There is a moment in therapy that never loses its strangeness. A patient says something—a sentence, a phrase, sometimes just a word—and you can see that they themselves are surprised by it. The words arrived before the thought. The sentence finished itself. They look at you with that particular bewilderment and ask: “Where did that come from?”
Lacan would say: from the Other.

We imagine that somewhere beneath all our contradictions, all our competing desires and impulses, there exists a coherent “I” pulling the strings.
This is the uncomfortable truth that haunts our age of endless optimization, relentless self-improvement, and the incessant pursuit of productivity. 



Listening to the people who come to my practice, I realize that there is a great fear of time-wasting. 