The Divided Self

Jim Larwill

Canadian Shield Chapbooks II.

 

 

The Divided Self

 

I guess i should give you a cheque.

 

I didn't forget my book this time:

Remember my first session?

Must have been ten years ago now,

seems like yesterday, only yesterday

i was searching through yellow pages

in a panic, because after discovering

life wasn't perfect i got

a little despondent.

 

I didn't want to face it alone.

 

So i phoned.

 

Made an appointment.

 

Your soft voice said to

“come right away”

there had been a cancellation.

 

Before i knew it,

i was sitting in your waiting-room,

clock radio next to me drowning out
Text Box: real and imagined secret rituals taking place behind the closed door of the inner sanctum. That door right there, i watched it from the other side until it opened expelling two smiling people, one left, and i got my turn; striped candy i had found in the dish next to the radio mixing with bitter juices of my mouth sweetening my breath as your hand, damp and warm, pulled me inwards. As you closed the door i heard the radio outside. Listen! If we are quiet, you can hear it now. See, there it is. Text Box: You had become very, very angry, but you didn't show it, only smiled, and said; “This is science, not the word of god, but of truth and salvation comes not from religion, but through the individual." Then i got a strange impulse to say something about modern capitalist society; but the time was up and you handed me a book about how there are Gods and Goddesses in every man and woman, which are mostly Greek, and i went home in less pain but still very, very confused. The next session you drew icons on Formica with a magic marker; Text Box: So i decided to speak softly, if at all as with Benedictine gestures you bid me to sit, your face, lit from above as if by some invisible floating halo. Seated i slowly began to whisper tears of pain of confusion of disappointment and rage, and you told me, in a matter of fact sort of way, that life isn't perfect. So i sat in silence and you began to teach me; tone of your voice Text Box: that of a higher knowledge; and it struck me, for the first time, i could be saved and you could do it, and i wanted to be saved, and i would be saved, so i put my psyche in your hands; You were my priest and Your words were the New Words of the New Truth. I couldn't contain myself. Remember? Remember how i jumped up; shouted.... Hallelujah, i am saved, there is still religion and you are its priest!" And then there was silence.