Do you remember your early childhood? What imprint did it leave on your personality? What do I remember from one to two years old? I remember the nursery. I remember my first visit to this wonderful place. A large, bright room. There are about 15 beds in it, small, clean, covered with blankets. Large, bright windows. Near the window there are some shelves and bedside tables with toys and books. Teachers, like large barges, slowly sailing through the territory. And a bunch of children noisily running to get toys. I don’t understand what’s going on here. Am I here for the first time or have I just woken up? Everything is new to me. It’s wonderful. The understanding comes that I also need to run. I run. I grab what I can reach and it’s still no one’s. Some kind of white plastic slingshot with a wire. Someone explains to me that these are doctor’s instruments. Probably a teacher. He explains to me what to do with this object. Treat people. And now patients are next to me. Then I realized that in order to be in the center of what is happening you have to be someone. It’s nice to not be alone. It’s exciting to be in the center of attention. Was I interested in treating children, playing doctor? No. But think about it or somehow figure it out for yourself I had no time. I was just a doctor, with no options. When I grew up, I never became a doctor. But I carried the traces of this event through my life and calmed down only when I received a diploma in medical psychology. It takes so little time for something to be imprinted in a child’s head and become the only thing important. In general, I didn’t like the nursery. Everything there was foreign to me. Strange and no one’s, which means common and equally for everyone. And only the tags on clothes and bed linen had my name. I didn’t come home for long. And my mother and I didn’t have our own home. All the time is removable, temporary, official. When my mother bought dolls for me, the first thing I did was wash them, take off their clothes, and dress them in something homemade. My mother was always surprised by this, but fortunately for me, she didn’t stop me. If Z. Freud had interpreted my behavior, I suggest that he would say that in this way I was restoring my destroyed core of personality. By depriving the doll of its uniqueness, I was doing to it what was being done to me. Or maybe I’m washing away the bureaucracy from her, giving her a little bit of home and warmth? That warmth and home that I was missing so much? The nursery is like a life-long state stage. Endless, faceless, limitless. It does not end, it lasts a lifetime, flowing and changing its name. Garden. School. School. Institute. Job. Many people spin the wheel of this bureaucracy within themselves until their death. Others find it and manage to slow it down. Sometimes it seems to us that we live our own lives, follow our own path, make a conscious choice. But is it really what we choose? If you carefully examine your own life, you can find a lot of interesting things. For example, today’s choice, which was formed under someone’s influence, circumstances. A long time ago. By pulling this thread, you can come to your true self, getting rid of the superficial husk.