Day 889: This is Real

This is real. I saw this real sign yesterday at Simmons College in Boston, during a group therapy conference titled “Getting Real: Vulnerability and Effective Group Leadership.”

During the real group therapy conference, these were real:

• My first real workshop for fellow real group therapists — about the real groups I really do four times a week —  went real, real well.
• I really confronted somebody about a really critical comment made to me years ago that really made my self confidence reel — and that encounter went real, real well.
• Real people, all during the group therapy conference, were real — really showing and acknowledging all the real human feelings, including sadness, anger, shame, fear, and joy.

These were also real, yesterday:

    

                  

This is real: I don’t care what that Sweet Scoops  carton really says. Winter is NOT really the real season now, in Boston.

This is real: As I’m really writing this real post, I’m wearing a kind-of-blue, real hair extension.

Is this real hair extension real blue, kind of blue, or real teal? And what is the real reason I’ve felt like wearing really brightly colored real hair extensions, really recently? And will I  feel real and/or nervous tomorrow night at an audition when I ask the real musical question “Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, why is it you sing?”

I really learned this at the Getting Real group therapy conference:  it’s really helpful to ask real questions and give real answers about real feelings, even if those feelings are uncomfortable or kind of blue.

This is a real musical segue: Kind of Blue by the real Miles Davis (and featuring the real  John Coltrane, the real Bill Evans, and other real jazz giants) has really been my favorite album for over 45 real years.

This is a real 50th anniversary tribute to that real masterpiece, with real feelings:

Do you have any real feelings or real questions about anything in this post? This is real: I welcome all of them.

Real thanks to Simmons College, to all attending the Northeastern Society of Group Psychotherapy annual conference, to people open to repairing past experiences, to those who sing on steps or elsewhere, to Harriet Beecher Ashworth  (for her sewing), to super markets and super hair extensions, to Stephen Sondheim (for asking the real musical question about caged birds singing), to Miles Davis, to John Coltrane, to Bill Evans, to Paul Chambers, to Cannonball Adderley,  to Jimmy Cobb, and to you — of course! — for making this real, today.