opening a new door...

An ending and a beginning. That point of transition when one door closes and another opens. It is that time now and despite my efforts at prepping myself for the changes, I can already sense the uncertainty and muted tensions settling into my body and mind.

Yesterday was my first day at my new practicum site up in the mountains. The day went well and I enjoyed the pleasant camaraderie of the six other women with whom I will be working. It was quite a different experience from other “first days”. Such a small group and only women; it was refreshing. Of course we had the official “meeting” in the morning, discussing new cases and concerns with ongoing ones. But it was not a typical meeting. A small table with chairs pulled haphazardly around the edges, inspirational art adorning the walls, and a mixture of unique personalities and appearances completed the scene. But above all the evident idiosyncrasies of these diverse women, what I noticed most was the common thread of passion in each of their voices. Sitting at that table, I realized that my work there will be about far more than fulfilling the requirements of “practicum hours”. My work there is about making a difference, fighting for the safety and healing of children and adolescents whose lives and spirits have been threatened and attacked amidst a world that should have been filled with innocence and playfulness and happiness. Despite their individual job titles and responsibilities, what was most prominent in that room was passion. And that passion reminded me of why I have chosen to live this chaotic day-to-day rat race. Compassion permeated the air, the scent of dedication wafting throughout the converted 1950’s style home, settling into an atmosphere of love and support. And as I shared a delicious meal with these women, I felt inspired and excited to be welcomed into this amazing “family” of healers.

Today is my first day of classes for the new year. Beginning my third year of doctorate school, it seems impossible that so much time has elapsed since that first day two years ago when I walked into a classroom of strangers and began this journey. In the past two years, my life has changed in so many ways. No doubt I have learned much during this time, but the knowledge has reached far beyond the walls of a classroom and even beyond the boundaries of my professional existence. These years have witnessed an internal growth, a “coming of age” into my own self, my own unique identity. New friendships have been formed, bonds that speak of connections that will last for a lifetime. Relentless hours of studying have occurred and crucial moments of haunting anxieties have been shared. Late night conversations about cases and reports and the frequent venting sessions about debt and sleep deprivation and fears about failed attempts at perfection. But the past two years have also seen many nights of laughter beyond the tears. Holiday parties, birthday gatherings, Tuesday night rituals of relaxation. Celebrations with wine and dancing and talks that last until the early morning hours. And it is these memories that bring me comfort today as I venture back down to the city, walk through those same glass doors, and step into yet another classroom and another new beginning. The anxieties and fears are not so different than those of the past two years, but when I walk through those doors today, it is not the faces of strangers I will see. This “family” has offered shoulders for the tears and encouragement through the valleys, and knowing this makes this beginning not quite so frightening.

It is time to get moving now. The old doors are gently closing behind me, the news ones painted in vibrant colors. Breathing deeply, one step at a time, I will enter…