I once had a therapist tell me I should never try mindfulness. Or meditation, for that matter.

“Nothing that encourages you to spend more time alone with your thoughts,” she elaborated with the utmost seriousness she could muster on our Zoom session. She was seven or eight months pregnant at the time, and that combined with COVID-19 insanity had rendered her more blunt than usual. She had a speck of avocado smeared on her lower lip. Her tongue darted out to retrieve it as I digested what she was saying. I couldn’t decide if I should be insulted or not.