ACA MEMBER BLOGS

I hesitate to turn on the news or check my news report updates on my phone because it feels like weekly there is some type of heavy loss that relates to death. Part of my own difficulty with reading news like this is thinking of the innocent lives that were abruptly taken.

I attended the American Mental Health Counselors Association (AMHCA) conference in Orlando on August 2 – 3, 2018. I met some wonderful colleagues who were doing great work in their communities, and my presentation on “Working with the Mother-Daughter Relationship” was well attended and sparked lively discussion.

I started in the human services 29 years ago. 29 summers. 29 winters. Lots have changed in me, lots have changed in the world in that time. When I started there was no talk of self-care, at least there was none in my orbit. Instead we spoke of the possibility of being productive 16 hours a day, 6 maybe 7 days per week. Holidays were for the retired.

Being a new mom of an almost 6-month old I am amazed at how much my little one pays attention to everything around him. Although he is very young he is learning how to eat by observing others use a spoon so much so that he wants to try out it for himself!

I am reading Mary Catherine Bateson’s Composing a Life for the umpteenth time, each time finding renewed guidance and comfort in her wisdom. Her emphasis on how the “deep chasm of discontinuity” leads us, especially if we are paying attention, to use our circumstances to creatively compose and recompose our life, resonates powerfully with me and also sends me back to Elizabeth Bishop’s line from “One Art” I use as title to affirm “loss is no disaster” but the beginning of something new.

Boundaries is perhaps the most common skill I teach to clients as a clinical therapist. In our childhood we learn that sharing is caring, we learn about the golden rule (doing unto others as you would want them to do unto you) and we learn that it is important to be a good Samaritan.

In life we play many roles, mother, father, daughter, son, student, employee, neighbor, or friend.

Walking through the airport on occasion you have the opportunity to see a service member and their family saying a tearful goodbye. Over and over the service member will have respectful civilians come up and shake their hand and thanking them for their service. The focus falls on service member, and again, their tearful wife, and distraught children, become invisible.

You are a bridge (I promise this will make sense!). A bridge has multiple types of vehicles on it every day. These vehicles can look alike or different, but the bridge is designed to carry them while they drive in a smooth, orderly fashion. But what happens when the vehicles are stopped in traffic? Does the bridge feel that weight?

How much do you read with your children? Once a day, once a week, only on holidays, all the time, hardly ever, don’t know…?