The Good Listener Read Free

methods.
    It was all about mind manipulation and getting others to see things about themselves that were there the whole time.
    I cured years of depression in just a matter of months.
    I was just that good.
    Well, some patients needed a little longer than that, depending on the issue.
    But the point of the matter is that I always got the job done.
    And I was always striving to be better.
    Some would say that I was consumed with work.
    They were probably right.
    Some even said that I seemed to be a little obsessed with my patients. And maybe I was, but I was fine with that.
    Joel complained so much about my job, but I’d learned to ignore him. He hated that I worked so much but sometimes an eight-hour work day just wasn’t long enough.
    I had some big shoes to fill, and I didn’t plan on letting anyone down, anytime soon. Everyone wanted to know my secret. But my secret wasn’t really that big of a secret at all. My secret to success rested on one simple fact: I was a good listener.
    My mother always told me that the key to any good therapist, counselor, or psychologist in my case, was to master the skill of listening. Hearing the patient’s problems was one thing. But actually listening to them was another.
    Most therapist would say that they had this skill, but truth be told they didn’t.
    It took patience. It took practice.
    I didn’t listen to diagnosis them. I didn’t listen to give them an answer that I’d learned in school or in a textbook. I didn’t listen to have an expert, professional response that was going to make them feel like they were getting a whole lot of bang for their bucks.
    No.
    I actually listened to hear them.
    I heard every single detail, and every single word that they said; whether they said it out of their mouths or with their bodies instead. I worked overtime to find the root of the problem so that I could address it, get to know it, and then get rid of it. And needless to say, my mother’s tip had been absolutely right, and it had brought me more success in my career than I’d ever imagined.
    Whether it was matters of the mind or matters of the heart, I could fix it. I could fix anyone.
    Arriving at work, I looked around.
    I was still curious as to who had been lurking in the shadows the night before.
    “Good Morning Hannah. Your eight-thirty is already here,” my assistant and one of my closest friends, Summer, greeted me.
    Summer had been working for me for the past few years. She had been searching for a job for a while when she’d come my way, but immediately we connected and despite some trouble in her past, she had been doing an amazing job. I depended on her for so much, and she always delivered. She was also reliable, honest, and she just made everything easier.
    But her great work ethic wasn’t the only good thing about her.
    Summer had the personality to die for. She was fun, single and every bit of sexy. She was like a happily ever after, and a “to be continued” all rolled up into one.
    The best of both worlds.
    And I was proud to say that she was also my friend.
    “Okay, give me ten minutes and then send her in. Oh and send out a mass e-mail and put the security guard suggestion back on the table. I think it would be a really good investment.”
    I shared an office space with four other licensed psychologists, all specializing in different areas.
    But I didn’t limit myself. I tackled everything. You couldn’t be the best with limitations.
    Moments later, I took a deep breath, placed on a painted smile and I headed to my office door to greet my first client of the day. After talking with her for only a few minutes, the conversation went in an unexpected direction.
    “Dr. Lewis, I just want to say thank you. You’ve helped me get my life back, and I couldn’t thank you enough. Words can’t express how much I appreciate you. But I came here today to tell you that I don’t need you anymore.”
    I smiled.
    I never rushed a patient to heal.
    I allowed them all to