Posts Tagged ‘growing’

Really?

January 3, 2018

Already?

FUCK.

I just read over the syllabus for one of my classes.

Vomit.

Vomit.

Vomit.

I am not ready.

No.

No.

No.

Sigh.

I got an e-mail from a friend of mine in the cohort, we take almost all of our classes together and I switched out a class to be in the this last class with her, tipping me off to a website builder that I could use for class.

I was like.

What?

Wait?

Is the syllabus already up?

And fuck me, yes, it is already up.

I read it over, I got a little tired reading it.

I think I just want to go back to reading my pleasure reading book and not look at a syllabus again for a day or five.

My next weekend of classes is January 19-21st.

It’s still a few weeks away, but it’s looming.

Fortunately the class that has the syllabus up has no readers or textbooks I will need to buy.

Unfortunately and I’m super annoyed by this, I do have to use readings, readers, and textbooks from my previous classes.

The class is Integrative Seminar, and it basically requires that I write a 22-29 page paper with a personal narrative of when and where I had revelations in my classwork and what those looked like and how I will bring those insights into my therapy sessions with future/current clients.  Plus a part of the paper has to be a clinical review of one of my current clients.

Ugh.

That’s a fucking pain in my ass.

Not that I can’t write that many pages, I won’t have a problem doing that so much, but um, I didn’t save my notebooks from my previous classes, I recycled most of them, I also don’t have the majority of my textbooks, I sold them back.

ARGH.

I do have one ace up my sleeve, I just now literally realized.

I have a program on my computer called Perrla.

It basically is a graduate student’s wet dream.

It helps format papers in APA (The American Psychological Association) and it builds your bibliography for you as you’re writing the papers.

I should have all my papers from all my classes, except for maybe the first couple I wrote, that are saved in my Perrla program.

I can reference those papers to write the bigger paper for this class.

That will be my saving grace.

So grateful I just remembered that.

Really no need for me to get all anxious about shit anyway, I’m a writer, I will write.

I have had some pretty transformative moments in school and I have grown so much in my personal life that I am sure I will be able to knock out a 30 page paper with ten references pretty damn quick.

Plus, thank God!

Thank fucking God, I keep really good notes from my supervision sessions with my solo supervisor.

And I am fairly certain I have all my notes from supervision and now that I know I’ll be presenting a case I can take more prodigious notes while in session with him.

I don’t know what I’m bitching about.

All things considered I will be writing more than 30 pages for a PhD dissertation.

God only knows how much writing that will entail.

I talked my therapist a lot about that today, amongst other things, like coming up on my 13th sobriety anniversary and what I will be doing to acknowledge that, and how I sent out an inquiry to the dean of the school I’m thinking about applying to.

My therapist is way behind me going for it.

It’s nice to have that support.

And she made a really good observation that by the time I will finish up my PhD I will also be close to accruing all my hours for licensure.

That sure would be swell.

My PhD and my license.

I’m so down for that.

I got a response to my inquiry late afternoon today while I was at work.

I probably had gotten it far earlier, but work was a busy one and I didn’t check my phone until nearly end of day.

And there it was, a message from the dean in response to my ask.

She told me two very valuable bits of information–the program only accepts students in the fall and the deadline for the upcoming fall semester is the end of February.

My timing couldn’t be better.

She asked that we make time to chat soon either in person or over the phone.

I asked for a phone interview to discuss the program after I get out of supervision next Monday morning.

I am going for it.

I can’t believe I writing that and at the same time it feels exactly like what I am supposed to be doing.

I am genuinely excited.

Sure.

It will be more work, but I’m used to it at this point, I’ve been doing the work now for over two and a half years, I know what needs to be done and the time it goes by so quick.

“How’s school?”  A friend asked me New Year’s Eve.

“I graduate in May!” I told her, I might have squealed, jumping up in down a tiny bit.

“Oh my god, didn’t you just start?”

Yeah.

That’s what it feels like, like I just started, and I also feel like I’ve been doing it for a really long time, the school bit has very much informed my last two and a half years, it has colored literally everything I have done.

And not done.

Oh the social stuff I have missed out on.

Then again.

I cannot fathom the growth that I would not have had if I not been in school.

The growth I have had is astounding.

Nothing says personal growth quite like going to school to be a counseling therapist.

Shit.

Let me process some stuff ok?

On top of getting back into therapy.

Thank God for therapy.

It’s been so good for me.

So I’m not mad at what I “missed” I have gained so very much.

