Estelle’s Story Doesn’t Have To Be Our Story

I’d like to tell you the story of Estelle, who came to me for therapy many years ago. Shy and reserved, Estelle was a beautiful woman and a talented artist. Her work had recently been accepted at a gallery, and she volunteered teaching art to children. Estelle wasn’t quite sure why she had come to therapy. Her boyfriend had urged her to and that was all she told me. After a few sessions, she haltingly showed me a small growth on her arm, and of course, my immediate reaction was to ask if she had seen a doctor. She said no, she didn’t like doctors, and she didn’t want any bad news. I urged her to go anyway. If it’s benign, great, but what if it needs treatment? Don’t you want to find out if it needs to be removed? To my amazement, she said no. I persisted. I was feeling all the concern Estelle should have been feeling, and I wanted to convey that to her through the urgency in my voice and the worried look on my face.

I asked her why she had shown me the growth if she really didn’t want to do anything about it. But she withdrew. It’s nothing, she told me. It will probably go away. Perhaps she overwhelmed herself by telling me, or perhaps I overwhelmed her with my worry. I will never know. I only saw her one more time. Several years later, I ran into the person who had referred Estelle to me. With sadness, she told me Estelle had ignored the growth until it was too late; cancer had spread through her body, and she had passed away.

We humans are all beautiful artists just like Estelle, with our spectacular creations, inventions, and discoveries over centuries, and all the breathtaking acts of loving kindness, generosity, and service we perform every day. Yet within the very same body of our country also lie our fast-growing cancers—mass hatred, murder, and destruction of our planetary home.

Estelle knew something was wrong, or she wouldn’t have shown me the tumor But another part of her needed to downplay the evidence as well as her fears. She retreated into denial. We, as a nation, are in the same position. The evidence that we are in deep trouble grows stronger daily– mass murders, increasing divisiveness, blatant discrimination and criminality in high places. We show each other our “tumors,” bombarding ourselves with images of suffering, destruction and injustice that all too quickly become the stuff of mass media and the basement fantasies of disturbed, lonely outcasts and domestic terrorists. We are more open with ourselves about our symptoms than Estelle ever was. Yet there are conflicting voices inside our collective awareness, and like Estelle, we are masters at downplaying the seriousness of our condition.

Just like Estelle, we are at odds with ourselves. We know the threats we face, and we don’t want to know. We could die from the cruelty and violence, but we don’t have to. America in therapy is no different than you or I being in therapy. Together we find a safe place in which to face our pain, dig deep into its origins and devote ourselves to removing our tumors– all that fuels hostilities and violence– so that we can make more mentally healthy choices that will bring us back into safe, loving connection and cooperation with ourselves and others.

We could die from the cruelty and violence, but we don’t have to, not at all. Who among us will advocate for America to be in therapy?

(Excerpted and adapted from America in Therapy: A New Approach to Hope and Healing for a Nation in Crisis.)