In the quiet spaces between words,
you bring your stories like water-worn stones,
each one shaped by time and tide,
each one holding its own weight.
You come with shoulders bearing invisible archives,
footsteps that echo with unspoken tales,
and eyes that have witnessed their own histories
unfolding in mirrors and midnight thoughts.
Sometimes you apologize for crying,
as if tears weren't the original language
of being human, as if they hadn't carved
every river valley that leads to the sea.
You teach me about courage
not in grand gestures,
but in the trembling moment
when you choose to speak
what has lived so long in silence.
In your trust, I find my purpose renewed—
like roots knowing which way leads to water.
You remind me that healing isn't a straight line
but a spiral dance, sometimes returning
to old ground with new eyes.
To you who wonder if you're "doing therapy right,"
know that your vulnerability is a gift.
Each time you dare to unlock another door,
you help me understand the infinite ways
hearts can break, and mend, and grow stronger
at the broken places.
You are not just my clients.
You are my teachers in the art of being human.
Every story you share becomes a thread
in the grand tapestry of understanding
how we all carry our burdens,
how we all seek light in darkness,
how we all learn to trust the ground beneath our feet
one step at a time.
For this honor of witnessing your journey,
for every tear that falls in this space we share,
for every moment of breakthrough and revelation—
I thank you.
You remind me why I chose this path:
to sit with souls in their winter,
and watch as they discover
their own innate spring.
---
A letter of gratitude to all who trust me with their stories.
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