Counseling can be tough on a counselor. Long hours, ok pay at best and all the heartache, turmoil and aggravation that lead clients to partake in the work related to making long and lasting change. We do this because it is what we do; some argue it was what we were made to do. Actually, I am one that has often posited that very position when talking with new clinical track graduate students: you can learn the theory, you can study the skills but nothing can make you a good clinician, you either have “it” or you don’t. Of course, I cannot define “it,” your clients cannot define “it” either in most cases but they know if “it” is in you. They know how you make them feel; they know how you motivate them and that they want to come back week after week to work on the toughest topics.

I resisted “it” for several years in lieu of work as a certified welder, factory worker, maintenance man and security guard among other things. “It” kept following me from job to job however and when my bosses got tired of “everyone going to you to talk about their problems when they are supposed to be working” I tried finding work in other places; a gypsy of sorts wondering the workplaces of my area until “it” made my work uncomfortable. Finally a boss in a local factory called me into the office on the second or third week on the job to give me the familiar talk. I advised him that I did not invite them to my bench; they found their way one by one like an assembly line of broken souls seeking to be mended by the cobbler. As he told me I was hired to be a shipper and receiver and not a shrink, it finally occurred to me that he was right. I looked him in the eyes and thanked him for our talk, “you’re right, you did hire me to be a shipping and receiving clerk and not a shrink. I quit. I’m going to go to college so I can be a shrink. Thanks for the help and guidance.” I walked out that door and became the first in my family not only to graduate from High School but to attend college. “It” had finally been listened to I guess.

Even if you have “it” this work can be tough. Few can handle working with the dark side of humanity on a daily basis (dark referring to the issues not our clients themselves). If we fail to have outlets, if we fail to maintain our balance we will fall, our lives will suffer. I remember talking with a marriage therapist a few years ago who himself had been divorced four times but whose card read something to the effect of “save your marriage here; ask me how.” I love irony wrapped in a blanket of hyperbole as much as the next guy so I thanked him for the chuckle. Sometimes we need to rethink our specialties I think.

As I type this the sun has all but set behind the west hill of Pillwillop Farm. The hawks have gone to their nests and the sprouting garlic is shivering in the unseasonable cold that is visiting. Stillness greets me at the window as music plays in the background; courtesy of a hybrid of my vintage turntable and receiver and my wife’s Zune MP3 player. In the distance, coyote prepare to do their bidding. I am miles away from small children who have been traded by their parents for crack, subjected to the worst physical and sexual abuses, abandoned, crying and shattered. I am miles from those who have just walked in to find that their spouses are not alone when they were working overtime and miles from the parent who just lost their child to the texting idiot in the SUV. I am in my place of balance. “Doc Warren” was left behind in the office and “Doc” a nickname that I had years before I became a doctor because I “seemed to know a lot about everything” is the common greeting. Gone are the button down shirts, dress slacks and office clothes and in are the tee shirts, boots and other farm friendly wears. I am not talking to anyone though I will if there is a need. “It” is taking a break so that I can recharge.

Lynryd Skynyrd sing a song about needing to recharge when they get off the road. The song pleads with friends and family to ask them no questions and they will tell them no lies. How when they are off the road they just need to get some peace of mind, these words are custom made for clinicians who routinely work 60-80 hours per week, month after month for years. We need to find a way to clear our heads or we will lose our minds. Fishing worked for the band but finding our balance is different for every person. I find mine in the country acres of Pillwillop Farm, it’s 52 Acres of hardwoods, softwoods, minor crops and the legend of the elusive “Pillwillop” that pulled the lone wagon rider into the swamp in the 1800’s or so. I find it in the calluses on my hands, the sound of the 1940 Ford 9n tractor that is used to push, pull and otherwise work the land. I find it in the work that I do to help a dear friend carry on the legacy of this once great farm that has been reduced from hundreds of acres to its present size due to being sold off in large chunks over the course of the last few generations as members of the family moved to the bright lights of the city, selling that which their ancestors left them. He is determined that the remainder will be here a hundred years from now, long after we are buried in this great earth.

These few hours away from my office do much to recharge me so that tomorrow I can be there for the heartache. This refreshment also allows me to be fresh enough to take the time to enjoy the joy that comes from the words and emotions of those who have come to the end of therapy renewed.

I realize that my story is less than interesting to most of you but I told it to help illustrate the need to find balance between what we do for a living and what we do for ourselves. It is only when we find balance that we can be of the optimum use to our clients. If you are reading this, you likely discovered that you had “it” long ago. Hopefully you have discovered your balance and will be willing to share it with us. What do you do to find balance? Do you sing, dance, make art or wage mock battles? Do you sing in a rock & roll band on the weekend or make sand sculptures? I would love to hear what works for you as we can all learn from one another.

Warren Corson III (Doc Warren) is a counselor and the clinical & executive director of a community counseling agency in central CT (www.docwarren.org).