Strolling down the sidewalk with my 50% off Grande Crème Brûlée Starbucks coffee in hand I’m on an hour break in my workday. A few block walk to Fred Meyer for lunch and a happy hour coffee was an unexpected, but welcomed surprise. On the trek, I felt empowered. Not necessarily like an ape pounding its chest, more of a swan circling the water, at peace and relaxed.
I’m mindful how long ago expressing that I was a therapist felt like I’d soiled my pants and was trying to keep it a secret. Deep down I knew the truth, I was not a real therapist, but a fraud going through the motions and everyone could see it.
How excruciating those days were, the workdays I felt panicked and spiraled down a river of negative thoughts about myself. What was it that got me through; others kindness, the dummy in me that wouldn’t quit, or was it simply the drive to feel better? I recall observing people further down the therapy road than me with a similar or relatable story to mine, and maybe I thought if they can, I can too.
And here I am, feeling grateful for where I am today. Do I get rattled, make mistakes, and wonder what the heck I’m doing? You bet. But more often than not, I am rooted in the now, as a therapist, even as a writer. I’m gaining more confidence each day that the storms I’ve weathered, I’ll weather again, and the next time I’ll do it with the knowledge and support that comes with experience.
My last session of the night was a tear-jerker. A too-good-to-be-true, but is true transformation. Their gratefulness for the counseling space was immense, and it got me thinking. Would they write a letter to someone reluctant to go to counseling? I’d put it on my website, not as marketing for me, but as a “I know how hard it is and it gets better.” I want my website as a free resource for help with any and all things counseling, and I think a lovely letter written by them to an anonymous person would be cool. And most importantly, they think so too.
Besides doing North Bend’s Santa train with friends on Sunday, our weekend is free and open. Lately, my knee-jerk reaction is to do very, very little. Like a snail’s pace of doing and a hare’s race of relaxation and “notting.” I like “notting” a lot in the winter. Laying and eating, and laying, and sitting up, then eating again. It’s becoming a science fair project for which I’m sure the judges will give me a blue ribbon.
So yeah, that about does it. Back to more laying.
Adios.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 