Do you ever have something happen to you and think this one isolated instance could serve as the theme for your existence?

Well, this happens to me often. I’ve been living in the bay for six months now and it seemed like a good time to find a new therapist in the area. I recently started my search—which if you’ve ever started from scratch to find a therapist you’re already aware it’s a draining process. And then one day it happened, I found The One (on paper, at least). I finally reached out to her and explained my reasons for wanting to set-up an initial appointment. After two days of radio silence, I received a message back from her saying:


“Hi Kendall. Unfortunately I’m completely booked. Would you like to be on my waiting list?”

Listen, of course I wasn’t going to get in and naturally the therapist I hoped for would have a waiting list—although, I didn’t actually take this into consideration when I opened my search. To me, it seemed almost comical that after months of feeling blocked (mentally) to open up a search for a new therapist, I was met with another obstacle and/or sign of defeat. Not to mention, this therapist might not have been The One anyway. I’ve had many “firsts” with therapists where I’m learning just as much about them as they are about me.

So there you have it. The encapsulating moment being: I seek help and help tells me to wait and see if anything opens… 🙂