All this from

a 58 year old man whose dismembered ‘day world’, rule-book-following facade was lying eviscerated in a heap on the floor as he ranted himself raw. During his truth-telling I had to consciously remember to breathe for the beauty and rage he allowed into the room. His body heaved with such force I thought he might physically turn himself inside out in front of me, perhaps as part of the desire to be seen—‘look at my raw guts! Now there’s nothing to hide. Now you can see the carnage that lives in me’. When he had exhausted the words but clearly wasn’t finished he simply sobbed and raged with his clenched fists. For the first time in five decades, he found himself standing in front of a mirror and talking to the five year old boy alive and well inside him, who still believes in magic, in things beyond rationality or empiricism, who deeply values things only the human psyche and heart can decipher.
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