SCALE FORWARD

The doctor clears the stones off the glass scale that is tipped in the direction of the empty seat. The scale is once again balanced. “Next patient!”

The patient walks into the doctor’s office. He looks around with uncertainty at the overflow of books on the mahogany shelves and takes a seat in the empty black velvet armchair next to the scale.

The doctor notices the diamond ring on his finger as he nervously grabs hold of the chair’s armrest. “First time you’ve had a therapy session?” she asks.

“And my last,” he replies, as he turns his focus to the picture of a kid reaching his hand in a cookie jar with the word Integrity at the bottom in a bold font.

“Never understood those kinds of pictures.”

The doctor grabs her note book from her desk and sits right across from the man, underneath a portrait of a woman holding a child.

“So what brings you here today?” she asks.

“I think people are useless. I don’t understand why they won’t listen to me.” he replies.

“That may be a little vague, but I’m sure you have your reasons for why you believe that.” she says, while grabbing a black box beside her seat. Handing it to the patient.

Inspecting the box before opening it, he shakes.

“Is this a gift or something? You’re too kind,” he says.

The doctor chuckles at his remark.

“I would like to think so. Actually I have a lesson for my first-time patients that require what's in the box and that glass scale next to you. I noticed you weren’t totally on board with the idea of therapy since you entered my office. Your participation will be needed in this exercise.”

The patient sighs and sits up straight in the chair. He opens the box and pulls out a handful of stones.

“Now, in this exercise I'm going to be getting to know you a bit better and try to understand why you’re truly here. How does that sound to you?”

The patient rolls the stones in his hand. “ OK!” he says.

“I’m going to make some statements and I want you to place a stone on the scale if the statements apply to you,” she says.

The patient nods.

“It’s hard for you to compromise with others. You prize your idea of perfection above all,” she says.

“That’s two statements doc,” he replies.

The doctor stares at him with a blank face. He turns to the scales and places two stones on the scale.

“You want love from those same people.”

He adds another stone.

“From what I understand, you seek validation and separation from everyone. I don’t believe those can coexist as easily as you want them to,” she says.

“I’m not following,” he says.

“You want them to love you but not know you. Doesn’t that feel unfair?” she asks.

“I want what I want. If I can’t live the perfect life I see for myself. I at least want the closest thing to it,” he replies.

“I think you are obsessed with something close to unattainable,” she says, while taking notes. “It doesn’t mean it's impossible, but sometimes we try so hard to craft the life we want without being able to actually enjoy it.”

The patient drops his head in his lap, showing signs of frustration. The doctor hears him mumbling something under his breath.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe what I want is unattainable,” he says.

“I believe what you’re looking for has been right in front of you the whole time. Raise your head and take one final look at the scale,” she says.

He takes a deep breath and looks up.

“The closest thing to perfection,” she says.

He stares at the glass scale seeing the three stones resting. The scale is barely off balance. He faces the doctor with a smile on his face.

Ko Williams: “I am from a small town Sumter, South Carolina. I am currently attending Full Sail University for my creative writing degree. I have been writing music and screenplays for some years now, I understand the magic a good story can bring to people. I truly enjoy what I do and hope to take my talents far. My dream is to inspire and create for the world!”