Today I went through part of the training to facilitate the kid’s grief groups here. Just like the camps, they do things a bit different here than I’ve done before but the same basic ideas – you’re there to give them a safe place to work through whatever they need to in their own way. I’m really excited to get started with the kids. Which sounds weird – I’m so psyched to talk to children about death, woo! Obviously it’s not the same kind of excitement that a bottle of Jagermeister or skydiving or a hot night with a hot boy stirs up. It’s a quieter pull to something I know I’m good at that I know will make a difference in the world.
So why don’t I rush to my nearest graduate school and get licensed? I’m not ready financially, emotionally, or in spirit. I’m having fun with my magazine, first of all, and I haven’t worked through enough of my own issues to be able to help anyone out at a counselor level yet. You work to that in school, I know, but I do think you also need to sort out your own shit to a certain point before you can get started. So I’m sorting shit out and heading towards that path. That career isn’t going anywhere and although life is short and we shouldn’t put off things we want to do, I feel good with taking it slow and letting myself grow into that place. It’s a new tactic for me, for sure.
And what a day to feel a pull to help children with grief and trauma. It would be awesome if there was no need for the kind of career I want to have but that supply and demand equation isn’t likely to change anytime soon.