8 – Excuse Me While I Make Meaning

1/31/21

School started back this week – my last semester, maybe even my last semester, if you know what I mean. It’s got me feeling super nostalgic, which makes me laugh because I’ve still got to get through the next three months. Send coffee. Send hugs. Send Proper Bagel gift cards.

I like to think of my time through this degree, hopefully anyone’s time through this degree, as emotional bootcamp. Founded in the idea that you can’t guide someone to a place you’ve never been – an idea that has given me hell over the last two and a half years. You’ve got to earn your keep, you’ve got to question your motives and your weaknesses and your self-doubt at the door each and every day.

My work as a therapist has sent me into some of the biggest gotta-take-a-lap-around-the-building happiness I can remember. However, very much like a newborn giraffe taking its first steps and stumbling the whole way, I’ve also taken on too much pain, filled myself up with unbroken-pattern-fueled frustration, and asked myself, “why?” more times than any person should. And I’ve been meeting with people for a year?

I have a lifetime to try to find the words for what this all means to me, and you’d better believe that I’m going to try. I have to. It’s in my bones. Right now, I’m excited. I’m surprised. God, I’m tired. So I’ll end with a piece I wrote out of some session inspiration. It’s one of my favorites.

Lightly,
Leah

your secret self
is host
to your secret mind
and your secret heart. 
some people
live long, full lives
filled with love
and shared laughter
and mourning
without a shred of awareness
that any other self
besides the one they see
in the bathroom mirror
exists. 
your secret self
is your protector,
keeps a tight grip
on that which is too scary
too true
too painful.
holds the fullness of you
until you’re ready,
if you’re ever ready.
there in your whispers
and your quiet dreams
and the stillness of your breath.
lovingly knowing,
lovingly holding
you