A brief gift

I doubt there is anyone who still keeps an eye on this blog. It has been three months since I posted.

I thought I was busy during Winter quarter, but this Spring quarter has been just shy of overwhelming. I have four classes, each of which is on its own day of the week. This means that I commute for 3-4 hours a day for 3 hours worth of classes 4 days a week. 12-16 hours of commuting a week. And while the half hour ferry ride in the middle of that commute does mean I can get some reading done, I find myself more frustrated than anything because I am barely able to break out my highlighters, sticky notes, and books and get into the readings for more than 10-15 minutes before they are playing the announcement for everyone to return to their vehicles to prepare for docking.

Pile onto that trying to see clients, early morning group supervision meetings, a very busy supervisor who keeps needing to reschedule my individual supervision, and then the readings, papers, couple assessments, treatment plan writings, case note write-ups, and, you know, my wife and two kids, church calling, and breathing...well, I am about taxed out. Actually, I am taxed out and quickly reaching my credit limit on my emotional bank card.

This week, I have two papers due, one of which is literally huge and on a very difficult and sensitive topic, am behind by a dozen chapters and articles in reading, and I haven't looked at or posted in one of my classes mandatory readings forums. I felt I was on the verge of breaking down today. And on top of that I had a client.

I rushed off the ferry once it docked and made it here 15 minutes before my client. I combed my hair (my motorcycle helmet isn't exactly kind to my hair), gulped down a quick glass of water, and sat down with my client.

When I sat down, I had no idea how I was going to sit with this woman for the next 50 minutes. But as I talked with her about what she had gone through in the week since I had seen her last, and simply sat with her as she struggled with her decisions regarding some significant marital issues, simply helped her hold this huge burden in her life, my stress, my struggles, and my anxiety all faded. My issues fell away and I was able to be fully there with her as she reached out for support. I was consumed with her wellbeing, not mine.

I stood up at the end of our session. She had made some decisions regarding the next steps in her working through the issues before her, but strangely, I noticed that I felt calm. I felt at peace. I walked her to the door and realized what had happened. That is exactly what a therapist is supposed to be able to do, to leave their own baggage at the door so as to make room for the client.

As relieving as it was that I was able to do that, this self-as-a-growing-therapist moment wasn't the gift. It was what I felt when I realized what had happened. That peace. At that moment, as I was walking my client to the door, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be, doing exactly what I needed to be doing, exactly what she needed me to do.

It only took a minute or two after I closed the door behind her for everything to come flooding back. The paper due tomorrow that I barely have even started to look at jumped out at me. The readings I need to catch up on began screaming at me. The muscles in my back started to tighten up again and my anxiety roared to life. I feel just as overwhelmed as I did before my session tonight, but somehow, things are in just a bit of a better perspective.

Tonight, before I pass out cold on my pillow, I'll utter a brief prayer of gratitude to my Lord for that brief gift today.

It was badly needed.