Unfinished…
Mr. Kesuke Miyagi: First, wash all car. Then wax. Wax on…
Daniel LaRusso: Hey, why do I have to…?
Mr. Kesuke Miyagi: Ah ah! Remember deal! No questions!
Daniel LaRusso: Yeah, but… — The Karate Kid
I try to live each day like it’s my second to last. That way I can always say, “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
I broke up with my therapist last year, because he accused me of faking it.
One night, I called him from the road, mid emotional-breakdown.
He said, “I’m going to say something that might make you never speak to me again…I feel like you’re faking it.”
“Faking it?!”
There are many things I’m perfectly capable of faking, but crying (real tears) is not one of them. I learned this, to my detriment, in acting school.
I calmly said, “I am going to hang up now.” And he was right, I never spoke to him again.
Luckily, I was already working with my accountability coach, Harry Petsanis.
He doesn’t like calling himself a life coach, and accountability coach is too many syllables for me, so I just call him my coach.
Either way, it doesn’t matter what we call him, because I speak to him almost every day, and he has helped me immeasurably, and never once has he accused me of faking it.
He’s definitely accused me of other things. He says things like, “You’re a lovely lady, but Gandhi would strangle you.” Or, “You need to get over being a diva and just get things done!”
But he knows how to get through to me in a way no therapist has. He doesn’t condescend to me, or make me feel dumb. Quite the opposite, actually. He always says, “You’re very smart. You’re very sharp. You just need to work on your confidence.”
He’s also helped me through some very difficult times including a break-up and my father’s death. So, to me, he’s better than any therapist. And we get along great.
Well, until he tells me to clean my car, which apparently is a nearly impossible feat for me.
When people say, “How do you get on stage and try to make people laugh?” I say, “How do you got to the bank? Or the grocery store? Or…
