text: “I apply for jobs I don’t want, to work with people I won’t like in a country I don’t know,” I say in one quick burst. Dr Bremen leans back and observes me over the rim of his octangular glasses before saying: “Good. That’s a start at least, but we still have some unpacking to do. Why is it you apply to these jobs if, as you say, you don’t want to actually work them?”. I ponder this a moment. “I’ve never really considered why before; I just know that I don’t want to actually find a job, even though I’m constantly applying”. “Mm-hmm” replies the Doctor, “well then, have you any idea where this drive to apply comes from?” “Social pressure I suppose. My family want me to do well and apply myself. God knows I’ve been hearing that ever since Ellen was placed in the advanced class back in 2nd grade. “Evan is a good student” they used to say, “but if he just applied himself to his work he’d excel like his sister”. “I see,” says Dr Bremen. “Would you say you experienced some kind of pressure to follow in your sisters’ footsteps?” “Yes exactly!” I reply hastily--half delighted to have found a piece of the puzzle and half surprised I’d never made such a simple connection before. I always had a hard time expressing myself without writing things down. “All I ever hear is how great Ellen is. She’s been made partner at her law firm already--she only started two years ago. My parents rave about her any chance they get.” “So would you say you resent her?” “Not exactly. It’s not her fault she’s so great. In fact, she’s one of the only ones who takes the time to help me figure my own life out. Sometimes I like that. But other times it's frustrating, like she’s so perfect that she has time to get her own life in order and manage the life of her baby brother. What I mean is, she means well, but she’s like all the others” I stop at this point, afraid I’ve said too much. “Like all the others in what way?” Presses the doctor. “I don’t know... it’s like... they only see life in fast-motion--like they're playing on the highest speed setting in a videogame. Money, career, house, investments, success. Like some linear progression. Do this. Get that. Reinvest. Upskill. More experience for your resume; push for a promotion; work harder, make more. Go. Go. Go. I just don’t get it, I never have. My mind doesn’t work that way.” “How does your mind work?” asks the doctor. “How does anyone’s mind work?” I reply sarcastically. “What I mean is, what is it you feel is different about your mode of thinking to those around you?” “It’s hard to put into words. A lot of the time I feel distant. I can get caught up in the tiniest detail. Or sometimes I can just sit and enjoy the whole thing, the moment, the feeling in the room--smells, sounds--then I zoom out. I picture it all. The whole thing. This giant organism called Earth, with all of us performing different functions, influencing the whole. It sounds kind of cringe when I put it like that but I don’t know how else to put it. “Remember what we talked about. Describing your own feelings as “cringe” only stifles your thought and causes you to withdraw. Come on Evan, I know you know better than that by now”. I nod slowly while trying to collect my thoughts. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that everyone always seems so anxious to change the world in some way. To create or destroy, to uproot or control. I just don’t feel that urge - at least not as strongly. I tend to get lost in the complexity of it all. Sometimes this hurts me and I find everything confusing and I struggle to make sense of my own relation to things around me. But other times... I don’t know, I’m just perfectly happy thinking about the whole thing working in unison, perfect the way it is. Like serendipity.” “I see,” says the doctor, “and you feel that this mode of thinking clashes with the thoughts of those around you, your family and friends?”. “It clashes with the whole system,” I say, a little too emphatically “I don’t know. I don’t want to go all Karl Marx, but sometimes I feel our whole direction is skewed. We chase goals that we never chose ourselves, but which benefit the economic and social structure we’ve been born into. I mean, of course, some people are naturally ambitious and want to do well and compete with themselves and others or make a lot of money and reach the top of their careers, and that’s okay. But it’s the people who don’t fit that mould that suffer. People like me.” “So then, this brings us to applying for jobs you don’t want” the doctor leans forward slightly, “If I understand you correctly, you feel that society puts a pressure on you to follow a certain path, and you struggle to reconcile this with your vision of the world?” “Exactly!” I nod excitedly. “I apply for jobs in insurance and banking because I feel like that’s what I’m supposed to do. But my heart’s never been in it. And then I wonder whether it really is society at fault, or if it's me? I mean, there are plenty of people who’ve said no to the rat race and done just fine. I just... I never felt like that was an option for me. Besides, what would I do? Live like a bum and float about? How would family gatherings go then? At least now I get introduced as our son Evan, he’s had an interview with XYZ insurance company this week. Instead, it would be: this is our daughter Ellen, she’s a partner at Hook’s law firm. And this is Evan, he’s... travelling? On a gap year in his 30s...? I don’t know...” “Well let’s not catastrophise just yet. Are there any jobs you could see yourself working?” The doctor asked, before scratching his chin and adding, “actually, let’s leave the subject of jobs for now. What kind of life do you imagine when you think of yourself as old and content?” I look at the doctor for a moment in confusion. I watch his glasses slide slowly down his hawkish nose as I realise, I’d never really taken the time to think that. Should I have thought about this sooner? I stop myself before I spiral into what-ifs and reply “I guess I see myself surrounded by nature. I’d like to live in a small cottage with lots of books.” “Good,” says the doctor “and how would you spend your time?” “Well, I’d like to have a small garden, maybe some chickens too. I’d like to read a lot and maybe write too. I used to love writing as a child. It was all I ever wanted to do, but since I left school, I haven’t written much at all. I always found it easier when I had a teacher to assign me homework and give us topics to write about.” “Interesting. How would you feel if I were to assign you homework?” Asked the doctor. “Are you going to grade me too?” I laugh. “No no, but maybe the structure could help you. Your first assignment could be to think through this vision you have of the future and try to put it into words? We can review it during our next session.” “That sounds... actually like a good idea,” I say. “Does that mean our time is up today?” “Almost” he replies, “unless there’s anything urgent, you’d like to talk about?” “Not really” I reply as I stand up. “Thank you, doc, same time tomorrow?”. “Same time tomorrow Evan” he smiles.