Between two turquoise chairs- countless stories

                        

Each sentence is a hint to the role I play between these chairs. It may be easier to guess if you know me- but maybe not. 

                                           

Mine is cushioned, comfy, and turquoise. Sitting in it almost feels like entering a mother‘s womb- safe enough to help you reveal what’s usually hidden. 

I’m usually not sitting in it. 

I am in the opposite one. This one is also turquoise, but a different kind. It has wooden handles, is smaller and somehow keeps me at the edge. Even in its comfort, it seems designed to keep me alert and in tune with what people in the womb chair reveal.

Sometimes I wonder if we chose the two different ones, with their specific characteristics, to play their separate roles in our lives. All I know is that it was their souls that called to our deepest selves. And so we ordered them and waited for weeks to receive them into our space. 

It would be another few years before they finally started fulfilling their purpose in our lives.

The chairs almost seem like characters in the stories of the people who reveal themselves while sitting on them. 

Some stories involve partners who are loved but don’t love back. Some are about little children who live within us. The ones that crave love, attention and approval, even at the ripe age of 58.

Some involve office bosses and it turns out that in most cases, the bosses are playing with the little children we just spoke about. In my mind, I often call them chairs of courage, because the vulnerability and courage they help people reveal are unmatched. The power to let someone speak about their deepest secrets, darkest moments and sometimes the toughest insecurities- is magical. 

I wish I alone possessed that power. But, alas, it isn’t so.

I often sit in my turquoise chair with wooden handles and look expectantly at the people in the womb chair. Some people begin like waterfalls, and soon their narration turns into a gushing-flowing-river. While a few others begin with doubt. ‘Where do I start?’, may be the statement their chair has heard the most. 

I know it is my cue to step into the role that the chair with wooden handles has allotted me. I give them a direction-a little probe, sometimes- a small question. I know that is all that’s needed because by the time people decide to work with me, they are full to the brim.

I have been on the other side, on the other chair as well. I know what it feels like at the beginning, and I know the relief that comes at the end, sometimes after several weeks, but relief for sure.

Oh, and I completely forgot to introduce another main character in the story: the famous slanted chair. This one truly creates magic. Time travel, forgotten memories, dreams, and warm hugs are its speciality. 

People get to this one only after sitting in the womb chair for a few hours. But sitting in it often shrinks their time spent with me. 

I have personally witnessed magic on it.

The chair that I don’t have is the one that is hardest to describe. I know its characters though- it teaches people patience. It sometimes offers them solace while they wait for their time on either the womb chair or the magic-maker. 

And when the room falls quiet again, the chairs return to stillness. As if they know another story would reveal itself soon enough…..

If you have your guesses ready, then share them in the comments. I am waiting..