One Foot First

Susan met me at the door, arms extended wide. “I’m glad you called. I always try to find the time for my clients in crisis.”

I sidestepped her arms and walked into the room. “Thank you, I don’t know if I’m in crisis, but…”

“Hush, hush, you know the rules here, we FEEL our feelings.” She motioned to a pink, puffy recliner.

“Please take a seat, and we’ll start fixing you!”

Against my better judgment, I sat. Susan pushed the remote, and the back of the chair lurched back, and the footrest shot out, jerking my legs to the heavens.

Meditation music played softly from the speakers in the ceiling. Susan hummed while she ran the wand around her singing bowl.

“Can we get on with this, please? I have to go back to work. I need help functioning instead of focusing on the demise of most of my coworkers.”

Susan let out a long, high whine from her bowl, then set it aside. “Negativity isn't healthy; we must try to always think of joy and light!”

“Negativity is unavoidable; my entire career is rife with it. What I need help with is how to manage my response. It’s my dream job, but the pettiness and backstabbing among my coworkers is tearing me apart.” I attempted to raise my head so I could look Susan in the eye, but she dropped the headrest lower.

Susan used her remote to lower the lights. “Hmmm, okay, do some deep breathing exercises, then we’ll start some gentle hypnosis. I think I have a good technique for you to try.”

I felt my frustration rising. I find deep breathing annoying; it’s unproductive in my opinion. However, I timed my breath to the rhythmic sound of gentle waves on a sandy shore.

I heard Susan chanting softly before I drifted off to a deep sleep.

When I woke up, my body felt like jelly. A little drool ran down onto my neck.

“Ah, welcome back,” Susan said. “Take a couple of minutes to fully awaken. I have another client who’s waiting.” She pressed the remote, and the bright overhead light hit my bleary eyes!

Blinking painfully, I asked, “Don’t we need to discuss my stress issues, what strategies I can use to deal with my workplace anxiety?”

“Don’t worry, while you were in the hypnotic state, I gave you a tool to manage. I’m sure you’ll find it works quite well.”

And with that, Susan hit her remote, and I almost catapulted out of the recliner as it returned to an upright position. I was ushered out of the room by her assistant, who left me standing awkwardly in the lobby.

I needed a cup of coffee, I was still a little groggy. I sat in the cafe, chewing on a stale doughnut and sipping lukewarm coffee, pondering my choice of therapist.

I quietly opened the door to the office. All seemed calm as I made my way to my small office. The rest of the day may go smoothly.

Dave, head of marketing, poked his head in my door and demanded I come to the boardroom for an emergency strategy meeting. I gritted my teeth, gathered my notes, and headed down the hall. I walked in, noticing that Sandy was already at the table, sitting in my chair. She smirked at me. I felt a wave of fury rise up and then, oddly, dissipate.

I smiled and said, “I think I’ll stand for this meeting. We need to wrap up this ad campaign by tomorrow. The client didn’t like what we’ve put forward so far.” I shot Sandy a fierce look, but didn’t lose my cool.

Four hours later, my stomach was rumbling, and my head ached. It wasn’t easy, but despite a great deal of infighting, we managed to put together a convincing campaign. Apart from the headache, I felt much more comfortable in this environment. Looking around the room, I saw coworkers exchanging puzzled glances, but I ignored them.

As I passed his office, Dave yelled, “Awesome work in there today! Keep it up, kid.”

I hated being dismissed as a kid, but then I immediately mellowed. “Not a kid, Dave, however thank you for the compliment.”

Dave looked at me oddly, “Well, goodnight!”

Weeks went by. I was increasingly comfortable at work. The staff still quibbled and acted unprofessionally, but it no longer bothered me. I handled high-pressure situations easily. I found my rhythm and discovered that by standing at meetings, I could more easily steer things away from chaos and into action.

I noticed the staff was talking behind my back, they were probably jealous of my ability to knock off ad campaigns on time and on budget.

One Friday, Dave asked me to stop by his office before I left for the weekend.

I entered, and he said, “Close the door.”

I did, assuming I was about to be promoted.

Dave looked at me with concern. “Rebecca, people are concerned about your behavior recently. You are making them uncomfortable.”

Stunned, I started to reply.

Dave pointed and said, “That! That thing you’re doing. What the hell is it? It’s creeping everyone out.”

“Dave, are you okay? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Just stop, how can you not know? I need it to stop.”

Anger grew. I felt unbalanced, then suddenly just fell over. I hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of me. “Ouch! What the hell happened? I don’t understand how I got on the floor.”

Dave knelt over me and asked if I could sit up. I struggled, but I was able to sit and pull myself into a chair.

“Should I call 911? Dave asked.

“No, I’ll be fine, I think. Please explain to me what behavior you and the others are concerned about.”

Dave sat back down and sighed. “Rebecca, that odd one-legged thing you do is unsettling. It’s the reason you just fell over.”

I laughed, “Dave, are you on drugs? I don’t do that.”

“Oh, Rebecca, that’s a problem. I’m really worried. Look, we taped several of our ad meetings, as you know. I want you to look at a few examples of your issue.”

He flicked through several meetings. There I was, every time there was any tension, my right leg raised and my foot tucked up almost to my groin. Every. Single. Time.

I stammered, “I don’t know, I can’t explain. I honestly had no idea I did that!”

Dave got up, put his hand lightly on my shoulder, and said, “I’m sorry, Rebecca, I have to ask you to leave the firm until you can get a handle on this. I wish you the best. Take as long as you need to pull yourself together. I’ll have security send your things.”

I walked slowly home, trying to deconstruct what happened. I did amazing work, how could he suspend me? Lately, I’d been killing it; my client closure rate was impeccable. But I couldn’t deny what I saw on the video playback. We had started using AI in advertising, but this was an unaltered video. I inexplicably crashed on the floor of Dave’s office. What could explain this?

I stopped walking. “Susan!” I yelled out loud! I looked down. I was standing on one foot. I dialed the phone.

“Hello, Susan Graham’s office, how may I help you?”

“This is Rebecca. I need an emergency appointment, immediately!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, we are closing in 30 minutes, and Susan is currently with a client.”

I snarled into the phone, “You are not understanding me, I NEED to see Susan right now! She has ruined my life. I need her to fix it.

The assistant gasped, “Well, okay, I’m sure she can give you five minutes, but that’s it. She has a social engagement tonight.”

I arrived at the clinic and was quickly shooed into a room. Susan entered shortly afterwards.

She glared at me. “You told my assistant that I ruined your life! That’s ridiculous, I’m a renowned therapist. I don’t ruin anyone. Now quickly, what is your problem?”

“You hypnotized me into holding up my leg every time I was irritated.”

“And so? Did you feel less stressed and more productive?”

I hesitated, “Well, yes, that’s true, but I looked like a freak, my behaviour frightened my coworkers, and my boss fired me. I demand you fix this.”

Susan looked agitated. She slowly folded up her left leg and stood steady on her right. “The Flamingo Method works! It has kept me sane for years. I have never shared it with anyone but you. I’m devastated that you don’t appreciate the gift! I want you to leave, NOW!”

I tucked my right leg up and calmly said, “I’m thankful, however, could you perhaps adjust the spell so that it’s less obvious? I’ll sit down in this lovely chair, and you can help me with a little hypnosis.”

Susan held open the door. “ Get out of my sight, you ungrateful woman! I don’t want to see you again.”

I tried to protest, but I realized it was fruitless. I hopped out of her office on my left leg.