Water Lilies and Not Getting Stomped on

In my years as a counselor I never worked in an office. I was a Mobile Therapist which meant I saw my kids in their own environments--home and school mostly. In one way it was good because I got to meet the people who made up their worlds. School secretaries who worked in the office, teachers, family members. Numerous times over the years people would ask me: "I have to check three times to see if all the burners on my stove are turned off before I can leave my house. Do I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (in the trade called OCD)?" I'm not a psychiatrist and lots of times I barely knew these people, but I did a bit of reading on the subject and I always answered: "Can you get to work on time even though you checked the burners three times? If it makes you late for work on a continual basis you probably have OCD." My apologies to any professionals out there who know more about this than I do. When I would tell the people this they always looked so happy and relaxed that I figured I wasn't doing any harm.

We all have obsessions. I know I do; I've had them all my life and I don't always know where they come from but I don't care. I get tired of all this picking and poking and analyzing of our minds and souls.

We had no ponds or lakes where I grew up in Squirrel Hill in Pittsburgh so I don't know how this happened (nor do I care); however, I always loved water lilies and I thought about them a lot. There were these wonderful lily pads, round and green and mysterious, just floating on the surface of water and the flower that grew from them, the lotus, is a symbol that comes from Hinduism having the meaning of the unfolding of the universe. Now that we've moved, there are some ponds nearby, one just up the road, and there are water lilies in it. I think artists have to be obsessed by things in order to paint; I'm including a painting by Monet of water lilies.

Also, and this is from watching Around the Children's Corner--Mr. Rogers' first television show in the 1950s, proudly broadcast by our own WQED--and Hoot the Owl lived in a knot hole in a tree. I was profoundly mesmerized by the idea of this so I was always checking trees to find knot holes. Sadly I never did find one.

I teach writing in my own particular way, something that grew out of my style as a mother and counselor. What does this have to do with water lilies and knot holes in trees? I encourage my students to write about what thrills them and what they fantasize about. I don't do much criticism; I always say at the beginning of a class or workshop that "there are enough forces in the outside world just waiting to tear your writing apart. That's not what I do." One young man I had in a workshop said "You don't get stomped on here." So I make a little sign and put it out for everybody to see and it says that. "No stomping on other peoples' writing." From so little you get so much; people love this and become obviously relaxed because they know that at least for an hour they won't get "stomped on."