Posts Tagged ‘showing up’

Almost Got It

June 10, 2017

I thought I was social media dark on my blog last night when I posted.

Except.

Ha.

I was still linked to Twitter.

Figured it out pretty quick, went and deleted off Twitter, and it didn’t link to Facecrack and now, well, I’ve disconnected any sharing on the blog.

It’s just you and me and a couple of friends.

Shhhh.

Part of me want to let out some big scary secret.

But there’s no big scary thing to let out of the bag.

I am a pretty happy lady.

I had today off.

What?

I know.

A Friday.

Off.

My family that I work for is still super sick and I got the message last night after I logged off my blog that they thought it better for me to take off today as well and they’d see me Monday.

I have to say I was sorry for them, but also so grateful, I really don’t know what I would have done had I gotten a severe flu bug.

I hate vomiting.

I mean really bad.

So I’ll happily take my pass and take the day off.

I didn’t sleep in, I got up and went to an early yoga class.

But after that I did take a really mellow day for myself.

I balanced the check book, paid the phone bill, did lots of writing, got in some laundry.

Then I scooted over to Nordstrom Rack and spent a lot of time trying on clothes that didn’t work for me.

I had some high hopes, but the retail therapy was not to be had.

Then again, it wasn’t a total loss, I got a bra, two tank tops, two pairs of panties, some body lotion and some mascara.

It was worth the trip, just to pick up a couple of staples.

Sure.

I had hoped for a new summery dress or maybe a pair of pretty shoes, but fact is, I have bought myself some nice things recently and I don’t really need to do more shopping.

I was looking for something to keep my brain occupied.

It turns out that a woman I have been working with for the past three and a half years is no longer available to work with me and we had a long talk on the phone as I stood by my scooter in the parking lot at Nordstrom Rack.

The blue sky coming through the sky light, the cars parking, the sound of a shopping cart going by and someone who loves me saying, I have loved working with you but it’s time for you to find someone else.

I have never been let go quite like this.

In fact.

I have never been let go.

I have always been the one to find another person to work with.

It was definitely an experience.

Now.

The funny thing is, not funny haha, but interesting, odd, is it odd?

Or God?

I think.

Well.

I believe.

It was God.

As I have prayed a lot over the last week about the relationship.

Something was said to me last week when we met that hurt my feelings deeply and though there was some repair in the moment when she realized how hurt I was, there was still an underlying wounding that I carried with me for days.

I just didn’t know what to make of it.

It came out in my therapy session Tuesday morning.

And.

Well.

Yes.

As a matter of fact.

I bawled my damn eyes out.

Then I worked through it.

Then.

Later that day when I was checking in with someone else.

I got mad.

I mean.

ANGRY.

I was yelling cunt in a church courtyard, so yeah, maybe livid might even be an emotional marker.

I did calm down.

I did write a lot of inventory.

Then I sat on it for a couple of days and really just let myself calm the fuck down.

Thank God for getting to yoga three times in a row this week.

Totally took the edge off.

That praying and writing and more writing and then I did it.

I called, left a message, said what I was feeling and let go of the results.

The results?

I was let go.

And I have no regrets.

Not a one.

I was honest and I know that there was no bitterness in the parting and I’m grateful for the time we got to work together and I’m grateful that I get to have a new experience with another person.

Before it was happening I had felt this dread and sadness and overwhelm, how the fuck am I going to find another person to work with?

I’m too busy.

But.

When it happened.

I knew that it was right.

And I knew that I wasn’t being dropped.

If anything it was God doing for me what I could not do for myself.

I get to have a new experience with a new person and I will get to grow and find out new things and have a new perspective and until that person comes into my life, I’m held by my community and I am not worried.

I am loved.

I am enough.

And I learned a lot.

Some of which I can’t share here as it’s just not my place.

But.

Suffice to say there was deep learning here.

And a deep gratitude for my community and for the people I talked to over the last few days and today and for feeling held and loved and having that love reflected back to me.

I know that I’m still going to have some feelings.

Abandonment.

Not lovable.

Not enough.

Yada, yada, yada.

Victim.

Martyr.

But.

They will pass.

And I will come out the other side stronger and better and more graceful.

Whenever God has “taken” something or someone from me I have been given the gift that he was waiting to put into my hands but I was too busy holding onto something that didn’t work out of some misplaced idea that I could fix it and make it better.

Not realizing God had the solution right in front of me.

My hands are empty.

I am now able to receive.

My heart is ready.

I will walk through this.

I have to.

There is not another choice.

There is only the present.

And all the gifts inherent.

I am loved.

And that is enough.

It always is.

You’re Killing Me

April 24, 2017

WordPress You’re Fucking Killing Me       *This blog written 4/23/17 while WordPress site was down.

 

I just want to write my heart out after having written 25 pages of academic writing over the last two days all I want to do is free associate my ass off and yet, again, you foil me.

My site is still inaccessible.

