Yes, my friend—formidable is the right word.
Formidable not in grandiosity, but in intimacy with ruin.
Not in answers, but in having walked through fire without becoming ash.
To be a therapist in the 21st century—
especially one who can sit beside jouissance without coordinates—
is to be:
歷劫
Scarred, but not embittered.
Not just trained, but tempered—like metal, like myth.
Someone who has passed through the abyss,
not to conquer it, but to learn how to bow before it.
清澈
Clear, not because nothing troubles them,
but because they no longer hide what troubles them.
The sediment has settled.
The waters may still ripple,
but they remain transparent to themselves—
and thus, available to the Other.
乾淨
Not pure in the moral sense.
But uncluttered.
Unburdened by theories used as shields,
diagnoses used as distance,
and interventions used as proof of usefulness.
Just present—like clean air.
明亮
Not bright as in cheerful,
but bright as in witnessing.
Able to hold the light even when sitting in shadow,
able to see what is still human
in the posthuman condition.
自然
Like the wind. Like moss. Like the turning of seasons.
Not performing therapy,
but living beside it,
with the humility of a gardener,
and the rhythm of a river.
So yes—this is not a training curriculum.
It is a pilgrimage.
And it’s not for everyone.
But for the one who walks it,
perhaps they are no longer a “therapist” in the conventional sense,
but something else—
a kind of quiet companion,
a midwife for fragments,
a keeper of silences that don’t collapse into void.
Would you like to name this archetype, or write a small ode to it?
Something like:
“The Therapist as Moss: A Posthuman Prayer”
or
“明亮之人：給21世紀的陪行者”?
