Reflections

“When I dare to be powerful - to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid” – Audre Lorde

 

As a burgeoning counselor taking my first steps into the professional world, I see myself as a guide for personal exploration, a sounding board for reflection, and a conduit for change. I imagine myself to be the expert who is willing to admit he knows nothing, and the student ready and eager to learn more. I believe that I am responsible for honoring those who present themselves and their swollen souls longing for recognition. And to those who give me their blessing, I accept the charge of helping them to take responsibility for their own lives, and to no longer be whipped by the forces inside their own hearts. This entails helpful guidance, tough love, and above all honesty, for them and myself.

         I see counseling as far more of an art than a science, but like all art there is science involved, and as with all science, there is art involved. Central to this art of counseling are the concepts of service and empathy.  That is, through genuine empathy we as counselors are able to provide the greatest service to our clients. And it is our service to our clients that is the greatest expression of ourselves.  I believe humans, by nature, are social animals and it is the familial and social worlds that provides us with both our greatest joy and deepest despair.  We, however, do not always learn the best practices in cultivating the positive regard we search for and in time we can develop certain tendencies that are reinforced by our familial or social relations, but are actually destructive or conflict inducing by nature.  I believe human happiness can be attained through efforts engaged in understanding and being understood.  In order to do this we must not only respect ourselves but those with whom we come in contact. It is in the development of these life skills, this respectful regard with which we hold ourselves and others, that we can begin to find the strength, means, motivations, and the meaning for overcoming life’s challenges, failings, and disappointments. In this we can also find a joy and appreciation for our accomplishments and life’s moments of serenity that will astound us.

         Throughout this program I believe I have spent more time studying and reflecting upon the numerous theories and their applications in relation to my own life experiences, than I have in relation to the numerous theoretical clients and case examples that have been presented in class. I have tried to process my experience, my successes, and my suffering through the many lens available to students of psychotherapeutic theory so as to put myself in the position of an individual fraught with life troubles who could find salvation in such perspectives. And like Cinderella, some slippers fit, and others are two small for my toes, and the same will be true for many of my clients. This, as I learned in my pursuit of a Masters in education, necessitates differentiation in instruction. I have learned that in order to carry this off with success I must not only be disciplined about educating myself as to the numerous theories and honing their respective techniques, but I must also develop the discipline to be present with each client in each session. To not grow complacent and presumptive, but to rather recognize the original and creative moment that occurs with each interaction.

         With three months under my belt of sharing a therapeutic space with a small group of wounded soldiers, I have seen both my strengths as a counselor, and my areas of needed growth. I believe I excel in building rapport, creating a safe and therapeutic space, and understanding and reflecting my understanding of a client. The ability to hold the space with a client, to be present with both their pain and their fears, their hopes and their joys, and to honor their experiences and their heartfelt expressions are skills that come very naturally to me. I have also found that when I surrender to the experience of being present with myself and my clients that I am able to access my intuition as a guide for myself and my clients. I believe that these skills and strengths can support and engender a metaphysical connection or understanding that impacts both the client and myself for the better.

         Being able to foster such a relationship is essential to this work, but it is not the entirety of this work. Such a relationship serves as the environment in which therapy can be undertaken, and such an undertaking requires appropriate tools applied at appropriate moments. It is the manipulation of such tools and the knowledge of when and where to apply them that I am still learning. It is with extreme gratitude that I recognize the opportunity I have at the VA hospital this year, an opportunity to have direct access and training in the tools of such theories as CBT, CPT, exposure therapy, and other therapies shown to be helpful with trauma survivors. As I learn more of the differing interventions that can serve those who are in search of help, I can proceed with confidence in knowing that I have come to this place in my life not out of accident and that I possess an innate ability to help those who are wounded to heal.

It was one morning in January 2007 when I awoke before the sun with lonesome feelings of dread and hopelessness. I was half way through a masters in education at PSU and no longer feeling that my place in the world was in a classroom of adolescents. Although I was fascinated with the finer points, and disagreements, of world history, I had learned that the role of educator was not going to serve me in the pursuit of my intended goal when I enrolled in the program. It was my hope that as a teacher I would be able to serve as a mentor and guide to young people as they navigated the treacherous waters of American youth. In the darkness of that morning all I could see in my future was the frustrations of crowded classrooms, district and state policies mandating curriculum and limiting creativity, and a degenerative autoimmune disease that was slowly reducing my strength and mobility. One would say it was a very dark day, but one would also say it is darkest just before the dawn.

Full of desperate feelings I searched for a way out. I could not just drop out of the program, that would solve nothing and leave me with even less reason for keeping on than I presently had, which was becoming a less and less convincing reason the more I thought about it. Sitting in this space, in the dark of my apartment lit only by the screen of my laptop that was at present shuffling though my music library at random, a song came on that shook me from my forlorn stupor, This Year by the Mountain Goats. A song recounting a young man’s fears and frustrations that culminated with a chorus that rang out, “I’m going to make it through this year, if it kills me.” And with that it dawned upon me. I knew what I wanted to do; I should probably just do it. So began another leg of this journey we call life.

In so many ways, this moment encapsulates much of my belief and perspective on the goal, role, and practice of counseling. That night, alone in my home, a song reflected the pain I felt inside, offered me a new perspective on my suffering, and stoked the fire of hope in my heart. I hope to be this song for those who I encounter during my career as a counselor.