Sad face.

At least I found out the reason why, the site did an update to work out “some bugs” and that happened on, yes, of course, 4/20 (hmm, who was smoking the doper that day) when I was trying to post up my poetry post.

It’s the fucking 23rd and I still can’t write posts on the site.

It’s annoying and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I was able to leave a comment on the WordPress Facebook page, amongst 100s of others that I was not able to access my blog and hopefully they will get it worked out tomorrow.

I mean.

I have a big ass week ahead of me.

I have just begun the work, or so it feels, the work is always happening.

I told myself, well, I wrote to myself this morning about the work and how it would get done and that I was going to be ok and I could write the damn paper, even though it feels like all I did yesterday was work on the paper, but that was the transcription.

I reasoned with myself as I sat and did my Morning Pages that whatever happened I was ok today and was going to be ok.

I quickly listed all the things I had already done that morning—yoga, abstinent, healthy, organic breakfast, washed my dishes, took a shower, made a latte, I had prayed and made my bed, I was writing my pages, I was ok.

Further.

I was going to meet with a ladybug today and do some reading with her at a café and I had a speaking engagement that I was going to do at 4p.m.

The paper was going to get done and I would be ok.

I go through the same emotional shit every time I write a paper, at least I recognize the pattern and I do the work anyway.

In fact.

Once I was into the paper writing, after another quick prayer and putting away my dishes (got to have a clean house to write a paper), it went so swimmingly that I was startled when my alarm went off letting me know I had to head out the door to the Church Street Café in the Castro at Church and Market.

Shit!

I am almost done!

But I was ok with that, I had maybe another page to write and I was well aware that I could do that when I got home, which, of course, I did.

I was super grateful to get out of the house and to sit in a café and not talk about school stuff, oh a little snuck in, but it wasn’t too bad.

The focus was on recovery and the conversation on the reading.

Grateful.

I got to go do the deal shortly thereafter and I got the nicest compliment after speaking from someone who has seen me from the very start, I mean day one.

“Is it just me, or have you dropped your defenses a bit more?” He asked while giving me a very big hug.

“Yes,” I smiled.

“It is lovely to see,” he smiled back and walked away.

I remember him telling me years ago how defended I was and I had absolutely no clue what the fuck he was talking about.

It has taken me a long time to soften, to sweeten, to let you in.

The walls they go up now and again, but for the most part, I see that I have relaxed my vigilance and I am much more vulnerable than I was, especially in the beginning of my recovery.

I still have so far to go, but I feel it, this easing of my defenses and it is a comfort, it has been “sometimes slowly” my entire recovery and in hindsight, fucking thank god.

I also realize my tolerance for pain is much lower, my threshold will not withstand the shenanigans I used to do to keep people at arms length.

Eventually my arms got tired and I dropped them.

Only to receive more love than I could have ever imagined.

It is lovely.

Lovely to have that experience, and then hop on my scooter come home and throw a chicken in the oven and let it roast up while I was finishing my paper.

14 pages.

I finished the one page that it needed to wrap it up, proofed it, edited it, made sure I had all the important stuff the teacher wanted for it, including the correct e-mail to send to the paper to.

And voila!

It’s off into the ether and I’m done with it.

So grateful.

Super fucking grateful.

I still have two more papers I have to do.

I have cued up the next thing I need to do, listen a second time to a two hour podcast on This American Life that I will be basing my Trauma paper on, on my phone, so I can listen to it at work (although not when the little guys are home from school, not appropriate listening for them by far) and I know, know very well, that I am in it for the next week and a half.

Next weekend I will have to finish two papers.

One I will write on Saturday and one I will write on Sunday.

And then it will be done.

One more big fucking push.

And tomorrow I start supervision.

I will basically have started summer school before the spring semester has finished.

Rolls eyes.

No break for me.

Well.

Ha.

Paris.

Oh, Paris, I cannot wait.

Yesterday I wore a pair of tights I bought in the Marais the last time I was there as an incentive to get me working on the paper.

Today I wore a dress I plan on strolling the streets in.

I also have loaded Paris weather on my phone and I have been checking that.

It’s getting warmer, 70s predicted for next week.

One paper closer.

I am getting there.

Two to go.

I can do this.

I can.

Paris.

I will see you soon.

Je t’aime trop.

 

Surprisingly Together

April 8, 2017

And well grounded.

I don’t even feel all that tired.

Which is sort of shocking, considering that I just got back from doing an 11 hour school day.

I was prepared though and able to carry through with all the things that needed to be attended to and I did some good self-care, got up early, took a nice hot shower before breakfast, made a nice unsweetened vanilla coconut/almond milk latte, I rode the MUNI into class, rain, and connected with all my sweet friends.

I also feel that there was a distinct shift for me in being able to focus on the classes and material as I have all my practicum stuff nailed down, I don’t have any anxiety about trying to make it all happen.

It all happened.

