time out........

"Ordinary life, be my rock in times of trouble
Get me back on the earth
Put my feet on the ground."

It's been a while since I sequestered myself downstairs in the room I consider my own (and lend out to guests when they visit). I hadn't felt the urge to tuck into this comfort zone. But tonight, it called out. It called out for many reasons, all to do with the warmth you feel when soul rediscovery happens. So, here i am...... surrounded by sweet aroma candlelight, their flames somehow flickering meditatively to the voice of my companion on nights like this..... Van Morrison.

I can feel the silence coming........
Silence coming in hymns soaked in Celtic resonance.
Bred in the bone familiarity touching my own Celtic soul.

There is a beat to his music which conditionally slows me down, and leads me to a place of resting contemplation where I feel my breathing find its safe evenness. When I reach that security, my own emotions reveal themselves. Tonight, I needed to answer the call to this comfort zone, to gather my thoughts, to reflect more deeply than what the typical day allows.

Tonight...... I want to and need to re-coop, refresh, reframe, relax, and restore ....... So, I return to my soundproof, music filled, candle lit, duvet soft room, where the photos remind me of my roots. As soon as I tucked in, the softening began in a blink. The restlessness that was haunting me all evening as I paced with no sense of purpose or direction took a hike. I'm rediscovering my core, which was caught under the gathered layers of others.

I've encountered many overflowing cups these days and nights .....
Cups spilling over with acute feelings of anguish, disbelief, anger, confusion, of creeping depression, sleep deprivation, obsessive thoughts.
Cups in need of repair because they've endured big swipes from startling life gashes.
Cups spilling from the tired trembling hands that are trying so hard to balance it all.
Cups tumbling over, splashing crisis after crisis onto the floor.....

Stories and secrets unraveled with me right there to listen to, to sit beside, to try to understand, to store in confidence as promised.
As promised.....
Stories sometimes revealed in big immediate bursts, some in convoluted contortions, some in half formed thoughts and in words not worthy enough to describe the fullness of the tearful trauma.

Secrets held in with such vice grip tightness because the idea of revealing them brought red cheeked shame, or blotchy neck rash guilt were finally allowed to spill out in messy humanness.

I've realized that the type of counselling I'm best at is the crisis stuff. At the time when I was really grovelling in a ruminative navel gazing way over whether or not I wanted to continue counselling as a career, I kept stubbing my toe on the whole topic because I was only seeing the side of the field that pertains to therapy....long term, client caseload therapy.

Not for me! No. What I need is to be in the middle of the melee..... to be out in the corridors connecting, directing, listening, guiding, encouraging, hugging.... to be in my office deeply listening, problem solving, asking questions, delving into the soul crevasses, and mentoring someone to learn how to take their own lead. This is the type of counselling I'm involved, and it completely suits my personality. Its intense. Its fast paced. It requires complete rapt attention while in the moment. Rewarding beyond words, connecting through counselling is massively transformative.... for both of us.

It's tiring too. But in a really really good way.

I've encountered many overflowing cups these days and every single time I have been given the opportunity to connect with another person on a level not many have the chance to. In order to keep at it, however, I need to be aware of when it is time to sequester myself in my comfort zone.

so here I am..... drinking deeply again, sitting in the silence soaked in celtic resonance. "By his grace, by his grace...."

time for sleep................................