Point of View

You won’t hit the perfect shot standing at back of tennis court

Posted

On very rare occasions as Dr. Rubin, my long-time psychiatrist, was closing the office door at the beginning of a session, he would let something slip out that might not have normally come out in the course of our conversation.

One morning, as I was assuming my seat in the black swivel arm chair in the corner, and the door was swinging shut, he muttered something along the lines of, “Sometimes I would just like to shake you.” But maybe a little stronger.

Actually, I wasn’t offended. It was not said with any degree of malice. He was making a point that this morning I could well take to heart. I simply take things too seriously. I’m too stiff and rigid and literal. I look at the flat surfaces and miss all the curves underneath. I could well learn to loosen up.

This one is all on me. It is a change that comes from way down inside. Only I can make it, but I think it can affect everything. That is the way it feels right now, anyway. The tree that reaches all the way up to my sixth-floor window is beginning to leaf. I suppose it is, more or less, on time, even if the temperatures have been a little erratic. 

The sun is shining down through a hazy blue sky, and is not too much in my eyes. A day lies ahead for me to try and get this one right.

Dr. Rubin had another story he repeated more than once that was more consistent with his practice. It went something like this:

“If you stand at the back of the tennis court and just try and hit the perfect shot, you never will. If, on the other hand, you’re willing to run around and just play, over time, you might get pretty good.”

It was a good story, worth hearing more than once, and worth remembering all these years later. There is no way to get anything exactly right.

In fact, I’m kind of hopeful that this very spirit might hold at least part of the answer to my ongoing quest to dispense with the angry, degrading voice that still has a way of popping up from time to time. 

Don’t be so fine. Don’t be so particular. Just treat it like a lot of noise and get on with your day.

What kind of power can those ugly words really have anyway? I am not going to jump out the window. I’m just not going to do it. It doesn’t interest me in any way.

That is the voice at its worst. My current psychotherapist agrees. Just treat it as a lot of extraneous noise. Ignore it. Go about your business.

In a word, give it no power. All of this will, I believe, be that much easier to do if I cut the gravitas out of other aspects of my day as well. 

The author is a Riverdale resident whose most recent book, “Full of Wonderment: A Novel,” is available on Amazon.

John Greenfield,

Comments