And I’m just going to keep growing.

What a magnificent thing.

To be on a path where I am always learning and growing.

That is a gift.

Seriously.

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Tiny Pockets of Perfect

October 20, 2017

Little precious moment of complete and utter luminosity in my day.

Small things but grand, full of beauty and quiet happiness.

An hour before work with my favorite person in the world having coffee.

Getting a car downtown to meet the family I nanny for and the baby falling asleep in the carrier, I sat and watched the children playing and was warm and snuggled up in a corner and basically got to be still for an hour and a half.

Oh.

I suppose that is not everyone’s cup of tea, but for someone like me, who often moves fast, slowing down is a grand luxury.

Going slow on my scooter and missing the rain that happened.

Although the streets were slick when I went into my internship, they had dried by the time I left and I got home safe and dry.

The best leftovers from a dinner I made last night for my best friend.

Delicious and it reminded me of our time together.

Time that is precious and valuable to me.

Human connection.

Love.

Having a client consult cancel on me and having a full hour to do homework reading and the best, the text is really interesting.

I was a little concerned when I saw that I had to read a 184 pages of a book for just that one class for my next weekend of classes, but the book is quite compelling and I knocked out 58 pages in the hour that I had with no client.

A really good session with another client to end my evening.

And now.

Some Yo Yo Ma playing Beethoven.

I’ll take it.

And tomorrow is Friday.

Oh sure.

It’s still a full day, but it’s payday, which is nice, not that I’m spending any money on anything right now, I am trying to squirrel away for a new car next month, but it’s still nice and I worked over time for the family and when that happens I get it in cash instead of taxed, which is a nice bonus.

So I’ll use that for my “fun” money for the next week.

I’ll work 9 hours tomorrow at work and then take two clients afterward.

But then the weekend.

Yes, I will have group supervision on Saturday and I will also have to sit through an additional hour of supervision since my solo supervisor was away on vacation, but it will feel like a day off, this Saturday.

A day to get in a yoga class, to go do the deal, to not be too pressured to perform.

Group supervision really is just marking time and I don’t have to get highly present for it.

Solo supervision is another thing entirely and that will feel like work, but it will be just an hour.

Then.

Maybe a manicure, maybe a coffee in a cafe, maybe some stickers.

Heh.

I do like my stickers and I discovered a small stash of stickers from Paris this morning when I was doing my Morning Pages.

I had thought I was all out.

It was nice to find a few more.

I have tons of notebooks still from Paris, but yes, the sticker supply is fast dwindling.

I will need to re-up soon.

I am such a girl sometimes, but I’m alright with indulging my inner child, she didn’t get much indulgence growing up and sometimes, hahahahaahaha, I’m writing this sentence and out of the corner of my eye I note my fashionable bunny slippers, I need to indulge her.

Hence stickers and um, ha, bunny slippers.

I did not have slippers growing up.

Hell.

I didn’t have slippers as an adult for a very long time, but man, when I finally indulged, happiness!

Especially now that the seasons are fully turning and it’s getting chilly out there.

I was a touch overdressed on my scooter today, thinking it was going to be colder than it was, but the days grow short, the nights grow long, and the temperatures have dropped.

And now the rain.

A touch of melancholy.

A soft stirring of sadness.

And I remember that I am allowed to hold more than one or two or three emotions.

I can hold many.

Even the painful ones that hide in the pretty ones.

Tender and sad and soft and sweet and let myself have them so they don’t stay stuck.

I can get stuck sometimes and the words don’t come out right and I feel tongue-tied.

All of that too.

Even in the starred days, in the ways that light affects me and the pulling at my heart as it wanders far above in the night sky.

Sings to me this lullaby.

Loss and sorrow and surrender and unmitigated love and struggle and joy all of it.

Perfect in my imperfections, still making mistakes and growing.

Pain, the touch stone of spiritual growth, I remind myself.

The way that I can see all the loveliness and feel all the joy because I have experienced the other side and have something to compare it to.

I made myself sad without meaning too.

And left adrift in my melancholy I will listen again to the sound of the cello, winsome and low against the piano and the story it tells me slides inside my heart and falls like the soft rain outside my door onto my face.

I am not always good at this.

Being human.

But I am always, oh so very.

Very.

Human.

Which is perhaps.

The most perfect of all.

Perhaps.

Cool Air

March 2, 2016

Sweet jasmine.