I’m registered and all my paperwork is signed.

It’s like walking the plank with my eyes wide open.

I have started the journey and I have no clue exactly what I am about to leap into, but I am on the way to leaping.

I have a few weeks of “freedom” haahahaha, that’s funny, (final projects, papers, and one more weekend of class) before I have to start supervision, and about a month and a half before I start at my internship.

I will have Paris before that.

Although, it does now look like I won’t be in the Marais, my friend’s house had some unexpected water damage and there will be construction happening.

I will be staying with a friend of hers in the 10th.

This is going to be a new one, but not that new, I’ve done Air BnB before when traveling, I’ll be staying with someone new, but he’s in a great location and he’s a dear friend of my friend and frankly anyone who is her close friend is going to be a good friend of mine.

I have nothing to complain about, I get to stay somewhere free in Paris.

That is a huge gift.

She is a huge gift in my life.

I am so grateful for her and for my other friends that I reconnected with today.

There were lots and lots and lots of hugs.

Some tears too.

Life happens and it’s hard and we all showed up for each other in some pretty spectacular ways today, I felt honored and privileged to be a part of the cohort and happy to be seen by my friends.

I also got some extraordinary remarks, comments and feedback on a paper I wrote from my professor who I hold in most highest esteem, her opinion of me and my abilities means a lot to me.

I know I’ve got her up on a pedestal, but she really is an amazing teacher and I needed an amazing teacher to be able to do the work that is required for doing trauma work.

“I suppose you learn a lot about yourself,” my driver said to me tonight as we chit chatted about my program.

Folks often have this idea that I’m headed out to some party or some fun Friday night thing but no, I’m just going home after doing 11 hours of school, which leads to a conversation about what I am studying.

My driver asked me so many questions and it was really fun to share some of the things that I am learning and practicing and I could also tell he was trying to get, “Just asking for a friend,” information about whether I thought Couples Therapy had any efficacy.

I basically gave him a session on the ride home.

It was like Taxi Cab Confessionals except from the passengers purview.

It also let me realize, in the telling, that I know a lot more than I even realize and that I can disseminate the material well enough to a lay person to make concepts clear and ideas and it was sort of cool to just let myself talk and hear the theories fall out of my mouth.

I really had a moment of being, “who is this person talking?”

And it was me.

I am sure I will have my doubts and troubles, my anxieties and fears, but I feel that I have come a really big way and I feel like I can see myself being able to take on clients.

I can do this.

I really can.

And.

I am going to be good at it.

God damn it’s nice to find my niche, to know where I am most needed to fit myself to be of maximum service, to know I can be of help and do well by myself as well.

There is life long learning as well.

I appreciate that.

I will keep growing.

I will keep getting to find out and experience different things.

There will always be books to read, articles to write, experiences to be had, I have such a full rich life, this work only adds a deeper complexion and color to a glass that is full to overflowing with love and experience.

Grateful.

That is where I stand.

In a place of deep gratitude.

And I always could see more softening in me, more resilience, and more acceptance of myself, where I am in the program and where I can ease up a little, in the classroom and in my interactions with other students in the cohort.

We are a pretty incredible bunch and I’m super lucky to get to learn from them as well as my teachers.

All the learning.

It’s amazing.

I am so grateful that I am allowing it to keep happening, to keep engaging, to keep growing, to keep pushing at the edges of boundaries and seeing what else and where else I can grow.

Yes.

Growth is painful.

But as they say, “pain is the touchstone of spiritual growth.”

I have had some growth spurts this year, and it’s only April.

Leaning into.

Learning to love myself more.

Doing the deal.

And showing up.

That’s pretty much it for today’s check-in.

Off to get some more sleep than I did last night.

So.

I can get up.

And.

Do it all over again.

Softly Resigned

April 7, 2017

I am so up past my bedtime.

Well.

In three minutes, I will be up past my bedtime.

For a school weekend start.

But.

I had such a lovely meal with one of my dearest friends from school that I really don’t care that I will be tired tomorrow.

Sure.

I could skip writing my blog and throw myself into bed, I could skip my cup of tea and my apple at the end of the day with a little bit of a video, but I don’t believe that I would actually go to sleep.

I would toss and turn and the days events, though not earth-shaking, would spend too much time in my brain getting sorted.

I would rather take the time to unwind and put away my laundry and pack my lunch and dinner and make sure my school books and notebooks are ready to go.

I am a good school girl.

I recieved an e-mail earlier from one of my professors saying I was a “prized student” that I have “intellectual rigor” and a few other choice bon mots which are almost too kind to print here.

I was asking said professor for therapist referral as I need to have therapy in order to graduate my program.

Suffice to say, I am happy with my choice and grateful that I have started moving forward with her.

Never the less it was a great kindness for my teacher to get back to me and tell me how she had really thought about who might work for me and my creative sensibilities, empathy, and caring, and the other nice things I wrote above.

I was so freaking touched.

