I started writing this while sitting in my office due to a no-show, watching a squirrel eat the food I put out for the chicken who visits my office daily. It’s another day where the pressures of needing hours for my license ring in the back of my head while I try to focus on other things instead of dwelling on the missing hour. I tell myself it’s an hour that you can do something productive with, yet I find myself staring out the window in an effort not to scroll on my phone.
I keep thinking I have so much to say and update everyone on in blog form as it’s been close to a year since I have, and then when I sit down, my mind goes blank. I often spend time breathing and working towards a quiet mind, so you would think I would welcome this space with open arms, but it frustrates me. This isn’t the time I’m asking my mind to be a blank space; where are the words?
Words have been a form of processing for me since I was a child writing poems in an old apple tree. During the entire process of caring for Steve and the journey into finding myself back as a therapist, writing was my constant. All I had to do was sit in front of a journal or computer, and the words would flow. I always felt like I had an open tap to sentences flowing from my fingertips.
I have often neglected to show up to my computer for personal words since starting back as a mental health counselor because words have switched places in my life. Now I am having conversations upwards of 9 hours a day. If all of my clients show up, by the time my week is done, my mind seems unable to weave words together coherently, let alone a pleasant one.
Yet I remain persistent in knowing I need to share my story in writing. The thought will never leave my mind; it’s in the background when traveling, in session, or hiking in the woods. The knowledge is deep in my being. I feel it in my core, so not showing up to writing is a self-betrayal.
There’s only so much I can find myself spinning out because I know I am being called to show up to something and ignoring it. After all, it’s hard. It’s hard because my brain is heavily weighed upon in these conversations with my job. The job is my purpose. I know it is because nothing else makes sense, but now I realize I need to reclaim a part of me that I’m giving away in it.
Me showing up to a writing practice benefits my clients as much as it does me because when I’m showing up to that more significant calling that will not stop shouting my name, I’m showing up to life. I’ve navigated many things with my clients with ease because it’s been something I’ve navigated with myself prior; now, this will be added to my list of understanding self to understand others.
If I need to find something to hold me accountable, maybe this will do the trick. If I do show up for myself, I can more fully show up for everyone else who comes to me with their dreams and wishes and so desperately wants to show up to their dreams in their entire presence.
Now I’m sitting on my porch with the view that, despite how familiar it is, it still distracts me in the best ways. The fog rolled over the lush green trees in their peak summer aliveness. I intentionally took the beginning of this week off to soak in time alone with words and nature. Knowing how many clients would not come into the office for the 4th of July week, it felt like the perfect time to reclaim the part of my brain I’d given away freely for over a year.
I spent my day with a picnic by the creek reading old journals to try to drudge up the rest of this book I’ve been writing for the past decade. This isn’t one of those announcements of completion, nor is it one of those dopamine hits where I talk about doing a project instead of working on one. Looking back at my past journals reminded me of a time I needed it, that my life is my story, and it’s always there, ready to be told.
All I have to do is show up. Show up. Show up for me.
found this page in an old journal that was calling me out, if you want to be more confident in your work, do more of it.
So, allow me to step into this era of accountability with grace and say it’s about time I’m here. This is just one of many areas of my life I feel like it’s time I hold myself accountable for. The energy in the cosmos, the intensity of summer, and pulsing through me are one of holding myself responsible for my dreams, growth, and life!
I started this new practice of acceptance and working on loving parts of myself that I know is my shadow side to integrate it instead of running away from it. You can’t heal something you won’t look at, so I am in full cringe right now, making myself look at pieces of me that I have avoided acknowledging directly in the face, working towards that phrase of I am cringe, but I am free.
I accept that when things get hard, I often want to stop showing up because it feels easier to not try instead of failing. However, in holding myself accountable to living a life aligned with my values, it means more to show up to life's callings and try than to not. So here I am. So is this an update without a real update? Kind of.
Also, to inform you, if you aren’t already in the know, that I started a youtube channel. Because filming rambles & pretty scenery is now an easier way to keep my throat chakra open and flowing than typing blogs, if you’ve missed your doses of hope, check it out. I go into more detail about the things hinted at in this blog update in my videos. If anything resonates, please let me know! Trying to find my swing, and all feedback is helpful information.
Real updates are soon to follow aside from this playful plea for you to tune into my channel, and I have been long over due for a travel blog update cause the world has been GOOD to me but also imparted lessons that want to be shared!