inspirations

the rain is falling steadily.

since i no longer live full-time in a house, i can’t hear it beating against the roof. but i hear drops smacking against my window pane, hear the cars sw o o o o o shing through slick wet pavement, and the patter of rain hitting the pavement in the courtyard below, and it’s comforting yet the same. it’s supposed to rain through the weekend, the forecasters say. i’m sitting at my desk, my room dimly lit by a frosted lamp, listening to the different repetitious sounds made by the rain as it falls against different textures. i want so much to write… write endlessly… write therapeutically… write about experiences and relationships, dynamics and interactions, about the things that disgust me and make me cringe, things that bring unexpected tears to my eyes, things that trigger me to throw my head back as i laugh out loud.

it’s been a difficult year. so many mistakes i have made in the course of my getting oriented to my profession. and so many countless mistakes still to come! i leave every session with a “Dang, I should have done this. I should have said it this way…” thought – doesn’t help much, as my tendency is to overanalyze and overcriticize myself only.

and then there’s the personal stuff. Personal stuff that comes up as strong countertransference as my clients challenge and test me. personal stuff that seeps in through the pores of my thoughts, no matter how much i try to block it out. personal stuff that swims around in my gray matter as i drive from one session to the next, eat, take showers, pray, exercise, meet up with friends, do my quiet time, etc. it’s always there.

so writing a book about personal stuff and work stuff, all mish-mashed together, would presumably be greatly therapeutic one day. can’t wait to do it. meanwhile, God continues to challenge me with all of this. i think it’s yet another of His ways of making me rely on Him, no matter how annoyed or frustrated i become.

flip-side? no matter how annoyed or frustrated, His mercies contain me. No matter how annoyed or frustrated my clients make me, I contain them. [Is that really what my initial thought was? I think I had a brain lapse somewhere in there…]

if only i could stay in tomorrow, smile at the gray steely sky and the steady rain from inside the confines of my safe, comforting space, and write… and write… and write.

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