young couple step in.

DR.SOLIOT: Good morning. Please take your seats.

The man and the woman sit down next to another on the couch across the desk.

DR.SOLIOT: So, what bring you to the couple mediation?

The man take out a voucher and say: “We got this voucher a few months ago as a present from our insurance company for our fifth anniversary. It is almost expired, so we think that we might as well use it...”

WOMAN: AND we heard that the doctors provide good service here.

There is a mirror on the side wall on Dr. Soliot’s left side. Sometimes he likes to ask his patients to talk to the mirror and say that they are loved. Today, as he turns aside and sees himself, like a double cheese burger on a fast-food ad; with a discount. Is it what I am? A piece of discount, oh, free voucher? Of course not, he looks back on the couple, every patient has potential.

“So tell me about your relationship. Do you argue?”

“Of course we do. Sometimes.”

“About what?”

“Butter. Well, sometimes we can’t agree on bathroom towels but mostly about butter.” the man says and the woman nods.

“Would you like to explain it.”

MAN: I like my butter square. Like them supposed to be. I put them in a butter container and I take the portions out with a butter knife. But whenever she comes along, takes tortilla chips or whatever she has in hand, and she dips into the butter and of course afterwards, the butter gets all scratched up! We even tried to get two separate butter boxes, but she always gets into it!

WOMAN: I use knife too! Sometimes. But what is the big deal? It is butter, you can always get new ones, perfectly rectangle ones. Wait, what’s wrong with scratchy ones? It is not like it turn into something else after being scratched. And you! You slice your sausages into equally numbered pieces with bread! It is food, not math...

DR.SOLIOT: Excuse me... I don’t know if I understand it all correctly. You are fighting about butter (the couple nod), and why does it bother you when your husband cuts his sausages to fit in his bread?

WOMAN: It doesn’t really ... oh yeah, but there was one time that we got into a fight and he ended up having to make vanilla pudding for me at 3am!

DR.SOLIOT: A fight! Do tell!

WOMAN: Well, we were downstairs taking pictures of squirrels in the garden and as I just finished adjusting the focus, he tickled me so the photo was blur. As a punishment, he had to make vanilla pudding...

MAN: Oh right ... that was a pretty red squirrel with white tail.

DR.SOLIOT: Were you angry at your husband for such mischief then?

WOMAN: Yep. But the vanilla pudding was really good though.

DR.SOLIOT: Why at 3am?

WOMAN: It was weekend, we stayed up late.

Dr. Soliot’s looks at the watch and opens the draw. “Have you heard of Toloft? This is a new kind of medication that would take edge off people and balance all the chemicals in the brain. It can be partially paid by your insurance company, but the trail does is free.” He laughs with a frown: “hahaha, just like street drug dealers, the first one is always free. hahaha”

No one else laughs. The man says: “That is funny. I have never heard of it.”

WOMAN: Do you mean the medication or the saying about street drug dealers?

MAN: The medication. Maybe it will really take some edges off you.

WOMAN: You are the edgy one, with your square butter and all.

Then she turns to the doctor: “The goal is to re-shape. We saw this rectangle thing at the super market last week that would shape play dough in different ways.”

MAN: Right... you can even shape them round.

Dr. Soliot feels a rush of blood to the head. It is 10 minutes before the session ends but he stands up and shake their hands. “If you think it is necessary, the appointments for the follow-up sessions can be made through my secretary.”

The couple stand up and the man is looking for his weekly calendar. “Have you seen it?”

WOMAN: Ooops. I left on the counter.

MAN: Arrrrggghhh.

WOMAN: Hey you wanted me to write down this address.

MAN: I was cooking!

WOMAN to DR.SOLIOT: We had spinach lasagna last night, it was heavenly...

MAN: Of course it was good. I made it. We should really do it again, this time with Bechamel sauce.

WOMAN: Oh that is a good idea. Can we go grocery shopping right now, speaking of food...

DR.SOLIOT: I DO have other patients to see. The secretary will help you with appointments and all. Have a good day.

Dr. Soliot closes the door and takes out his to-do list:

• Call the phone provider and ask how long would it take to change a number
• Ask Mr. Wose if the option of sharing an office still available
• Send resume and applications to St. Christopher. Hopsital, maybe they need someone in the psychology department
• Google my Psych. Dr. High’s new office number