Driven by kernels of cautious optimism, I make my way to yin practice with Vanessa. Coincidentally, I am reminded of university as I settle in on the mat and Vanessa tell us that today’s practice will be enhanced by mantras which she will share with us as we get into each pose. I’m ready to learn, and take mental notes.
I have a therapist. I see her once a week. I used to see her twice a week, but things got busy, and it got expensive, and I got broke. So now I see her every Tuesday for an hour. She gladly tells me the things I don’t want to hear, gleefully ignores my pleas for reassurance that I’m doing the right thing when in fact I clearly am not, and nudges me towards life’s great epiphanies in ways only a true professional can. She also encourages me to embark on paths to change, and to challenge myself to do better, because I know better, and I can be better. My therapist is unconventional. There’s no sugar-coating nor treading carefully. There are no white lies, and no elephants in the room. There is honesty and directness and unambiguity and it’s perfect. My therapy sessions are everything I know I need but haven’t had the vocabulary to seek out. However Charlie is not a therapist. Not by training nor by profession at least. She is in …
“How does it feel?” I turned 23 yesterday, and most people who shared their “happy”s on my birthday had the same follow up question for me. And so, it was stuck in my head all day. How does it feel to be twenty-three? What should it feel like? Should I feel something? Does anyone really know?
A-Coterie is the answer to the unanswered existential questions that hit you at 4am on a Tuesday morning, or while you stand idly in the queue at the grocery store. A-Coterie longs to fill a void manifested as ennui; a restlessness that seems unfounded yet very real. A-Coterie endeavours to inform without imposing, and pay it forward without preaching. A-Coterie embraces the uncommon wealth of a common experience.