Typically, I'm careful about the content of my blog regarding things that could get me in big trouble. I don't blog that much about work unless I'm not working at a place anymore or unless I have something positive to say about it, I don't blog about my love life if I'm currently in a relationship, and I don't really blog about my family. I count this as "too bad," because I've got some fantastic stories in all three genres, but when I think about how writing about any of those could be misinterpreted and hurt people, I figure it isn't worth it. Most of my blogs are about internal conflict, every day observations, and human interactions. They get personal because of the internal conflict part, but not because of the things that I hold in high regard, like interpersonal relationships or my job. So, let me generalize when I write today, and try to track with me.
In my old job, we used to talk a lot about different careers and jobs because we were helping people figure out how they were going to survive after they went through a horribly gruesome and humiliating divorce. So, in that process, I gained a lot of knowledge about a lot of different jobs. One thing that I learned is that PR/advertising is always a field for young people. Well, that came back to me today while I was in an employee-wide office meeting and I noticed that everyone at my office is really young. Ok. That's the first thought. Try to track with me as I jump to the next thought.
Second thought: I beat myself up for a while, and still do from time to time, for pursuing an advanced degree in the helping professions, because, let's face it: grad school is really effing hard. I mean, REALLY hard. It's like being married, or at least what I imagine what it's like to be married. It's being committed and focused and making a crap ton of sacrifices. Getting my M.A. is one of the hardest things I have ever done because it took so much sacrifice, and it was worth every second of it: the money, the discipline, the sacrifice, the time, the willingness to run from potentially serious relationships. I loved it. The reason I beat myself up, though, was because I usually think that I should've gotten a degree in something more lucrative, because, let's face it (again): there ain't no money in the helping professions, and a girl gotta pay her bills, and sometimes I felt a little bit like working that hard for a degree that wouldn't really pay me monetarily made me feel kind of dumb. I ran around with a bunch of UCLA MBA boys for a while, and they were incredibly smart and talented and entrepreneurial, and they'd tell me about their projects and marketing strategies and start-ups, and I'd sometimes feel this little twinge of regret, because I thought to myself, "Heck, I'm creative- and I'm inventive, and I'm tough. I could do this MBA stuff.... But I'm becoming a counselor." I knew how much money they would be offered once they got that MBA behind their name, and I couldn't help but think to myself that maybe I chose the wrong path, and maybe I should've gone to business school so I could be making six figures straight out of school, too.
So. This is where I am going with these thoughts: during my meeting today, I looked around at all of the wrinkle-free faces, and heard the word "vibrant" used about 3098 times, and also heard the word "pretty" used a lot, and heard a lot about pushing Facebook and Twitter and "checking into" places with our iPhones to live VERY public, social media oriented lives.
And this is what I thought about: I am really glad that I don't check into places with my iPhone so that people can know exactly where I am, who I'm with, and what I'm doing. I'm really glad that I don't talk about my family or love life online. And you know what else? I'm really glad that I didn't go to business school.
You know what I thought about when I was hearing a bunch of very young people talk about living "publicly" and "vibrantly"???? I thought about two of my elderly professors at Loyola. One of them was a real old catholic priest. I loved him so much. One of them was a grouchy old man. I loved him even more. I thought about one of my professors/advisers at U of M, and what a beautiful heart and an incredible mind he had under that gray head of hair. I thought about old people, and old people who are professional helpers, and how blessed I've been to learn from them, be mentored by them, and appreciate their "oldness" and "privateness." (I know that privateness is not a word. Don't worry about it. Stay with me.)
I started thinking about what it means to be private, and what a sacred thing it can be to be private, when there's something special between you and another person that isn't all broadcasted all over the internet. I thought about this safe place that's created in a counseling environment, and how sacred it is to be able to know that you're bound by confidentiality and HIPPA and all kinds of crap to keep quiet and open up and help and be helped.
And then I was really, really happy that God put in my heart to help people. I know that right now, I'm not practicing as a counselor, and that I'm working amongst a lot of visionary idealists who lack life experience because of their youth, but there's an excitement and "vibrance" about my current situation that makes me see the value in being excited. I can learn a lot from these young, energetic, idealistic people. Even though right now, I'm doing math all day, and I'm bad at it, and I screw up a lot, I work with a supportive staff. The most important thing that I know, though, is that deep in my heart, I have this soul craving to help people, and to help reduce the stigma of mental health in the south, and a desire to learn from old people in academia, and I am so happy to know that it has never gone away, even though there's no money, and I'm poor, and I've worked really hard to not be moving forward in this direction at this second in time. Today, for some reason, I felt no regret, and that felt really, really good.
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