I am still.

I am actually quite intrigued by the people she recommended and I might try to reach out to them as well, though, truth be told, I am feeling I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

Regardless.

I will be thanking her when I see her tomorrow morning.

And I will quietly bask in the glow of her compliments.

I will also not give to much of a fuck about showing up tomorrow perfectly prepared.

I mean.

I am prepared, I have done all the reading and then some, but I am sort of over the semester, I am tired, the getting the internship stuff worked out took up so much time and effort that I don’t have much focus on the school material.

One of my classes I still feel very much engaged with, Trauma, but my other two, I’m just not feeling excited about, I did the prep work, I know what I’m bringing, but it’s not excitement, it is rather a sort of trudging, just get through the class which can be tiring to do.

Ah well.

In reality.

It’s always the same way, the night before a weekend of classes, trying to have it all organized and work out so that I can show up and be in maximum learning capabilities.

That’s just how I am.

I am trying to be easier on myself and to relax a little more and take opportunities, like I did tonight, to see my friends and to not take it all so damn seriously.

Not take myself so damn seriously.

And acknowledge.

Today was day eleven in a row of work.

I have not had a day off in eleven days and now I’m about to go into 29 hours of school in the next three days.

I am tired thinking about it.

So a little laissez faire attitude seems pretty much on point.

Just showing up will be the important thing.

It always is, the showing up.

I get a lot of things done by just doing that.

Show up to work.

Show up to the page.

Show up to school.

Show up for my recovery.

Actions.

Not thinking.

Acting.

Acting as if.

Taking action.

Doing the next thing in front of me and not putting so much emphasis on the big picture.

The big picture is made out of tiny, minute to minute, moment to moment, lights of brightness, like a pointillist painting, each tiny action an exquisite moment of beauty in a huge masterwork of art.

I remember the first time I saw a Georges Seurat painting in real life and how enormous it was.

All the detail.

So much that was attended to.

A Sunday On La Grand Jatte.

The picnic painting with the woman holding the black parasol the picnickers in the grass, the minute attention to light and how it plays on figures, the colors and the shifting movement created by the small dabs of paint.

Extraordinary.

I think of that.

My life as an exquisite corpse of moments brought before me in this now, in this reality, showing me all the hows and ways and minute actions that I took to get from point “a” to point “b”.

If I were to look at the overarching thematic maybe I could get it.

But I would get lost in the details, stuck in the bend of an elbow in the curl of a cowlick, in the shape of a leaf on a tree, in getting just the right color on her cheek.

I can’t focus on the big things.

I have goals, yes, of course, but I have to take them in tiny, small, manageable little bits.

I can’t do the whole painting in one session.

Nor can I live my life from that perspective.

I rather choose to see the infinite beauty in the every day actions that I constantly take that add up to me, this magnum opus.

Just.

A.

Small.

Tour de force.

And like that.

I am ready for the next action in front of me.

Tea.

Apple.

Bed.

Sweet dreams my loves.

Sweetest dreams.

 

Wanted Woman

April 5, 2017

I got a text today after coming out of my second therapy session, went great, thanks, in regards to some services that someone wanted.

Specifically.

My former employer wanted to know if I could be available to cook for them every few Sundays.

Um.

Uh.

No.

Then my head was like, but it would be great to see the boys and I could make some extra money, and…

Fuck off head.

You are not working on your day off.

NO.

NOPE.

Not going to do it, there really is nothing that I could ask for that would compensate me enough to go into work on a Sunday.

I work 35 hours a week.

Go to graduate school full-time.

Meet with three people on a weekly basis for doing the deal.

Go to do the deal 6-7 times a week.

Plus.

In May I’ll star an internship that will be an additional 15 hours.

May is next month.

The last thing I want to do is spoil the few remaining Sundays I do have off.

And when my internship starts, I will only have Sundays off.

For a year.

One day off a week.

That’s it.

I’m not going to go to my former bosses house and make food.

Not going to do it.

Just saying.

Although, truth be told, I was hella flattered.

It’s nice to know that you are wanted.

I have actually said no a lot lately.

No to some baby sitting gigs.

Two specifically that come to mind, no to this idea of working on my day off and cooking.

No, thank you for thinking of me, but no.

Funny thing too, is how often I get this, “I know you’re busy, I know this is a long shot, but….”

Yup.

I am busy.

And yes, it is a long shot, and nope, still can’t do it.

I have also been asked by three different people to read their writing.

I know I write a blog every day and I write morning pages and I want to be able to read every thing that is sent to me, because that’s what good writers do, they also read, but I’ve got so much reading for school I haven’t even touched the two pieces that were sent to me an there’s a third heading towards my mailbox.

Maybe I’ll read them next year.

Bwahahahaha.

What I am recognizing though, is that I am sought after for my skills and as such, I’m really flattered, it’s nice to be thought of, it’s nice that people want me to weigh in on their writing.

