Posts Tagged ‘helping out’

Ratchet It Down

March 31, 2017

I’m trying to get mellow.

It has been a long day, much was done, much accomplished.

Biggest accomplishment was getting out to do the deal at a spot up in Potrero Hill that I don’t get to very often anymore since it’s an 8:30 p.m. gig and I’m trying to not be out that late on ‘school nights’ but, I knew when I was watching the lights of the city come up as the sun set that I needed to go and get my connection on.

And I did.

And it was good.

I got to see some folks I haven’t seen in a while and get reconnected and get some good hugs and see some sweet faces.

Always a plus.

And now I’ll be able to go into work tomorrow and be a kind, tolerant, generous person, the kind of woman I want to be.

I told myself it was going to be a long weekend.

No days off for this lady.

So I wanted to be getting the connection in.

I will also be doing the deal all through the weekend, but there’s not much down time for me.

Super grateful I got all the school stuff out-of-the-way.

So much stuff.

I met with my advisor today who is also the head of the department, which is fun, I get to share my experiences and suggestions with someone who has a vested interest in creating positive change in my program.

I’m not quite sure how we got on topic, something to do with the goal of pursuing the PhD and how I will need to do a lot of writing and I just chuckled and told him that my writing is fine, that I have a writing practice that I have been doing steady as she goes for ten years.

And this little blog that I have been doing for 7 and 1/2 years.

I have a practice you might say.

I told him that there are some folks in my cohort who have expressed some jealousy at how fast I can whip out a paper.

But.

That I have a method to it, yes, the practice is super helpful, I mean, fuck, it keeps my typing speed at a maximum I’ll tell you that, but it also is a practice and the more I do it the easier it becomes.

And.

I have a method to my madness when I am writing a school paper and I shared that method with him.

His eyes lit up.

“Do you think you could do something for me?” He asked.

I nodded yes and he laid out his idea for a teaching panel about how to write papers.

He wants me to sit on it and help incoming students with the process of writing papers.

I was very flattered.

And I’m always willing to share my experience with doing the work.

Of course.

It’s work.

That’s the thing, it’s not hard per se, but there is effort involved.

Sometimes when I talk to people about what I am doing or how I am doing I apparently give off this casualness about the work, but it’s work, I show up and do every day.

EVERY DAY.

Twice a day.

And let me be honest.

It saves me, it nurtures me, it is art, it love, it is poesie, it is pretty flowers in my hair.

I can make up the most fantastical amazing things the words and ideas and images I can suddenly be standing on the Trocadero in Paris and be transported to the sound of the Seine and the batobus going by, the cars rolling over the bridge or me, on my bicycle rolling along the bike path headed towards Rue de Commerce to see some fellows and get to down and do the deal.

I can see squares with green grass and gravel paths and benches under beech trees.

Or.

Like tonight.

Riding my scooter home from Potrero Hill the moon, oh the moon, a heavy-handed ladle of butter in a midnight blue velvet enamel coated spoon, the syrup of sweet heady jasmine floating to me through the cool air.

Or.

How that one turn from Fell Street as it becomes Lincoln Avenue and the open swath of green grass that leads into the park proper, how the air there is always cooler and brushes over me like a cat with cold fur from being outside in the night.

Furry and soft and petulant.

Then the over blown smell of cut clover at Keezar Park, a rounded bend in the road and the moon now to my right peeking and booing from in between the Monterey Pines in the park.

Divinity.

I mean.

Shit.

I could go on like that forever.

There is a logic to how I write and there is a rhyme and reason.

Sometimes I can explain that desperate call in my heart and sometimes the words fail.

But.

I keep showing up anyway.

And that is the trick.

“Just breathe and show up,” I told myself this morning as I walked out the door, saying good-bye to my little home by the sea to scooter off to school and jump through the next hoops to do the work to eventually, one day, be a great big grown up therapist instead of a junior baby in waiting.

I jest a little.

But.

It is a long road ahead.

Nonetheless.

It is important that I acknowledge the movement forward.

It is a big deal.

All my papers signed off and turned in.

All the “t’s” crossed.

All the “i’s” dotted.

I even talked with the financial aid department today.

I wasn’t expecting to be in practicum this summer, it just came together that way.

The summer practicum costs about $2200 to do.

Basically $1,098 per credit, was what I was told, with the caveat of “don’t quote me on that, but I believe that will be the cost” from the financial aid admin I spoke to today.

I decided at one point that I don’t want to take out any loans for school this summer.

I have a little in savings from my tax return.

Then.

