Posted on Mar 16, 2019
Friday’s session with my trauma therapist ended on a
bittersweet note. It was a celebration of not only my therapy journey but also
the role he played. I could not have gotten this far without his gentle
guidance. In return, he felt honoured to join me on my journey and to bear
witness to my recovery and growth. As a therapist, I have also been privileged
to bear witness to my clients’ success and be the recipient of their deep
appreciation.
These conversations usually mark a transition from an ending to a beginning: the ending of counselling therapy overlapping with the beginning of the next phase of a person’s courageous journey of self-discovery and growth. What made Friday’s conversation different was the likelihood of a final good-bye.
You see, my therapist has been fighting cancer for a while now. And what seemed like effective treatment has taken a turn for the worse. Hence the bittersweet moment: a celebration of my success and the therapeutic alliance we formed coupled with a permanent ending—not just the usual “ext interview.”
Part of the ending process for therapy includes the reassurance that they can always re-access therapy if/when needed. I am glad that I am doing really well compared to when my therapy journey started and was steering toward the “exit” process anyway. Simply put, it is always hard to say such a weighted good-bye with the hint of finality—especially to someone who has had such a significant impact on your life.
In an interesting cosmic twist, my therapist’s legacy will endure
in my counselling room as I continue to pass on to my clients what I learned under
his guidance: to manage my anxiety, to dive deep, to come up for air, and to
not only persevere but thrive. His influence has been present in many a session
already. Now it will be with more poignancy.
As a trusted friend said to me, at least you had a chance to
say good-bye. Which is very true, and for that I am extremely grateful. How
many times to we say a final good-bye without knowing it? How often do we wish
we could have said good-bye, but didn’t have the option or opportunity?
So in an effort to honour the legacy and the final journey we all must make, transitioning from this life to the next, may the words of this Irish blessing go with him.
May you see God’s light on the path ahead
when the road you walk is dark.
May you always hear,
even in your hour of sorrow,
the gentle singing of the lark.
When times are hard may hardness
never turn your heart to stone,
May you always remember
when the shadows fall—
You do not walk alone.
I also wish you all a Happy St Patrick’s Day this weekend. May you wholeheartedly celebrate the love of life, family, and friends! Sláinte!
Wishing you a rainbow
For sunlight after showers—
Miles and miles of Irish smiles
For golden happy hours—
Shamrocks at your doorway
For luck and laughter too,
And a host of friends that never ends
Each day your whole life through!
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Posted on Feb 23, 2019
February is a funny month. The first half is focused on symbolic gestures (large and small) of romantic relationships. After Valentine’s Day, the Holly wood award season no longer has to share the spotlight; and social culture becomes hyper-aware of what awards celebrities win and what they wear to award shows. My focus is going to return to the former subject: love. In an odd coupling, it occurred to me that Saints serve a similar purpose to super-heroes and celebrities: those to admire and emulate. But Saint Valentine aside, I want to focus on the modern fascination with love and romance.
“Love is just a word until you meet someone who gives it meaning…” paraphrase from a line in the movie, “Book Club.”
Of all the subtle and not-so-subtle quips and quotes I’ve been handed over the years about love, this one rings the most true. I made some very misguided decisions based on the concept that love is a choice and takes work. In a nutshell: love = committment. [Something very doable for me.] But totally dismissing chemistry and connection. Not to mention mutual respect, consideration, and loving kindness. And now we know scientifically what it takes for a romantic partnership to last long-term: consistent, reciprocal affection and attention.
You don’t have to be in a romantic relationship for those primal needs of consistent attention and affection to be met. After all, our first introduction to those concepts came with infancy. We are hardwired from birth to know that the adults surrounding us are responsible for our well-being. In the world of psychology, it is fairly common knowledge about the post-war Romanian infants who died in orphanages—not for lack of food or shelter—but because the nuns couldn’t hold each infant while making loving eye contact (the distance of an infant’s vision). Tragic experiments were also conducted with monkeys to “prove” the hypothesis.
As adults, we still have these two primal needs for affection and attention. However, as we are no longer at risk of dying from these unmet needs, we experience other forms of un-wellness in the forms of physical and mental illness. In our Western culture, we have become almost exclusively dependent upon romantic partners to meet these primal needs. But I know people who are living proof you can thrive in social communities getting these needs met in platonic ways. Hugs and eye contact need not be in short supply.
We form communities of connections in all sorts of ways: work, friendships, book clubs, brother/sisterhood, therapists of all kinds, faith groups, sports leagues, hobby groups. Not to say these social circles automatically provide authentic connections, but they all have the capacity to provide healthy affection and attention. Sadly, however, we have all experienced the opposite effect from involvement in various systems, groups, or organizations. Hence, the opportunities abound—but, so too, the risks of being hurt. And emotional wounding is a significant mental health issue.