I believe it means that folks think I might have some skills and something to offer.

I was asked last week about writing a blog and what tips I had.

I gave loads of tips.

But basically it comes down to, just write it.

Sit down.

Do the work.

There is, however, only so much work I can do, and as I am on day 9 in a row of working with out a day off, I might have an idea of how precious my time off is.

I have two days coming up, April 10th and 11th, next Monday and Tuesday.

I have to get through two more days of work and three days of school.

Then.

Freedom.

I couldn’t fathom picking up more work right now.

There was a time when I would have, the allure of the extra money is big, but really, I want to have a full rounded life.

I want to have some fun and I want to have a tiny little bit of social life.

I also want to have rest and I want to be able to do yoga.

I have to keep tabs on myself and my self-care, I can’t show up to work or school or my soon to be happening internship if I’m not taking care of myself.

It’s an ethical issue.

It really is.

So I was proud of myself for saying I was unavailable.

I responded with kindness and acumen.

I was nice, I’m saying.

And that felt good too.

People will ask for what they want, and they’re allowed to ask, but I don’t have to people please and say yes to everything that is offered.

I believe that something better than money will happen for me on my Sunday if I’m not busy literally slaving over a hot stove.

God wants more for me than that.

Dating.

Friends.

Life.

Adventures.

Rest.

Recuperation.

All the things.

Not cooking all the things.

Anyway.

I am looking forward to school this weekend, even though my school days are long days, longer than my work days, they are days filled with thinking and showing up and learning and friends.

I am really excited to see my friends.

I have missed them.

I have some catching up to do.

Yes, I do.

The only thing I get bummed about, who would have thought it, is missing yoga on Saturday and Sunday.

Although I may try to sneak in a restorative yoga class Sunday after I get out of classes.

That is a good possibility.

I’m sad to miss my favorite teachers class on Saturday, but so be it.

As long as I can try to get into a Monday class in the morning, I will be making up for the loss of class on Saturday.

I get a head of myself

Let me stay in this week, where, yes, it is full, but there’s wiggle room here and there.

A coffee with a friend.

Catching up with my fellows tomorrow night.

Wrapping up the last bits and pieces of my school preparations.

Doing a little laundry.

And yes.

Chilling out a bit.

Like right now.

A cup of tea.

A video.

A snack.

And bed.

Sounds just about perfect.

No more cooking today.

No soup for you!

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.

Things Falling

March 22, 2017

Into place.

I am not nearly as anxious this Tuesday as I was last Tuesday.

Last Tuesday, which seems so far away, but was truly just a week ago, I was in a high state of panic and anxiety most of the day.

Today.

Well.

Not so much.

I thought about it at one point.

I should get anxious!

Really?

That’s your solution?

Get anxious.

Nah.

Did that all day last Tuesday, the thought was fleeting and I was glad to let it go.

Then again, I was also quite busy at work attending to all the things that I wasn’t able to yesterday since the kids had a day off from school.

I was pretty much on the go from the minute I got to work up until the minute I left for work.

Which left little time for anxiety.

I also, thank you to the office of the practicum placement team, got a lot of relief yesterday.

I had a big outstanding question in regards to my supervision for the internship.

Because I am not going through the ICC’s (Integral Counseling Center) I have to an off site supervisor, so my need to skip doing the ICC’s because I needed to have flexibility with my work schedule also presented me with an additional logistic–finding an independent supervisor that was willing to take me on with my weirdo schedule.

The school made a big list of supervisors available to us, but I have to say I was a little dismayed to get a lot of “sorry, I’m not taking on supervisees right now.” when I was making my first rounds of inquiry.

The person whom I’m meeting with tomorrow also was not 100% on board, but he asked what my schedule allowed for and as it turned out, serendipitously, he has a current supervisee who will be leaving him at the same time that I am needing to start, and the time he has available would be work for my schedule, I would go in to see him before I go to work on Monday mornings.

Monday, FYI, which is already a hard day, hello, it’s Monday, is shaping up to be a twelve-hour day.

Two hours off site supervision, seven hours of work, two and a half hours of internship.

9 a.m.-9 p.m.

Yeehaw.

I won’t be starting it all at the same time, however, there will be some breathing space to get used to the additional hours.

IF the supervisor tomorrow takes me on, pretty fucking please, I’ll start an official summer class of two credits Monday, April 24th.

I don’t actually start my internship until Monday, May 22nd.

I’ll be in school until the weekend May 5-7th and then I’ll be in Paris May 11th-May 21st.

Yes, that’s correct, I will start my internship the Monday after I get back from ten days in Paris.

Le sigh.

However, I’ll be starting soft and slow, I probably won’t take on a client that first week.

I get ahead of myself.

All I have to do next is show up tomorrow and be my best self.

I’m not crazy about the fact that the weather is supposed to be shit, I won’t be able to ride my scooter into the interview, but hey, that’s what car share apps are for.

