Sometimes, the stars align and the universe smiles, and a person is bless down to their socks. Does happen all the time, but I was fortunately thusly, yesterday.
Years ago, I studied in California to get my counselling degree…and one of my professors came to town this week to teach a week long course here…and she looked me up!
We agreed to get together for breakfast on Sunday morning.
On the way to breakfast, we stopped by my office…at her request…but I’m glad she asked. I got to show her the waiting room, the offices, and she looked at our books, and we discussed approach, and theories, and the practice of therapy. She looked around, and admired things, and made comments that told me she noticed what I was doing in our practice that made it the kind of place that is a great place to have therapy. I gave her some “Bergen and Associates Counselling” pens…one for her, and a few to take back to the school.
I realized at some point, that it felt a little like a kindergartener showing her picture to the teacher…asking her to admire it. Just at the very moment I was about to say (in appreciation for the opportunity to show her my stuff)…”Thanx for caring enough to want to see my office and see what I do, and the space that represents what I’ve come…and thanx for your very important contribution to that process” she instead says to me, “It is so nice as a teacher to see the ripple effects of the work that we as teachers do in the classroom. Sometimes as a teacher, you just don’t see the final results of all that work. It’s so wonderful for you to take time to show me your offices and let me see that all that work that I pour into students has some lasting effects”.
We proceeded onto breakfast, having a chance to catch up on each other’s lives. We showed each other pictures of our respective tribes…she’s got grandchildren now! She told me about other profs at the school…some of whom had moved on to other things, some of whom have died. I heard about their funerals…and heard about their families. We talked about books and writers and theorists who were important to us. She invited me to come to her class one afternoon to talk to her students about a few things.
It was great to get together with her on a number of levels. I was her “T. A.” (teacher’s assistant) back when I was a student and it was just good to catch up. S’funny tho, how there was a surprising feeling at the end of the visit inside me.
I realized that I am a “grown up therapist”…on some level, I’ve known this for some time: I have a greater confidence that continues to develop, and I can notice the success I have in facilitating clients as they work hard when they come to therapy. I am increasingly sought after by folks who ask me to work with them, or who would like to work as a colleague…I have both internal feedback from inside of me, and external feedback from colleagues and clients that say I’m a therapist who is capable.
But yesterday, my teacher/mentor and I chatted as colleagues. She asked me what I had been reading and what I thought was important to know…like she valued my opinion. T’was a weird and wonderful feeling to realize that it “fit” to dialogue with her as a colleague. It affirmed and confirmed me in my work in a way I hadn’t expected—but was delighted to note and experience.
Writing of this reminds me of the year I started teaching years ago at the University of Manitoba…where I got my undergraduate degree. The photocopy room was a tiny little place that had a hash mark at the entrance on the floor, and a clear sign on the wall, “No students allowed”…I’d spent 3 years knowing I couldn’t go in there when I was a student…and then, years later, when I had to go in there as instructor, I crossed that threshold with trepidation, reluctantly, half feeling that I should expect to get “kicked out” out of there. Took months before I didn’t hesitate to go into the photocopy room, having to reassure myself that I really did have authority and ability to confidently enter a room that only professors could enter. Gradually, though…it became a small matter of pleasure to know that I could enter the “no students allowed” room along with the other profs…many of whom had been my teachers, and now seemed to apparently consider themselves my colleagues.
Sorta interesting how life experiences affirm and confirm growth that has happened so slowly and so gradually that it isn’t noticed (and then neither, celebrated) until some sort of milestone happens that says, “You done it”:
- An anniversary after a difficult year of marriage where commitment to love and the relationship has triumphed
- Completing a 5 km run that celebrates and highlights the increase in regular exercise in a person’s life
- A trip made alone after the shattering of a marriage…the marking of “I can so things like travel and enjoy myself on my own—I WILL be OK”
Take note of little things (or big ones) that mark achievement, sometimes invisibly or subtly so, and take the time to celebrate how you can do things now that you didn’t or couldn’t before.
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