Unexpected meetings

In my job, I have the privilege of meeting people from all walks of life, with all types of stories, ages, nationalities. I am invited into their world, I am a (sometimes silent) witness to their pain. And time and time again I am amazed about the human spirit's desire to survive and to keep going. I am a counsellor. This is what I do: Listen. Encourage people to tell their stories. Bear witness to people's stories and enable them to, eventually, make sense of their respective storyline.

What I didn't expect when I started my journey as a counsellor was that I would meet myself over and over and over again when other people would share their stories with me. That in listening to them I would hear myself talk (through their words) about things that I (used to) battle with in my own life. Sometimes the similarities were so intense that it almost terrified me - I would hear a story which reflected a struggle in my own life at exactly the same time.

You know, being a counsellor is the most amazing privilege I can imagine. Encountering myself and sometimes finding answers for my own struggles is an added bonus. But first and foremost, what this job teaches me every day is that we are all human. We might have lots of money or we might have none, we might have a presumably perfect life or we might live in a constant hell, we might be beautiful or clever or talented (whatever that looks like in the first place), but whoever wherever whenever we are, we still have similar battles. This thought comforts me. No one feels exactly what I feel and still, we all have probably felt something similar at one point in our lives. We are not alone in this. I can see myself in your story. Thank you.

Share your art

“So many art and expressive therapists never share their art. Even Carl Jung did not dare to share his art – for fear of being seen as a crazy person. But I dare you to share your work despite your fears. Despite your (non)abilities. Share you art. It is worth it.”

This is what Shaun McNiff said at the Whitecliffe Expressive Arts Symposium last year. Well, he said it a bit more elaborate than that, but this is what stuck with me. Do I dare to share my art? Not really. I have started a creative journal last year and I have been writing stories for a little while now, but some things I just don't dare to share with a wider audience. Also, I don't call myself an artist. I am great at discounting my own work, thinking that no one would be interested in it in the first place.

And then, just last week, I listened to Judith Scott's story (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46LdVzWoNhI). I was in awe of her incredible ability to make her inner processes visible with her chosen medium. I witnessed how she managed to speak her first words after years of silence. How she followed her heart, innocently like a child. Without limiting or judging herself.
And then, a couple of days later, Stefan (my husband) and I had a conversation about the question: What is art? Who gets to decide? How much talent is needed for something to be considered art? It was a most wonderful conversation and it made me think some more.

Like I've said before, I don't consider myself an artist. I can't draw very well. I can't sculpt or weld or do anything that requires 'artistic skills'. But is this true? And does it matter? And what if I am actually wrong…? This year, I am planning to create more 'art'. To use it as a medium of self-care. And as a medium of self-discovery. And I have decided that Shaun was right after all: Art is worth sharing. Any art. When I share my art, I am vulnerable. I show myself to whoever dares to look. And if others don't consider it art: I believe it is not up to them to decide. So here is what I created today. Here is me.

Introducing self-doubt

For me, self-doubt is something like a good ol' friend. We have known each other for as long as I can remember and trust me, we have had our fair share of good and not so good times together. Self-doubt, for example, is very reliable. Always there when I (don't) need her. Always playing her (well-known) games with me. And certainly one of my clingiest friends enemies.
Over the years, self-doubt and I have had a few conversations. I remember this one well, when I was starting out on the longest tramp to date and initially, nothing seemed to go as planned. Everything was so much more difficult than I had anticipated and I was ready to give up. The conversation back then went something like this:

(Self-doubt, sneering) Soooooo, you really thought that you would be cut out for this?
(Me, meek voice) Well, yeah, kinda...
(Self-doubt, arrogant) You are ridiculous, you know that? You, cut out for this. Cut out for ANYTHING? Really? Stop day-dreaming.
(Me, quietly) OK....

My relationship with self-doubt has changed somewhat when I compare my life today with my life back then. Yes, the relationship is still rather complicated and more, well, 'intimate' than I would prefer, but some things have changed. I have completed my studies just three months ago and am now in the delightful terrifying position of finding a job. The only thing being that there are no jobs out there in Auckland. Well, there are a scattered few, but most of them are not what I would want to pursue as a career choice. So, what to do?

1. I could sit in my house until the day when a fairy godmother arrives at my doorstep with the perfect offer of employment in her silver hands. (Don't ask me why the hands are silver, they just are.) Well, not gonna happen any time soon.
2. I could be happy to volunteer until the end of my days and make jam and preserves in my free-time. Tempting, but no thanks.
3. That leaves good ol' option number 3: Get out there and find it. Create it. Be it. This what I want, but it scares the living daylights out of me. And it certainly opens the door for self-doubt, who happily sneaks in...

The thing is, nowadays self-doubt still makes herself heard. And that's actually OK. Because someone with a very gentle voice has recently joined these conversations: Self-acceptance. And this person listens to self-doubt. Listens to all her worries and fears and insults. And then, very gently, self-acceptance moves closer to self-doubt. Very slowly, as to not scare her. Self-acceptance is the quiet presence that allows self-doubt to be. To rest. And maybe, one day, to transform. No one knows when 'one day' will come. It might still be a while. But it doesn't matter. Self-doubt has finally found some rest. And that is all that matters for now…

A journey starts with one tiny step post

"Why don't you start a blog, talking your experiences at this point in your life? Others might benefit from what you might share." This is what a very precious person in my life said to me today. Stupid idea. Good idea. Really? Oh, why not.
So here I am, starting on a fresh blogging journey. About what it's like to be a counsellor. About how I (don't) cope with the tight job market here in Auckland, about self-doubt and anxiety and discoveries. And it's also about all the marvellous moments this wonderful job has to offer - big and small. But most of all, it is about being human. Being real. Being vulnerable. And being together in all of this. I am excited to see where it might lead us.
Arohanui.