My teeny, tiny, 2015 existential crisis...

​I’m not ashamed to admit that I have been in regular therapy for the last 5 years. Sometimes I go once a month, sometimes I see her every two weeks. I consider it essential to my overall wellness.
 
It is one of the most important relationships in my life. She knows me. The messy me. The amazing me. The real me.

In my humble opinion, a therapist who is your match is capable of both helping you process and can call you on your bullshit. They notice patterns and help root you to the earth. (Note: I am not a therapist or counselor, these are my opinions.)

Lately, I’ve had a bit of trouble understanding my purpose. If that sounds like self-indulgent thinking – I know, I’m struggling with it too. 

Why am I here? What are my gifts? What am I supposed to do with them? How can I make my existence worth something of value? Who am I here to help?

The last question is sort of the nut --- who am I here to help? Why is this question so important? It’s important because I have equated purpose with helping/fixing/smoothing over/repairing for the majority of my life.

Is this a bad thing? No, not necessarily. Is it worth looking at? Yes, it sure is.

It may surprise you to learn that while I am college educated, I do not have a degree. None of any kind. Not a certificate, AS or BA. An advanced degree is not in my life’s arc.

My resume reads like a mosaic and is nowhere near linear. The common thread that binds these jobs and roles together is the function of helping. It is what I do. I see vulnerabilities, and opportunities to be of service and I do it. Not in a “look at what I just did” way, just – that is what I do.

I have minimized the importance of helping. It doesn’t seem special, doesn’t require a superior level of mental bandwidth like people with ‘real’ skills. Unless you’ve honed your helper skill set into something valuable to the world you’re kind of stuck. The desire to be useful is deafening – but what the hell do you do with that?

So where am I going with this? Okay, I’m getting there.

A mental shift happened for me in the past couple of weeks. I’m really trying to pinpoint what occurred to shift the tide because I like understanding where ideas and attitudes are born. At any rate, I have come to appreciate what it means to be a helper in this world. 

Helping can look like a lot of different things but what I am talking about is helping by acting as a mirror for others. What I’m talking about is being real and transparent and relatable. What I’m talking about is being a soft place to land. What I am talking about is offering neutral (as possible) observations.
​
I guess what I am trying to say is that I accept that this is who I am and I’m finally really okay with that.

​When several people over the course of two weeks say – “Thank you, what you said to me made a difference” & “I’m glad you’re in my life” & “spending time with you makes my day” – at some point you gotta believe you’re doing something right.

I’m not going to negate my self-worth because I don’t fit neatly into check boxes and columns. 

I'm going to celebrate what makes me April, for better or worse.