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starlightsaoirsei've been thinking a lot about new years, and resolutions, and debating whether i wanted to bother with them at all. but i'm a sucker for the idea, and i'm sentimental enough to appreciate the beauty in the promise of renewal that the new calendar represents. however, anyone who knows me well knows that i must mull things over for ages before anything actually comes of it. but today, i've finally beat back procrastination and settled down to write something -- and so it is with wide eyes and an optimistic heart that i begin the new year -- nearly two months late -- with these goals in mind.
1. write. anything. really.
i miss writing, like i miss my dog when i leave her at my grandparents', or like i miss sunshine and barefoot walks in the middle of february. in high school, writing was my coping strategy: if i was stressed, i wrote; if i was angry, i wrote; if i was sad, sleepy, frustrated, confused, happy, afraid, excited, uncertain, i wrote. at some point during college, that changed. i developed other strategies, some for the better, likely as a result of the increased freedom i had. i took walks, i hiked through the woods and found waterfalls, i called my boyfriend, i threw myself into the theatre and new languages and new friends. i still wrote, but not as often.
in grad school, i've felt like i don't have time. after reading and researching and writing paper after paper, all i've wanted to do is lay on my couch and read cracked.com articles, or watch marathons of say yes to the dress on tv. and yet here and there, i've scribbled down ideas that have haunted me, begging to be written; i've written short bits and bats about already known and loved characters; i've outlined and researched and daydreamed and planned whole plots for novel-length stories. my soul still aches to get these stories out of my head and heart and onto a page.
and so writing is becoming a priority in life again. through a friend, i've found a delightful site called 750 words (http://750words.com/). 750 words, about anything, unpolished, uncensored. it's a beautiful concept, and it may be a great way to take baby steps. so: once a week, i'll write 750 words in one go. if i manage more, or more often, awesome. but at least once a week.
i have a long-term goal of working more on a couple of projects that are following me. primarily my irish story. but i also started the first bit of fanfiction that i'll admit to, a re-worked hunger games that fixes the bits i disliked, that i started last year. this, i think, will be as fun as reading the book was, and so should not be neglected as it has been.
2. take care of yourself.
last year, in supervision, jamye chided me a lot for my utter lack of self-care. and it was true -- in light of everything that happened -- grandpa's heart attack(s) and hospitalisation(s), mom's MS exacerbation, the stupid bickering going on in my family, my still on-going grieving, and on and on and on -- it was all i could do just to keep functioning and keep turning in assignments and keep showing up to practicum and keep handling other peoples' problems and keep feeding my dog. the idea of taking an hour out to take care of me was nonsense. absolute nonsense. and it showed. i wasn't as effective as i could have been, either academically (my ulster research is collecting dust on my bookcase), as a counselor, as a friend, as a person.
my goal this year is to make myself a priority. if this means i put down the school things and shotgun tv shows with molly because i need the mental break, i do, and idon't let myself do my very best not to feel guilty about it. if i want to eat orangeleaf, i eat orangeleaf. (also, omg, orangeleaf is my newest favorite thing.) i go outside more. walk zoey more. i made a list, because that is what i do best, and separated it into time categories: things i can do in less than an hour, things that take more than an hour, long-term strategies. people to call, yoga poses, places to visit that make me happy.
i can't, however, use this as an excuse to slack. "i don't want to write my case notes, so i'm going to take care of myself, and do x instead." this is against the nature of this. suck it up and do what you're supposed to, buttercup. if, however, the world is collapsing around your ears, go feed the ducks and read fanfiction for half an hour. your paper will wait.
part of taking care of myself is also physical. i've been trying to eat better, been cutting down on soda and coffee (given it up entirely, now, for lent at least) and trying to slowly wean bagel bites (agh, my mortal weakness) out of my diet. i need to incorporate more physical activity, which ought to be easier now that the weather is improving. i had a goal of losing 12 pounds by spring break, which is in less than a month now. i don't think i'll reach it, but i'll have lost something, and that counts. i'd like to lose maybe 20 pounds by the end of the term, derby-time. i want to feel healthy, more than to fit any size or number or shape. i want to hike my trails again and feel strong and capable. i want to run again. i miss running. i miss my body feeling like it could take on just about any challenge. i don't want to walk around loucon this summer, huffing and puffing and miserable and missing out.
3. decide what you want for yourself.
so i've gotten nearly to the end of my masters degree and realized...i don't want to be a counselor anymore.
whoops.
i'm past the agonizing now, mostly. i'm finished with being angry, and feeling as if i've wasted time and money and life getting to this point. i've accepted that the last two years--and this next year, when i'll (hopefully) be earning my EdS and completing the requirements for licensure--are a learning experience, a stepping stone, and that learning what doesn't make me happy is equally as important as identifying what does.
so the next step is thinking more on what i do want. i've been in mostly a blind drive toward this point since i was sixteen. the details have shifted a little--from a general "psychologist" to "expressive therapist" to "working with teenagers" to "maybe community work?"--but still with this end goal of a degree and license in counseling. i decided before christmas that maybe, maybe a phd isn't what i wanted. over christmas break, i let it settle in that maybe a career in counseling, in an office, meeting a stream of clients day after day ("how's your anxiety level been, mrs. johnson?") isn't what i want. i spent january and most of february raging against this, furious with myself, with the path i've taken, with the time i've wasted. now, as always, i'm settling into pragmatics. okay, you don't want this. so what do you want?
i know the basic parts of counseling--helping people, listening, being a kind, supportive ear--are in my heart. the application is what needs to change. this will require letting go of my assumptions and beliefs and shoulds that i've been clinging to. this is scary, but this is okay. this is growth, and this is exhilarating.
