Posts Tagged ‘intense’

Big Day

November 7, 2017

I got to work and walked in and sighed.

I already had a super busy day and I was tired before I even walked into the door at work.

Not in a bad way, just in a sort of thrown into unexpected places way and reflecting on what had transpired in the time before I got to work.

Super intense meeting with my supervisor and a lot of deep work around a specific client, who I saw this evening and got to apply all the things that I had worked on with my supervisor.

Which was really fulfilling and also a little exhausting.

And exhilarating too.

I felt like I was really being a good therapist and that my client was making some amazing headway.

I feel better and better the more I get to see my clients and learn about them and those that show up consistently and let me bear witnesses to their growth is really an amazing thing to witness.

At times exhausting, the work is challenging, but as I expressed to my boss today I am so grateful for it.

I didn’t even see my boss until after 4p.m. today, I was at work at the house, picking up my charge from school, and she was off and running her Monday as well.

I think we were both pretty tired from the day, but it was good to connect with her.

She’s great to work for and super flexible with my schedule.

Which is good since I’ll be going in late one more time next Monday.

I’ve been asked to come in again next week to work further on the lecture series, “People Who Usually Don’t Lecture.”

The women that are running the project have a certain vision and they have produced so many of this lecture series they really have a clarity about what needs to come across and what resonates with the audience.

So.

Although all the work I did on the narrative was not for naught, ugh, I still am going to have to re-write it.

I could heavily edit what I wrote, but I think a fresh rewrite with the direction they want from me will make it a far stronger piece.

I have a very clear idea what they want and I know how to write it and I have the opening line in my head so I know where it will go.

Sometimes, most times, all I need is that opening line or thought, the idea opens the door, I walk in and then I start describing what I see, it’s like walking into a warm room with a rag hook rug on the wood floor, a fire burning in a stove, a rocking chair with a soft throw on the arm and a pillow against the back.

I just need to settle into that chair and write what I see on the walls, tell the story in the pictures I see.

There I am running away from home to San Francisco at the ripe age of 29.

What happens.

Here’s a snap shot of DNA Lounge.

Here’s a picture of me in the back patio of The End Up after having been up all weekend.

All the things and crazy dark adventures, a Polaroid on a push pin board.

That time I made out with my best friends boss at The Elbow Room in the photo booth.

And forgot that I had a strip of photos of us kissing.

It fell out of my wallet when I was looking for something, and my friend picked it up.

“Oh my God!  You made out with STEVE!  YOU MADE OUT WITH MY BOSS?!  He’s gay!”

He wasn’t that gay that night.

Here’s another one of a night at Bruno’s on Mission Street, all dressed up for Halloween and getting ready for a night out on the town when my dealer calls and hey, he just got out of 850 Bryant (the jail here in San Francisco) and how much do I want?

Well.

Fuck.

I’ll start with three grams and go from there.

Hung over.

Cracked out.

Dancing at strange parties with strange people and all the misadventures there of.

The producers wanted a little more of the nitty-gritty of my using and then what happened.

I had put too much of an ellipses in the narrative and it made it seem like I did a line of blow and then suddenly got sober.

They wanted to hear more about the despair.

Because.

Well.

Drama.

It gets your attention, and it provides the vehicle to show how far I’ve come, the things I went through, and who I am.

They also wanted me to talk a little bit more about my nannying.

And what it means to work with children.

“Oh, I think I know what you mean,” I said to the woman speaking to me, “that I get to give the kind of love to a child that I never had for myself growing up.”

She teared up.

Yes.

That.

Let me pull your heartstrings.

Let me show you how resilient I am.

It’s not necessarily a drama play, it’s what really happened, but I have ten minutes to cover all the things and they wanted to sharpen certain points for power, so that it lands with the audience and connects them to me and my story.

Whew.

That’s just going to have to sit on the back burner for a little while and percolate.

I have a full client load this week, therapy tomorrow morning before work, group supervision mid-week, when I normally don’t have it until Saturday–but I’ll be in class Saturday so I have to do it this Wednesday, and yeah, that, school, it’s a school weekend.

No wonder I walked into work and already felt exhausted.

Sigh.

It won’t be that bad.

It’s not that bad.

And I am grateful I get to do this project, it is nice to be wanted, it’s nice to know that I have been chosen because I have something powerful to share and that I am someone who knows how deliver a story.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

But the re-write has got to wait until Sunday after I get out of class, I just don’t see getting to it before then.

I still have reading for class I need to attend to, and well, the week full of stuff.

Grateful that I have pockets of respite and some lovely things planned too, that have nothing to do with work and school and clients.

A girl needs a little fun too.

Especially when there’s so much else to attend to.

I need to let myself let loose a little too.

All work and no play makes me a very dull girl.

And I’m so not dull.

Seriously.

I Gave Myself Permission

August 14, 2015

I let myself get into the hot tub and join the party tonight after class.

It was intense.

As I joked with someone just a moment ago via e-mail, the intensive, is well.

Ah.

Intense.

I didn’t stay long.

