11 LAYNE Present dayAs I walk into the small, cozy waiting room, the glowing aromatherapy machine in the corner puffs a stream of vapor out into the air. I can’t quite place the smell—something herbal and soothing with a little lavender in it, maybe—but it instantly puts my mind a little more at ease as I sit on the edge of one of the overstuffed armchairs along the perimeter of the room. A large painting of a sunset over the ocean hangs on the wall across from me, and I zone out, staring at the sweeping strokes of red and orange that fade into subtle pinks and yellows.
It’s only my fourth session with my new therapist, but I have to say, it feels like it’s working. Whatever that means in this context. Sure, I’m still stressed and unsure about my life, but so far, just having someone else