In my experience, my marriage was anything but attentive and affectionate. So I still had to look elsewhere for those primal needs to be met. Sometimes seeking it out specifically in a romantic relationship is what sets us up for failure. And sometimes seeking is the misguided first step. What if being open to it crossing our path is the first step? Not easy. Our primal needs drive us. We crave connection. That stable base from which we go out to explore the world, only to come back to replenish before going out again.
Sometimes we’ll do anything to find it, or at least fill the void. Not so easy to sit with our craving and open ourselves to the possibility of it being satisfied.
Hence why creating a loving world can only enhance our lives. The legends of Saint Valentine vary—as well as how his religious feast day became commercialized into Valentine’s Day. But maybe we can borrow a page from the story within the story. The basic idea is reminding people they are loved and cared for (whether the child of a jailor whose sight is restored or officiating secret marriage ceremonies) and to consider ways we can provide healthy affection and attention to those around us. None of us know the emotional wounding that is walking all around us. A greeting, touch of the hand, and eye contact may be all it takes to add loving kindness to someone’s day.
And the added bonus—at least two people always benefit from touch, eye contact, kinds words, and listening ears.
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Posted on Jan 18, 2019
I have chosen to revise my personal New Year’s letter for my first blog of the year. Oddly enough, it was just what I needed to read today having been rather discouraged about my life yesterday. I am reminded not to give up. So here goes…
Another year has come and gone with a brand new one ahead of us. This past year has held many challenges as well as pleasant surprises. The best one being the arrival of my dog, Abbie, whom I adopted from a rescue in April. She is a very well-mannered pup and a great companion, with just enough attitude to keep life interesting. After the first few months of excessive energy, she has settled into a more mellow life, accommodating my Chronic Fatigue limitations quite well.
As I look back over the past year and forward into the new one, I am grateful for my cozy cabin right next to a Provincial Park. It’s a great place to walk Abbie in all seasons; and we’ve taken great advantage of the snow and well-used ski/hiking trail minutes from my front door.
My office in St Pierre is very tiny (hardly more than a storage closet); but it is welcoming and comfortable for two (and a good reason to take a break from couple’s counselling). There was literally nothing to rent in the area; and my landlords graciously made space for me at a reasonable rate. Hard to believe I have been on this journey of re-establishing myself for over a year now. Sometimes it feels like I left my old life “just yesterday,” as they say.
There are moments I get discouraged as my work is not nearly as busy as it was in Didsbury, but that took 3 years to build up (the advantage then was that mine was the supplemental income, not the main one). The two provinces are vastly different for mental health networking; so it has been an uphill battle to break into the Manitoba market. Professionally, I have acquired the sought-after designation of CCC: Canadian Certified Counsellor, granted by the CCPA (Canadian Counselling and Psychotherapy Association). I attended the CCPA national convention, conveniently held in Winnipeg last year in May, as well as a couple of networking events for the Manitoba branch, garnering some great contacts plus broadening my understanding of the First Nations cultural situation. Disturbing and fascinating. I have also become a service provider for MB Blue Cross, so hopefully that will prove beneficial as well.
Living in a predominantly French/bi-lingual community has also afforded me the opportunity to continue my second year of French studies (building upon my high school French). I am a long way from being fluent; but it is good practice for my brain and counters my reclusive (aka homebody) nature. I have met some wonderful people and quite enjoy living in this rural neck of the woods.
As for marital status, I remain separated until I have the financial resources to file for divorce. Many have wondered how I am doing and of course are curious what happened. The short version is that our marriage did not survive the strain of losing our beloved dog, Gracie. She was the glue that held us together; and Elsa was a band-aid that couldn’t heal the wound. I miss her very much. I doubt I will ever find a self-trained therapy assistant like her again.
However, let me assure you I have no regrets—not to being married for 20 years and not for leaving said marriage. I have not only grown, but also blossomed, since venturing out on my own. When asked if I am okay, I can honestly say with enthusiasm, I am better than okay. Liberated is a good word. I sacrificed a lot in my past life. It feels very good to find myself once again. I have a new appreciation for so many different things now: as we say in this biz, that which doesn’t kill you makes you a more empathetic and effective therapist. I truly love my work and hope I can make a decent living out of it as self-employment is a necessity given my health limitations. If I could, I would do it for free; but I have yet to find that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I’ll let you know if I find it.
In the meantime, I will fail forward this year (a phrase that resonated with me when I heard it in a TV interview). I cannot avoid failure (and I saw plenty of it trying to start a practice all over again); so it gives me hope. Every experience can build upon another until I find I have a foundation that will hold me steady. It won’t be perfect, but the best things in life never are.
I am not there
I am not then
I am nowhere else
but here.
I am not them
I am not you
I am myself.
I rest from doing
need not achieve.
I do not ask
I do not need.
This is the place
for me to be.
Here I am.
“Dwelling” by Wendy Rudd
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