That ain't no poker face

My early impressions were that Sam has a strong poker face. I've mentioned it in my blogs before. I was very glad that he would sit there in our sessions, totally expressionless and unmoved and as I was processing terrible incidents. Having given it further thought, I realise that the description "poker face" couldn't be further from the truth. A poker face is concealing thoughts and strategy. It isn't giving anything away. It's hiding feelings about a rubbish hand and fear of almost certain failure. It's looking for a weakness in the opponent. It's waiting for its moment to play a winning hand and scoop up the chips. That's not at all what Sam was doing. It was when I was telling a war story of rushing along a road with the bombardments in full swing and bullets everywhere, that I realised that Sam doesn't have a poker face, he has a calm face. And that's a world of difference. He was sitting there listening to all of the fear, horribleness and anxiety while remaining totally calm. Modelling calm. Reassuring an exceedingly tearful me that even though inside my story it is anything else but calm, it is totally possible to have another perspective. Then came the ah-ha moment: If Sam can be calm while hearing this horrible stuff, he can surely show me how to get there too. And, dear reader, he did.