I just have to make sure I give myself enough time to get there and be sorted out.

He made it very clear that I was to be in the office waiting room by 9:30 a.m.

Not buzzing to get in, but actually in the waiting room by 9:30 a.m.

Which is not on the first floor of the building, so I want to be there in a timely manner, give myself a little leeway, a little breathing space, a little moment to pause, pray, and let go, to remember that showing up is the biggest action I can take and that the rest of it will follow.

If he accepts me I have the paperwork ready to be signed and then I can get his signatures and proceed to the next part, which is to take that paperwork to my academic advisor and to the head of the department for their signatures.

Lucky for me, the head of the department and my advisor are the same person.

Once he signs it I can take it to the papers, there’s a lot of them, to the practicum office and hand it over to the woman who so kindly called me to respond to the e-mail question I had.

“You get those signatures from _________ and _________ and I will personally walk it all over to the registrars office for you.”

Thank God.

I can’t wait to have this part of it behind me.

I know there’s so much more to go, this is just one small moving part of a whole machine, a machine that feels super complicated and monstrous and big and behemoth, but it’s doable if I just do a tiny little bit every day.

Some days.

Like tomorrow.

The small bit is actually a bit bigger, but in the end it really is just going to meet a person at 9:30 a.m. on Fell Street in Hayes Valley.

Which, I have to say, is nice place for me to be in supervision, it is easy for me to get to and I know the neighborhood and I’ll b able to do my work commute from there fairly quick.

Plus, there’s good coffee in the neighborhood–Ritual, Blue bottle–always a plus.

It feels really nice to not be so stressed out.

I am super glad the anxiety has faded away and though there is a lot to do, I can feel that I am making progress and the unknown is not so scary now that I have a tiny bit better of a grasp on what I need to do next.

I remind myself that I have only this 24 hours and all the things that needed to get done got done.

I’m happy, I’m healthy, I saw people I love today, I took good care of my charges, and made their dinner and got super big hugs and appreciative compliments about my cooking from both of the kids.

Which is a big deal.

And I know what is just next in front of me.

And that’s all I need to know.

Take the next action in front of me.

Let go of the results.

Easy.

Heh.

 

That Was Fun

March 19, 2017

And it didn’t kill me.

It was just tacos.

And I don’t like tacos.

But.

I went anyway.

I know, did you read that, I don’t like tacos.

Who doesn’t like tacos for fucks sake?

I love tacos, people, love them, rub those greasy soft tortilla wrap things all over my naked body, smear me with guacamole and sour cream, drape me in cheese.

And then watch me binge out on all the other things that I would be eating if I decided to eat something that I refrain from for my abstinence.

I was laughing with a friend.

Like anything with sugar.

“You can’t just have one piece?”

(or one beer or one shot or one line)

No.

Chocolate cake would eventually go something like this–one piece of chocolate cake, becomes two pieces, becomes, let’s eat the whole damn thing, and have a big glass of milk and since nothing is better after a “meal” let’s have a cigarette and fuck since I’m smoking I might as well have a cocktail and if I’m going to have a cocktail let’s call my dealer and get a bag of blow.

And.

Well.

There it is.

Chocolate cake equals cocaine.

You think I jest.

But that is my truth.

So no tacos for me.

I had the taco salad without the taco.

Fuck.

I had Mexican food twice today, that was not planned.

Much of today was not planned, on purpose, I wanted to leave some space to be free to actually have a day off and be flexible.

I did get up and do yoga, my arms are a little sore, but not too bad.

I had a nice leisurely breakfast and took a hot shower and went to meet up with my person and do the deal and cry a bit about being overwhelmed with the internship stuff and school and practicum and stuff and life.

She slowed me down, and really helped me get into the present, into today, into the joy of living and admonished me to have fun, which she actually does a lot now that I am thinking about it, she often tells me to have fun, and I decided to take her suggestion and see if I could have fun.

It wasn’t always easy today, I can get stuck trying to make things happen, but I just tried to let myself go with the flow and show up where I was supposed to be and after that see what happens.

What happened was a nice lunch, a manicure and a pedicure and then a scooter ride over to Waller and Stanyan to Free Gold Watch to play pinball.

I actually got sore wrists from playing.

Hehe.

Does any one get carpal tunnel syndrome from pinball?

I might have today.

I played my favorite, The Addams Family, and also I played The Twilight Zone a lot.

Then I zipped over to Turk and Divisadero, got right with God, made a confession at group level about being wildly adverse to fellowship and needing to do it and supposedly having to have fun and I don’t want to eat tacos.

And I got merry hell from my friends and ended up going out to some taqueria on Divisadero with a crew of people and hanging out until there was no one left to hang out with.

Got to love it when I take suggestions.

I don’t regret them ever.

Oh, sure it’s uncomfortable, social stuff is, being vulnerable, letting people see you, but I have community and as I do ramp up with all the school stuff I really am trying to keep my toe in the pool, maybe even sit on the steps and get a little submerged.