I knew I wanted to do this, this constant showing up lets me show up elsewhere and I find the strength to continue writing helps me find a grace and peace that I can carry with me while I do the school work.

Truth be told.

I am almost caught up on the reading.

I have more to read, there is that, but I have been carving out little pockets of time during the day.

A half hour before breakfast, fifteen minutes here, fifteen minutes there, a ten minute flip through and skim of an article.

I also have recognized the burying my head in a book is a way of checking out from a social situation that is sometimes challenging for me to navigate.

I mean.

Jesus.

I am at school with 31 other people who I will travel the next three years with and we all want to be therapists.

That’s something.

And being as emotionally available as I have been in some of my classes and showing up for my classmates and trying to carry love and compassion through it all with me, gentleness for myself and for the group.

Sometimes.

I succeed.

Sometimes.

I do not.

However, I keep showing up to class and meals and trying to meet my fellows where they are and also myself.

I was happy coming out of class tonight.

It was extraordinarily challenging and I felt such evocative emotions come up that I just wanted to pat myself on the fucking back for doing the deal and being there in the chair and creating a space, a frame, a working notion of what is happening for me.

A language of the heart.

I suppose is one way of looking at it.

I mean.

I’m getting a Masters in Psychology and I am going to be exploring feelings and emotions and all the feelings and emotions that it elicits from me as well as learning about how to be there and present in a safe way for others too.

I don’t, also, expect that I will get this overnight.

I mean, it’s what day 4.5.

I’m half way through.

The retreat, not the course work.

I’ve only just begun.

There is so much more to discover.

I just felt really content with myself and appreciative that I could let go a little, get in the hot tub a little, sigh a big sigh of relief and let the hot water burble about me.

Someone draped the lights over the communal tub, it’s a big guy, there might have been 15 of us in it and more room was available, and suddenly the stars bloomed and I could see Cassiopea and the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and the Milky Way.

I had left my dorm room last night after my bed time on a brief excursion up the hill to see if I could catch any of the meteor shower.

The Perseid’s meteor shower, which supposedly peaked last night or actually in the very early hours of yesterday morning.

I did not catch any falling stars, the mists came in and there was cloud cover last night.

But.

Tonight.

Oh.

I got one.

I wished for love.

It just came right out of my heart and I sighed loudly, “Oh!” when the star streaked across the horizon.

No one else in the tub saw it and of course, it happened when I had stopped looking for it.

Which is always so much the case for me.

Stop looking, be still, show up to the page and love will be there.

Speaking of love.

I got an e-mail about departure dates to Burning Man and my heart is a little tender about having to be pragmatic, I am obligated to work through the 28th in Glenn Ellen for my family and I don’t want to.

I want to take extra time off and go to Burning Man.

I feel so much internal conflict.

I know I have to sit with it right now, this discomfort and the not knowing.

I can barely see outside of tomorrow’s first class and what that will look like.

And the truth is.

I don’t know what it will look like, I have to share my story at group level and not that I haven’t done that, I have done it so many times that I have lost count, but it is a different focus and a different set of people and I want many things to come across and some not so much and my head gets lost.

So.

I think.

Pause.

Reflect on what I can and can’t do.

But no decision tonight.

I had at least the wherewithal to look at myself having an emotional response to the when can you leave for Burning Man question.

RIGHT NOW!

LETS GO!

FRIENDS ARE ALREADY THERE!

Oh.

Shit.

Wait.

I am still in school and I also have to work and I used my week’s vacation to do this retreat and I’m using the rest of my sick leave to do Burning Man and I can’t ask off for extra days.

Or.

Can I?

I really want to.

I can feel that intense desire to go as soon as possible to not be present with my job, to get out of fucking dodge.

I want it so bad.

I want.

I want.

I want.

Ah desire.

Shush.

Breathe.

Let it go.

Nothing need be decided tonight.

And what if I asked to get out of work two days early?

My employers could dock my pay.

What would it look like to ask?

They could dock my pay and pay somebody else.

They could say no.

They could say yes.

They have a nanny service in Sonoma they use on the weekend when I am not there.

Can I allow myself that vulnerability to ask for what I want?

I mean it might even be a good exercise for me to ask just to see what happens.

Maybe.

All I know right now is that I am conflicted and don’t know what to do.

So pause and wait.

Sleep on it.

Love.

Love is what I wished for and I want to love myself enough to honor everything that is happening with me and to come to a place where I can express that and be for myself no matter what.

Because just in this space, just with this writing I can see that I am afraid of asking because I am afraid of judgement from my employers and that the answer will be no.

And so what if it is?

What would happen?

How to make a decision that is fair and just and right.

For me.

Not for the job.

Not for the people I am camping with.

Just for me.

More will be revealed.

But for now.

I wished upon a star.

And I suspect.

I will get my heart’s desire.

I usually do.

Although it never looks like how I think it’s going to look.

That’s ok too.

I’m open to the possibilities.

It’s a vast universe.

This love.

I suspect there is more of it for me to experience.

Good night my darlings.

I will see you tomorrow.

Sweet dreams.

Be they dusty or otherwise.


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