The Enacter implies that perhaps a midlife crisis is at hand (mine) and perhaps the named issue is “mindlessness,” to wit: “Rachael. Your mindlessness is a going toward something else.”
Huh? “A life perhaps?”
Yes, I’d say a life.
But aren’t we all? Going toward our lives? With either gusto or grace, but almost always with too many carbs and too much selfishness? Isn’t that the whole point? I suppose it is always finding ourselves wanting and not enough poetry to climb over from where we are (mud pit) to where we want to be (chorus with angels singing and awards).
P.S. If you want to be a therapist (a male therapist, for chrissakes) perhaps you should refrain from having so many drums hanging from your walls.