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Here’s a guest column by my hilarious islander-friend, Ingrid Gabriel. This actually happened! Because in FH, we are all starring in this “Island Sit-Com”. 

Speed Therapy (Ingrid Gabriel – 10/2018)

“Speed Therapy. The other day I was in line at the post office behind Winnie, waiting for Jenna to finish with her customer.  Within moments we three had established a virtual circle of group sharing.  We managed to cover our thoughts and feelings on recent books we had read, to reinforce our mutual affection for one another, catch up on the status of our children, admire each other’s outfits, remind ourselves of our amazing awesomeness and agree to meet again and often – all in the time it took Jenna to gather up the next round of shipment cards.

I said that I had gotten a lot out of our microseconds together.  Winnie said, “It’s speed therapy!” and we decided, as she flew out the door, that it is a real thing. 

Though my time at the counter was brief, I felt I had made real progress on my issues.  Jenna and I agreed that I would come in for another session after she returned from vacation.  I made an appointment for 11:45 AM on any given day, which coincides with the likely time my mail finds its way into my PO box.

As I explored this newly-hatched healing modality, it occurred to me that Friday Harbor is an excellent place for Speed Therapy. There are confidentiality issues but we all know each other, are related to each other, or have been partnered to each other’s former partners.  .  

Despite knowing each other’s secrets, I don’t detect meanness behind the gossip. When I hear that a couple is getting a divorce, the teller usually mixes a note of concern in with the telling.  Any delight is just anticipation that the parties involved will be newly single and available for other disastrous relationships (Islanders tend to have more empathy than glee when learning of another’s misfortune. People are remarkably willing to stand, mail in hand, car running, to catch up). 

The only obstacle to Speed Therapy is that some environments are speedier than others. Jenna’s clients only have as much time as it takes to pick up a package or ponder stamps.  Your session is over when she calls out, “May I help the next customer?”

Same for therapists at Kings Market.  Whatever your distress, you need to articulate it and get emotional support in the time it takes your cashier-therapist to tally your groceries and take your payment.

Other than closing at 6:00, Market Place provides an ideal venue for Speed Therapy.  Some people go twice a day for that tiny cuplet of coffee and a chance to engage with a revolving staff of Speed Therapists.  Appointments are not an option, so it may serve us to establish some sort of therapist-client etiquette. No one wants to be the person who always finds themselves alone in every aisle because everyone else is steering clear.  And friends cannot charge Speed Therapy sessions to our insurance providers. 

Maybe Market Place should attach little flagpoles and colored flags to their shopping carts.  Hoisting a colored flag on your cart would alert other shoppers to your Speed Therapy status. A Red Flag might indicate, “I am available to greet you and inquire briefly about your mental state, that’s it.  Please respond that you are fine.  For the love of all that’s holy, do not take the opportunity to offer any information on your medical condition, your relationships, job, or whereabouts and achievements of your offspring.” 

More complex problems require the short but focused attention of a Yellow Flag, which indicates “I have a few moments to go over a rough outline of your life in one category”.   Yellow Flag means, “I have time to linger for up to five minutes in the mustard aisle for an abbreviated update. Please mention in broad strokes your vacation and travels, your new pets, your old pets, your houseguests, or any movies/television shows/ books/spiritual practices that you think I might enjoy. I have enough time to dabble into the minutia re: people we have in common, but you must limit yourself to three snarky comments. “ Yellow Flags cover mention of a colonoscopy, but particulars will have to wait”.

Orange Flags are signals to stand down. It signals that I am not in the right head-space to hear about the intricacies of diet or digestion.  But a Green Flag means that I am open to offering lengthy and intensive Speed Therapy sessions.  We will move to a private corner in the organic chips aisle to share deeply personal details near Barbara’s Baked Cheese Curls.

Green Flag sessions end when we acknowledge important progress and that I/you always feel better after talking to you/me…or the frozen stuff starts leaking…whichever comes first.

Purple Flags signal that I want to hear all about your diet.  Spare me nothing. Give me the exhaustive details on the supplements you are taking, your fasting regimen and the status of your colon health.  Please include the number of active bacteria in your probiotics, tell me how vinegar has all but eliminated your joint pain and sing to me your praises of kombucha.  If you are also into cross-fit, throw that in as well. My Purple Flag give inner resolve to stay strong (but are never raised. Ever).

Finally, if you see a White Flag, it’s not about you.  It’s me, really. As an uncertified Speed Therapist, I have reached my therapeutic limits and feel I am no longer effective.  The White Flag means that I am going to give you a referral.

Please set up a session with Jenna at the Post Office, and tell her that Ingrid sent you.”