Dear Patient, “Enjoy your rest.” That’s what I say to you after the last needle goes in, before stepping away to leave you for an hour. If I had more time I’d say this: I can tell that your life feels like a crush of tasks and obligations. You’re in pain. You’re carrying around a lot of extra stuff. And I want you to release all of it for a while. Let go of the dread. Forget that you have responsibilities. Forget your agenda. Forget even your goals and aspirations, your hopes and dreams.
Enjoy Your Rest
Enjoy Your Rest
Enjoy Your Rest
Dear Patient, “Enjoy your rest.” That’s what I say to you after the last needle goes in, before stepping away to leave you for an hour. If I had more time I’d say this: I can tell that your life feels like a crush of tasks and obligations. You’re in pain. You’re carrying around a lot of extra stuff. And I want you to release all of it for a while. Let go of the dread. Forget that you have responsibilities. Forget your agenda. Forget even your goals and aspirations, your hopes and dreams.