Narcissus And Echo In Couples Therapy
Nemesis cursed Narcissus to unrequited love; he fell in love with his reflection. Hera cursed Echo to speak only words she heard spoken, after which Echo became infatuated with Narcissus.
1. Narcissus
The seer told my mother I'd live a long life if I never knew myself, whatever that meant. Yet here I am, talking with you, plumbing my thoughts for flashes of gold. I broke many hearts because I did not yet love myself. I did not know love's dark depths or what lurks in its chasms. When the young man sheathed my sword through his chest and died at my doorstep, I learned what love can do. No—not love— lack. He'd rather die than live without me, but how can I live amid such violent pursuits? The voice that followed me spoke only my own words until they faded in distance. I glanced at the pond's face, reflecting sky, and saw myself there. They say Helen's beauty launched a thousand ships, brought war to far-off shores and death to many. Yet my own face hurt anyone who saw it, including me. Now I know what lurks in love: a serpent coiled to strike, a hole scored by a blade growing of its own accord, the world in reverse. Every heart is just a mirror. You can see yourself in it, but backwards. Why am I here, then? Therapy is not a mirror. It is a door.
2. Echo
The seer told my mother I'd live a long life if I never knew myself, whatever that meant. Yet here I am, talking with you, plumbing my thoughts for flashes of gold. I broke many hearts because I did not yet love myself. I did not know love's dark depths or what lurks in its chasms. When the young man sheathed my sword through his chest and died at my doorstep, I learned what love can do. No—not love— lack. He'd rather die than live without me, but how can I live amid such violent pursuits? The voice that followed me spoke only my own words until they faded in distance. I glanced at the pond's face, reflecting sky, and saw myself there. They say Helen's beauty launched a thousand ships, brought war to far-off shores and death to many. Yet my own face hurt anyone who saw it, including me. Now I know what lurks in love: a serpent coiled to strike, a hole scored by a blade growing of its own accord, the world in reverse. Every heart is just a mirror. You can see yourself in it, but backwards. Why am I here, then? Therapy is not a mirror. It is a door.