1. write. anything. really.
i miss writing, like i miss my dog when i leave her at my grandparents', or like i miss sunshine and barefoot walks in the middle of february. in high school, writing was my coping strategy: if i was stressed, i wrote; if i was angry, i wrote; if i was sad, sleepy, frustrated, confused, happy, afraid, excited, uncertain, i wrote. at some point during college, that changed. i developed other strategies, some for the better, likely as a result of the increased freedom i had. i took walks, i hiked through the woods and found waterfalls, i called my boyfriend, i threw myself into the theatre and new languages and new friends. i still wrote, but not as often.
in grad school, i've felt like i don't have time. after reading and researching and writing paper after paper, all i've wanted to do is lay on my couch and read cracked.com articles, or watch marathons of say yes to the dress on tv. and yet here and there, i've scribbled down ideas that have haunted me, begging to be written; i've written short bits and bats about already known and loved characters; i've outlined and researched and daydreamed and planned whole plots for novel-length stories. my soul still aches to get these stories out of my head and heart and onto a page.
and so writing is becoming a priority in life again. through a friend, i've found a delightful site called 750 words (http://750words.com/). 750 words, about anything, unpolished, uncensored. it's a beautiful concept, and it may be a great way to take baby steps. so: once a week, i'll write 750 words in one go. if i manage more, or more often, awesome. but at least once a week.
i have a long-term goal of working more on a couple of projects that are following me. primarily my irish story. but i also started the first bit of fanfiction that i'll admit to, a re-worked hunger games that fixes the bits i disliked, that i started last year. this, i think, will be as fun as reading the book was, and so should not be neglected as it has been.
2. take care of yourself.
last year, in supervision, jamye chided me a lot for my utter lack of self-care. and it was true -- in light of everything that happened -- grandpa's heart attack(s) and hospitalisation(s), mom's MS exacerbation, the stupid bickering going on in my family, my still on-going grieving, and on and on and on -- it was all i could do just to keep functioning and keep turning in assignments and keep showing up to practicum and keep handling other peoples' problems and keep feeding my dog. the idea of taking an hour out to take care of me was nonsense. absolute nonsense. and it showed. i wasn't as effective as i could have been, either academically (my ulster research is collecting dust on my bookcase), as a counselor, as a friend, as a person.
my goal this year is to make myself a priority. if this means i put down the school things and shotgun tv shows with molly because i need the mental break, i do, and i
i can't, however, use this as an excuse to slack. "i don't want to write my case notes, so i'm going to take care of myself, and do x instead." this is against the nature of this. suck it up and do what you're supposed to, buttercup. if, however, the world is collapsing around your ears, go feed the ducks and read fanfiction for half an hour. your paper will wait.
part of taking care of myself is also physical. i've been trying to eat better, been cutting down on soda and coffee (given it up entirely, now, for lent at least) and trying to slowly wean bagel bites (agh, my mortal weakness) out of my diet. i need to incorporate more physical activity, which ought to be easier now that the weather is improving. i had a goal of losing 12 pounds by spring break, which is in less than a month now. i don't think i'll reach it, but i'll have lost something, and that counts. i'd like to lose maybe 20 pounds by the end of the term, derby-time. i want to feel healthy, more than to fit any size or number or shape. i want to hike my trails again and feel strong and capable. i want to run again. i miss running. i miss my body feeling like it could take on just about any challenge. i don't want to walk around loucon this summer, huffing and puffing and miserable and missing out.
3. decide what you want for yourself.
so i've gotten nearly to the end of my masters degree and realized...i don't want to be a counselor anymore.
whoops.
i'm past the agonizing now, mostly. i'm finished with being angry, and feeling as if i've wasted time and money and life getting to this point. i've accepted that the last two years--and this next year, when i'll (hopefully) be earning my EdS and completing the requirements for licensure--are a learning experience, a stepping stone, and that learning what doesn't make me happy is equally as important as identifying what does.
so the next step is thinking more on what i do want. i've been in mostly a blind drive toward this point since i was sixteen. the details have shifted a little--from a general "psychologist" to "expressive therapist" to "working with teenagers" to "maybe community work?"--but still with this end goal of a degree and license in counseling. i decided before christmas that maybe, maybe a phd isn't what i wanted. over christmas break, i let it settle in that maybe a career in counseling, in an office, meeting a stream of clients day after day ("how's your anxiety level been, mrs. johnson?") isn't what i want. i spent january and most of february raging against this, furious with myself, with the path i've taken, with the time i've wasted. now, as always, i'm settling into pragmatics. okay, you don't want this. so what do you want?
i know the basic parts of counseling--helping people, listening, being a kind, supportive ear--are in my heart. the application is what needs to change. this will require letting go of my assumptions and beliefs and shoulds that i've been clinging to. this is scary, but this is okay. this is growth, and this is exhilarating.