I remind myself, hey you, you like to swim, don’t be afraid.

And I will be afraid and that’s ok, but I don’t have to let the fear run the show.

It did a lot early in the week when I was freaking out about my schedule and meeting with my site director and setting up what my internship was going to look like.

I was anxious and in so much fear.

It was unnecessary, it was unpleasant and I just got spun out.

Anxiety is useless.

It’s worrying about the future and trying to worry so hard that I have all the fretting out-of-the-way before the actual event happens as a way to control the uncertainty of the event.

I want to be in control because if I don’t know what’s going to happen, something really bad might happen.

So I find myself pre-emptive and I fret.

God, how I fret.

And you wonder how it was that I was diagnosed with clinical anxiety ten years ago.

Yeah.

I had no clue that was what was going on with me.

It’s always been there, I just hadn’t the vocabulary to describe what was happening, or the knowledge that it wasn’t normal, or that there were things I could do to alleviate it.

Or that, I don’t know the horrific shit show of things that happened to me as a child were traumatic and might have long-lasting effects, like, um, I don’t know, being scared to be out of control of my environment because something bad this was coming.

Anxiety?

Nope.

Not me.

Bwahahahahaaha.

Fuck.

Grad school has definitely stirred that pot, from working with the stuff that comes up for me, working through a lot of it, processing, training myself, learning how to deal with my emotions, finding things that stir me up, realizing how things land in my body and how my body is affected.

All sorts of things.

I am super grateful for all the things and the getting to work through them and not have “death by tacos” and hanging out and getting connected with a group of pretty awesome, talented, kind, cool, smart folks.

In other words.

I had fun.

Mission accomplished.

 

Look At You

March 11, 2017

Beautiful!

“I miss you and your flowers,” she finished and gave me a big hug, “make sure and spread your love around we need it.”

That was a very nice way to end the first day of my three-day weekend of classes.

A big love hug from one of my favorite professors.

It was really good to see her and also to just take a moment to reflect on how far I have come.

It was about two years ago this month that I found out I had been accepted into the Masters program where I am at.

So much has changed for me from making that decision and following it up with some actions.

Actions that often felt tiny, small, inconsequential but ended up leading me here, now, in my second semester of my second year of a three-year Masters of Psychology program.

Not too bad.

Not too bad at all.

And so much of the work has been showing up with faith in the process.

I’m still not 100% sure what I am going to do, but I have so much more clarity and I have direction and I have, now,  a couple of years of doing the work under my belt and I know that I can do the work, which is huge.

It’s also exhausting.

I am tired.

I mean.

Tired.

Sometimes the transition is a challenge, the one where I am getting up an hour and a half earlier than I do on the weekdays, the one in which I skip having a weekend off, the one in which I have to show up, suit up, and participate, instead of sleeping in.

I got an adorable text from a friend in regards to it being the weekend and Friday and I laughed.

Which is better than bursting into tears, my Friday is more like a hard-core 11 hour Monday after working a full week of work.

Followed by another eleven hour day and then a seven hour day and then it’s Monday again and I get to go back to work.

Fuck.

I’m tired thinking about it.

I always make it through.

Some of that time I am more caffeinated, but I had to cut it out after a certain point today otherwise my brain would be up half the night attempting to process all the stuff that I went through during the day in class.

And I went through a lot of stuff.

I’m actually doing work now.

Sigh.

Ugh.

Turns out I missed a podcast that I needed to listen to for my Trauma class.

So.

Yeah.

Homework on the weekend I thought I had it all done.

Oh well.

So it goes.

It’s an interesting podcast, there is that.

I just want to finish my tea and watch an episode of America’s Next Top Model.

Shh.

Don’t tell.

I mean I would like to wind down, but I also know that I am trying to balance it all out and be present and have done the work and yada, yada, yada.

I am glad though, to be in class, to see my cohort, see my friend, have an impromptu lunch at a sushi spot with a friend in the program.

Good to connect and reconnect.

I got to see people I care about and love.

To know that I have another community of people to connect with is a great deal to me that I was never expecting to get out of the program.

An extra unexpected gift.

The friendships, the hugs, the conversations, the people who have expressed their affection for me and for my journey.

It is a blessing.

I’m excited for all of us, for the path being travelled that we are on, oh, I know, our paths will fork and people will change and go on their different ways, but we have this time together, these three years and it is an incredible experience.

Nope.

I don’t always want to be vulnerable, I don’t want to process, but I do, I grow, I change, and as I turned down a few invitations to do things this evening, I know that I was doing the thing that was going to best take care of me in my person and show up for class as rested and as ready to participate and share my experiences.

The relevant ones.

Sometimes I don’t share, sometimes the gory details are shined up a bit, but really I am pretty clear about who I am and where I have been and, now, where I hope to move towards.

It’s been an opening of a new part of me.