The air rushed over me and the lush, intoxicating, syrup of jasmine blew in through my nose and bloomed over my heart.

The smell right now is insane and gorgeous and cool delicious.

It makes the ride home so good.

The day went fast and I am excited for tomorrow.

Date night.

Heh.

Wednesday is not a typical night for me to go out on a date, but this just happens to be when we can meet and that’s probably for the best, I’m going to be in it for school this upcoming weekend.

I have two papers and I’m deep into the reading.

I got a lot of it done, but there’s still more to do and I have to go have my experiential exploration.

For my Multi-Cultural Counseling and the Family the class has to go somewhere outside of it’s comfort zone, culturally.

I am planning on going to the big Chinese super market in the Inner Sunset and attempting to buy some groceries.

Although I don’t need them, I need the experience of being out of my element in an environment where I don’t know what’s happening, or can speak the language.

I’ve had the experience before, being somewhere and not knowing the language or how to get around, but we have to do something locally, something uncomfortable and the grocery store came up as I had the experience trying to shop there when I first moved out here.

I was absolutely flummoxed.

I just wanted some apples and I saw some in the bin out front of the store.

But nothing was in English, nor did any one in the store speak English and the signs were not in English and I was the only person in the store who wasn’t Chinese.

It was surreal.

And amazing and scary too.

The unknown.

It always is.

Putting myself out into unknown spaces, trying new things, meeting new people.

Being vulnerable.

Yet.

I believe, in that space, that vulnerable space, when I let myself be seen, there, just there, in that flame of light, I am somehow more known, and more loved and more open to being a human being having this oh so human experience.

Grateful for every last succulent bit of it.

Even when it’s uncomfortable.

School.

What a gift, annoying, difficult, wonderful, amazing.

Learning, showing up, being new at something, growing.

All the things.

All the things I need to get for Burning Man!

Yeah.

That’s where my head went to last night as I started to make the budget in my head, the spending plan, the, yes, I am going to have awesome amenities, but fuck, I don’t have a blow up mattress, lent that to a girl friend few years back and I don’t think it made it off playa alive.

So new blow up mattress and some bedding, I’m not willing to sacrifice my lovely sheets or pillows to the playa, but some sort of bedding must be had and pillows and maybe something soft and furry.

I have two soft fluffy throws I’d be willing to bring out there–as they both went out last year and actually made it back and were not really much worse for the wear once I threw them through the wash.

It was super cold last year at night, however, and so I’m thinking another snuggly blanket may be necessary.

I should go through the bins and check out what I need to get.

I loved having a shoulder harness last year, but I think I lost a rivet on one of the arms and a strap is loose, sure I could get that fixed, it was better than the utility belt scenario that I have had for a few years.

Not that I won’t bring that belt, it still got used, but I like having something smaller and lighter on me and a shoulder harness was nicer for that.

Goggles are good, I still have a fairly new pair from last year.

Boots.

Always on the look out for a better pair of boots.

Last year I just bought a cheap pair that were on sale and ditched them when the event was over, just tossed them right in the trash.

I may do that again, I may upgrade and just see about having a good solid pair that I take back out there again.

I mean.

I’m sort of a Burner for life is how I see it.

Maybe some day, I’ll say, hey, enough, enough with the hot and the dusty and the blinky blinky and the hippies and the burniform and the misconceptions that everyone else in the world has about Burning Man and I’ll just stay home.

But.

Not this year.

Nope

I’ll happily pay for another ride on the merry-go-round of “funishment.”

There is just something about the whole damn thing that gets me right in that sweet spot, my dusty little heart, the high skies, the colors of the sunset, the being there, so there, that there is no where else to go or be, just there.

Home.

Ayup.

So.

A little list will be started.

I won’t have to put together as much as I did for last year since so much is being provided for me, but I do believe that I should go through my stuff see what may need replacing or augmenting, upgrading, or if there are any little additions that will just make me happy to have and thereby a better experience for me.

Like.

I need a new parasol.

Not sure what I did with the one from last year, but I’m pretty sure I left it hanging off the back bumper of the Flash trailer I was crashed in.

Mary Fucking Poppins has to have an umbrella.

That’s just the rules folks.

So many exciting things in my life.

So much life in my life.

I’m happy.

Really happy.

And it just so happens that was my spiritual principle to practice today.

Happy.

It’s a good one.

And I am definitely right there in the middle of it.

The middle of the boat.

Right smack dab.

In love with my life.

AKA.

Happy.

 

 


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