"Work is love made visible."
-----Kahlil Gibran, Lebanese American writer
A few reflections about my work as we ease into a Monday morning...
To be honest, I probably grumble about my work as much as the average Joe/Jane. On a daily basis the mundane tasks such as reports to write, data to compile, student notes and treatment plans to evaluate, infinite meetings to attend, insurance companies to wrestle with, county policies to decipher,calls to return...these become draining.
But every Fall, I welcome a new group of interns. My next team arrives on August 24th. Bright, warm-hearted young people (and several quite sharp older people working on a second or third career) who are volunteering thousands of hours, paying thousands of dollars in tuition, all for the privilege of becoming a psychotherapist. We provide them 3 hours of licensed staff supervision every single week to assist them with the myriad issues that come up with their client caseloads.
If I become too jaded to train the interns under my care, I hope I will know it's time to take a sabbatical! Yet this has not happened. Despite the painful stories and being company to those in the wake of trauma, grief, and illness, the work teaches me more than it takes away.
I was 16 years old when I took my first General Psychology course at De Anza College.
Here is what I recall: the topic was so enthralling that it felt like an "easy A"-not because I'm so brilliant, but because it didn't even feel like work to study and learn. Also, I still remember my professor (Wendell Goesling) talking about a child case. He was an older man, and had clearly taught this intro class countless times already. But I remember the care and interest that radiated from him when a topic really moved him. Even at 16, I remember thinking, "hmm. I want to do something I care that much about, that will last me in the long run."
When my students ask me about life as a psychotherapist, I can answer sincerely. I love what I do, and I am aware that that is rare among career choices. (I do look back and think I should have studied harders and shown more discipline!) But I would not otherwise change my choices. Do I wish therapists' were better compensated for their phenomenal graduate school debts and intense liability risks? Of course, that would be fair and ideal.
Yet more importantly, am I glad to do something meaningful and rewarding, that helps me grow in depth and wisdom every single day? Absolutely. With every year of this work, I appreciate life more deeply. I'm challenged by all there is to yet learn, and I love sharing what I have learned with others. I feel like a honeybee when I attend conferences and conventions - I gather as much information and I can hold and bring it back to my hive. I am humbled by the resilience that flowers in some of life's most unexpected crevices. I see my role as helping people develop the skills to heal or grow that they never knew they had, and to arm them with accurate information as tools. All within a confidential and empathic climate of course.
Being a professor and supervisor is only slightly different than being a psychotherapist. Ultimately my interns and clients leave, moving forward in their lives. The end of each year results in a bit of an "empty nest" at the clinic as people graduate. The end of each therapy relationship carries a bit of sadness at parting with brave and fine people who have sought solutions and bared fears. Many will surpass me in their accomplishments, health, and happiness - which is sure sign that my work is indeed going well.