(And, no, it’s not the scurrying of little rodent feet that I’m sure I heard in the floor vents yesterday. Even though I know I heard them. We’ll just forget about that until there’s any further evidence of rodent life in our house again. Rather…)
Tonight I had a moment (a rather long moment) of panic as I was listening to my course lecture and trying to formulate answers to the on-line discussion questions. I thought to myself, “Am I cut out to be a counsellor — someone who listens to all of the stuff life has thrown at people and all of the ways that stuff has worked its way into the hearts and heads and actions of those people?”
I know part of me is. In fact, I know a whole lot of my personality is well-suited to be that listening, empathetic, encouraging, instructing voice to others. In some ways it feels like I’ve been doing that kind of thing my whole life.
But this time… it’s business time. Letters behind my name. Official. Dealing with people I don’t know. Dealing with them as a professional…
And, most of all, what I’m not sure of is if I have what it takes to face the real depths of humanity. All of that stuff. That ugliness and pain and darkness that I so often wax philosophical about on here. I don’t know if I can face it. Truly. It means facing a lot more stuff in me. And that’s always scary and never fun.
So, really, it’s less about humanity and more about me.