I  got a financial aid e-mail from the school and I thought, maybe I should, that way if anything happens I won’t have to dip into my travel savings.

I really want to give myself a nice break in May and be able to do all the things in Paris that will make going to Paris all the fun that I need.

So.

Tomorrow.

One more little hoop to jump.

My paperwork is turned into the registrar and it’s official, I am an intern.

But.

The “course” needs to be paid for.

I will do the application, give myself the gift of a worry free trip in May and get my grad school on when I get back.

Internship begins May 22nd.

I will be ready.

Yes.

Yes, I will.

Staying In The Moment

March 18, 2017

Is hard to do.

Seriously.

If I’m not careful I’ve skipped over the whole weekend and I’m back at Monday and in the work grind again.

I can do that, magically get so caught up in the things that I need to get done that I forget to do the things for myself that I need to do, slow down, breathe, appreciate my efforts for the things I have done.

Acknowledge that shit, yo.

I worked a full week of work after having done a full weekend of school which was just following a full week of work.

So yes.

Tomorrow is my first day off in two weeks.

Hallelujah.

I am stoked.

I am going to do some nice things for me as I have done a lot of work for school over the past week, from showing up to my internship and signing papers, to e-mailing and contacting supervisors, to making appointments to interview with a possible supervisor–next Wednesday, to reading four chapters of Trauma class readings, and contacting possible therapists as I will need to be in therapy as I am working with the clients that I will be helping.

I have signed up for two yoga classes this weekend.

I have plans to see my people, two back to back sit downs to read and do the deal on Saturday.

And yes, I think I will, a nice little mani/pedi at the local nail salon as well as some eyebrow help, they’re starting to get a little out of control, as they do.

I may take myself out for a nice lunch.

I am thinking I will go out to dinner tomorrow night and do some fellowship.

Dinner somewhere in the NOPA neighborhood.

Sunday a day with a friend in San Leandro.

Sunday night a quick visit with a friend in the neighborhood.

And bam.

See.

I told you.

It’s Monday.

And somewhere in there I need to do food prep and cooking and I have entertained the possibility of writing my Trauma reflection paper.

Just to have it the fuck out the way.

Especially since I am going to be working an extra weekend this month.

I was also asked to work next Friday by a family I used to work for and I had to say no.

I am going to help out my current family the last weekend of the month, basically work a Saturday and a Sunday while the dad is away on work, the days won’t be super long, granted, but not having any days off will be challenging and I’m pretty aware of that.

I have turned down two gigs recently.

The one to work next week and a wedding in Napa.

Part of me considered very seriously both propositions.

The extra money would be nice, but.

I really want to see the boys I used to work for, but.

I just can’t do it.

I feel like I need all the reserves I can get to just get through my work and my school work and the additional stress of figuring out all the practicum stuff has been wearing on me, I am hoping, so hoping, that the Wednesday interview, before I go to work (which I might as well get used to, I’m going to be working with a supervisor once a week for two hours before I head into work for a year) and interview with him.

Please say yes mister supervisor.

I don’t have much energy to keep looking.

I am also looking for a therapist.

The first one who was referred to me couldn’t fit me into her schedule.

But she was super helpful and offered to refer me out and I said yes please, of course, I haven’t heard anything else back, but I tried.

I just emailed another therapist tonight too to keep that ball rolling.

I will have to be doing it as part of my program and I have to be doing it while I see clients.

This is good and I am rather looking forward to it.

And frankly.

After two years of studying and training and practicing how to be a therapist I’m ready for a little of that love to be turned back around on me.

In some ways, it has, especially in the actions that I took today and over the last week, in regards to what I can do, how I can take care of myself and what I need to do to take care of myself.

Like.

Not working on my days off.

Ok, yes, I am working that weekend for my current family, but we negotiated easy hours for me, a big break, payment in cash, and I’ll get my meals covered and probably have a fun field trip type day out with the charges.

It will be a fun adventure.

And yes I will be tired, and yes, I will need to be gentle with myself.

Which is also why I said no, to the other two queries, and the best thing about it?

God damn.

It felt like such a win.

I didn’t justify or explain my response.

I said simply in both cases, thank you so much for thinking of me, which is true, but no thank you.

It is nice to be thought of, it is nice to be the type of person that others want you to work for them, that they want you so much that even though they think I probably can’t (both parties said it, it was sweet), they want me bad enough that they’re going to ask either way, just in case.

I was flattered.

And though I felt momentarily guilty about taking care of myself over taking care of others.

I got the fuck over it.

Self-care people.

It really is a thing.

So.

Here’s to me doing some sweet, kind, generous, loving things for myself this weekend.