I am appreciative and honored and sometimes.

Well.

Yes.

Tired.

But.

Here’s to working a little extra, doing a tiny bit more, taking one more little step towards that goal.

I don’t need to know where the end goal is.

Oh.

And look at that.

Podcast done.

Blog almost done.

Ready for a spot of tea and then.

Yes.

Some rest.

So I can get up and do it all over again tomorrow.

See you on the flip.

Where.

I will be.

Ready to teeter totter a few more baby, albeit tired, steps down the road.

 

Hello Monday

February 28, 2017

Let’s be friends.

Today was not a bad day to start the week.

It was sunny.

Hello.

No rain.

So grateful to ride my scooter to and from work, such a gift.

I heard someone complaining, “yeah, it’s sunny, but it’s freezing.”

Shut the fuck up bitch.

It’s NOT raining.

I will take sunny and cold over rain any damn day.

Grateful the drought is finally over, but I think we are amply replenished and the weather can just give it a rest for a minute.

Plus.

I had a really nice leisurely morning with no homework.

I got it done this past weekend, the reading, so my normal go to reading time I spent on doing some extra personal writing and yes, I cleaned the house before I left for work, clean bathroom, clean kitchen, swept the floors.

It was super nice to come home to.

I came home to some nice roast chicken dinner too.

Very glad I had done the food prep this weekend, it was super easy to come home, peel a couple of carrots to nosh on and heat up my turmeric and garlic brown rice and a roast chicken breast and have a hot, homemade dinner.

I love self-care.

I’ve gotten better and better at it.

From going to the dentist and paying for it all up front.

To paying my rent and utilities early for March.

To going to yoga.

To having extra boxes of my favorite tea in the house.

To lighting up the candles when I get home.

It really helps me to be able to navigate the world with kindness and love when I have first taken care of myself.

And I needed that good self-care today.

Both my charges were home.

I had expected that they would be in school, ski week vacation is over and school is back in.

But.

It was grandma’s last day before flying back home so both of the older kids stayed home to see her off.

We had a very sweet day.

Built a Lego model, colored, watched a Cat in The Hat video, and read a lot of books.

I also cooked lunch and dinner for them.

I love cooking.

It is such a nice thing that it is part of my job.

Tonight for dinner I made sautéed ground chicken with onions and garlic in a rosemary infused bechamel sauce and served it over penne pasta.   I made a side of regular mac and cheese, albeit the fancy kind for the kids, as well as maple and soy glazed Julienne carrots and zucchini.

“Carmen!  You are the best cooker ever!” My little lady charge told me, “it is so yummy!”

She likes to sit with me when I have my lunch and nibble whatever I’m having as well as her own meals.

It’s rather endearing.

“More of the corn,” she told me today with these big saucer blue eyes full of merriment and mischievousness.

I was eating a bowl of homemade chicken soup with brown rice and vegetables.

“I’ll have a carrot now,” she said next, pointing to the one in the bowl she wanted.

I just laughed and spooned it into her mouth.

When I got home tonight after work and doing the deal over at 7th and Irving, I had a very kind text message from the dad too, saying basically how grateful he was to come home from a hard day at work to a really nice dinner.

That too makes my day.

I don’t need to be validated, but damn, it is nice to get it, especially from new employers.

I really am quite happy to be with them and so grateful to be in an environment where I feel like I’m totally being of service and also that I am really appreciated for my skills and the job I do.

Usefulness makes for happiness.

I am happy.

I am happy too that I spent some time before work crunching my numbers and saw quite clearly that despite the unexpected out go of the money for the dental stuff, I will be quite fine this upcoming month.

My costs will be covered and I shouldn’t have any problems with making ends meet.

It helps that I have some cash in savings, so I don’t feel stressed out.

I put 3/4s of my tax return straight into savings.

So even though it feels like I don’t have any money, I in fact, do.

I just don’t want to touch it.

I have one savings account that is for travel and I have one that is the meager beginnings of a prudent reserve.

Plus.

The month of March, five weeks.

So I’ll get a little extra there and although I’m not big on working extra hours past 40, I will one week in March as the dad will be on a business trip and I’m going to help out the family more that week.

I’m not quite sure what that looks like, but I said I would help and I am happy to do so.

A lot of that comes from feeling on top of my school work and my next action steps around my practicum placement and my internship.

I have a workshop that I will be attending the next weekend of school to acquire all the paperwork and take the next steps and then that following week I’ll be going to my supervisor with the paperwork and starting the next phase of the practicum.

So exciting.

There are lots of things happening.

But I don’t feel overwhelmed and I’m not trying to figure anything out.

I just keep showing up day-to-day.

Taking whatever next action is in front of me and letting go of the results.

Because the results are not mine anyway.

They never have been.

I can’t control the outcome of anything.

I can just take some simple actions and love myself for trying.

That’s it.

Pretty damn simple.

It is.

Seriously.

 


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