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“Good. That’s good. Now let’s talk about your father. Would you like to have him in your life?”
I took a long deep breath. “No, not anymore. I used to when I was a kid and dreamed that he would show up and take me to his house. Of course back then I imagined he couldn’t find me, and that was the reason he hadn’t come already.”
“But now you know better?”
“Yeah, I know he’s an ass.”
“For letting you down.”
“Yes.”
“Do you hate your father?”
“Sometimes.”
We continued on about my father for another twenty minutes and went over my only two disappointing interactions with the man, before I got so upset that I closed the session down and told Bruce I was done talking about my stupid dad.
Bruce pulled out a stack of cards and spread them out on the table.
“Do you see what these are?” he asked.
I read off their inscriptions. “Anger, rage, sadness, joy, euphoria, happiness, and many more.”
“These are all emotions. Yes?” he said and I nodded.
“You have thirty seconds to categorize them in good and bad emotions. Starting now.”
It was an easy task; it only took me ten seconds to separate the twenty cards into two piles.
“Which pile is good and which is bad?” he asked.
I pointed to the stack with anger and hatred. “Those are bad emotions.”
“Why?”
“They just are. Everyone knows that. They make you feel bad inside.”
“All right.” He took the stack. “And I assume the ones in the other stack are the good emotions.”
“Yes.”
He provocatively started to shuffle the cards. “Wrong answer.”
I leaned backed in my chair. “How can happiness be a bad emotion? Explain that to me,” I said skeptically.
“There are no bad emotions, Cia. Emotions are just emotions. They all serve a purpose.”
“A purpose?” I laughed, “You really shouldn’t eat funny mushrooms before our sessions. It makes you say crazy shit, you know.”
Bruce ignored my comment. “You said the emotions are bad because they hurt, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But pain is a useful feeling that motivates us into action. Anger for instance is a very powerful fuel against injustice, wouldn’t you agree?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do. Remember when you told me that you were once arrested for protesting against the closure of a homeless shelter?”