So that I may be sweet, kind, generous, loving, and caring to those around me.

Now excuse me.

I have to put on my oxygen mask before assisting others to the exit slide.

Heh.

 

 

Moving and Shaking

March 17, 2017

Things are happening.

When aren’t things happening?

Ha.

I have an appointment next Wednesday to speak with a local MFT (Marriage/Family/Therapist)/psychologist about being my off site ICC supervisor for school.

I must have two hours a week supervision as part of my internship process with a licenced therapist who works in a modality that I relate to and want to use while in practicum and who will sign off on my training for school and keep all the important people, like the BBS, Behavioral Board of Sciences, off my back.

I am not stoked about having to work more things into my schedule but I am resigned to it and I am finding that I am ok with what is slowly unfolding.

The never having a life outside of this career path.

I jest a little.  I will have some time, I will make sure I sleep, for instance, but I won’t be having any free time.

Less than I have now, that’s for sure.

Life.

Sometimes it moves so fast and that’s actually what I’m counting on, that the year will whip by and I’ll be graduating and although I will most likely stay at the Liberation Institute to accrue all my hours, I won’t have to be juggling so much.

Of course.

I get away with myself, but I’m just thinking ahead, and reflecting all at the same time, how life changes and things change, people change, I change, and how I feel a much different person than who I was when I started this school program.

I am grateful for this change.

More is on the horizon.

And it is a horizon littered with work and school, that’s for sure.

I’m going to be helping out next weekend for the family as the dad is out of town on a work gig overseas for a week.

The mom and I figured out what she needed to maintain three kids and not lose her mind and also that I not lose my mind either, because I will not have any days off next week and then I will transition right back into my regular hours and then my next weekend of classes.

Yeah.

Like that.

It’s a trade-off of sorts for me.

I will be helping them as they will be helping me.

I was granted my time off request for Burning Man, that’s one of the trade offs, and also, the family will still be paying me for time worked in July when they are on vacation in Europe.

I will not be able to do the traveling that I had hoped for, but I will be properly compensated for my time, I will help out at the house a couple of days and I will do my internship and supervision and, I suspect, a fuck load of yoga and catching up with any socializing that I will have missed the first few months of doing my internship.

I will also, I suspect, make hay while the sun shines and perhaps pick up some extra hours while I can at the internship.

I am feeling a little less nervous about the process and also super grateful for the family and specifically, the mom’s support.

We talked a lot today about what my needs were and whether I was being met with working 35 hours a week when the original deal was 40, for instance, and I was happy to report that after two months of working 35 hours a week I was maintaining my standard of living and did not feel that I needed to be working 40 hours.

And I don’t.

And.

I don’t want to.

Between school commitments and then gearing up for the internship, I won’t want to work more for them, and I expressed such to her.

She was 100% behind me.

We also talked about how I will need a hard leave of 6p.m.

Like I will have to be walking out the door.

She is going to make sure she’s headed back on those days a little early and I will make sure to get dinner on the table by 5:30 p.m. instead of right at 6 as I have been.

It felt so good and adult and co-created with all the family’s needs and my needs and I feel so happy to be with them.

It really is the perfect job for me to be in to support this push through school and I was very glad to express my gratitude to the mom and to let her know that I was very happy with them.

“And us too, we are so happy that you are with us,” she told me today over lunch.

A lunch I had the pleasure of making for her.

I find a lot of delight in cooking for people and that they are European and eat all the yummy stuff is wonderful for me.

I don’t imbibe, but there is jus something so satisfying about cooking with good quality ingredients.

I didn’t make her a fancy lunch, but I made her a nice lunch (nursing mama’s should always have nice lunches!) spinach salad with chopped organic tomatoes, baby mozzarella and a dressing I made accompanied by a thick slice of avocado toast with shaved Gruyère and butter and a sprinkle of sea salt.

She was happy.

I was happy.

It’s a joy.

And I had a really awesome time with the kids today too who didn’t want to see me leave and I got all sorts of amazing hugs and snuggles.

And.

Hey!

Tomorrow’s Friday!

Woot!

I was also reminded, rather harshly, giggles, that I was not there last Friday to pick them up from school since I was in school and since we normally do a special Friday treat, ice cream cones from BiRite after school pick up, that I had to make sure to not only pick them up, but that I should probably make up for my lapse in judgement by making them with sprinkles.

Rainbow sprinkles.

“And Carmen, LOTS OF THEM!”

I promise, kiddo, lots of them indeed.

Happy Friday eve!

I am so ready for the weekend.

Seriously.

 

 


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