Meni KoutsosimouAuthor: Meni Koutosimou
Psychologist – Phil to Post Graduate Mental Health Advisor
Post Graduate Degree on Psychiatry/Child Psychiatry
Doctor of Medicine at University of Ioannina
Post-Doc at University of Ioannina on Quality of Services
Look at the hands, a move says much, more than what you’re used to read. Every day, so many things pass through your view, your comings and goings, your routes. This life is suspicious; making its way, it’s learned not to believe in its own eyes and in the eyes of others.
Have you ever bothered to look carefully, to filter everything you see? The truth is in the hands, in the movement. Everything is there, in front of you, if only you were ready to grasp the messages. As for me, life has taught me that there are many different kinds of hands… Gentle hands and shy, that are given to you with inhibition, greedy hands that drain you, duplicitous hands that will intentionally confuse you, inexperienced or well-worked ones, hands that won’t unlock nor open because their soul is sealed and their hug is thrifty.
And if the everyday life’s mess troubles you and if you’ve learned to look around selectively, what do you have to say about the life you have been missing out on? When everything around you is a sort of training, where will you draw the power from to get out of the box they’ve put you in? When right and wrong are entangled with such mastery, it takes strength to realize that inside a mistake you can find so many right things in this world, and I will immediately explain what I mean.
How bold can a life be when talking? Stories come out of its mouth, without any punctuation; the comma, the pause both seem unnecessary, the dot doesn’t fit it well. The scripts are countless and read so many times before. The actors: simple people who give a performance every day for the sake of survival. If the script isn’t pleasant to you, you change rooms. You will find something that makes you have a good time and hopefully, you will come back again.
But there are also those who aren’t used to look for the easy part, they are discreet and stand out, they don’t come against you, they’re not a threat to your existence, they just happened to be your co-passengers on the same coach, in the same room, but they don’t wear you out, nor do they disturb you. Their look screams but it doesn’t bother you, even if you hear it. Those looks have their weaknesses, you can’t even imagine what they’ve been through. But there they are, by your side, inside of you, eager for you to examine them. They feel the shame penetrating them…They hide the pain so skillfully… They don’t have another story to tell, you already know it…They’re true to their silence, their denial. The only thing that reveals them is movement.
No matter how hard you try every day to pass the messages you want on to the others, to limit the interaction and to get comfortable within your view, you will still put yourself out in the face of those who have learned to see through you. You think falls terrify you… but what about compromises?
References
Winnicot D.W. (2005). Φόβος Κατάρρευσης. Εκδ. Άγρα.