I've gotten really bad at blogging, haven't I? It's the lack of spare time. Or maybe it's the lack of productive use of limited spare time. Either way, I haven't been much of a writer these days.
The need to "get it all down on paper" has been less of an impulse. I'm not sure if it's because I'm busier, more mature or just not as easily moved. Maybe it's all of those reasons. Or none at all.
There's a mechanism in my brain I have been learning how to turn on and off. It's the one that opens a vortex to idealism and empathy and pervasive concern. It leads to a beautiful space, but it's the one that, if left open, would pull me into everyone else's stories so deeply that I would lose myself. I think it's a battle every Christian therapist has to wage — walking the line between care and crazy. To not be disturbed by the levels of depravity and despair filling client lives would make me less than human. But to let that disturbance overwhelm would be my ruin. So, I learn to leave it all in the office.
How? I learn the value of now — to sit in today … this hour … this moment. Yes, still making wise choices for tomorrow, but finding sanity and peace in an exploration of today. I remember that just like no theory offers a complete formula or explanation for pathology, personality or purpose, no pathology, personality or purpose should ever be considered definitive or fathomable. I remember I am not the Savior, that I cannot enact another's change or healing. I let go of thinking that I have any idea of what's best or good or right for anyone but myself … and I let go of the weight of responsibility such ignorant thinking once placed upon me.
As a result, my passion to write has withered slightly. There's a subtle ring of detachment around the rim of my interests and opinions. I guess as more people's stories flood my life, less people get to be party to the chapters of mine? I'm not sure. Like I said, it could be a phase brought on by a busy season of life … or not. I guess we'll see? Two weeks and counting 'til the end of the semester …
Love.