Notes on Vulnerablity

I think I am good at my job...most of the time. I am not saying this so that all of the people who care about me will write wonderfully supportive and lovely things about my counseling skills once they are done reading this post. Although I feel like I am good at my job, if my clients are not willing to work hard, I'm pretty much useless and I suck because they won't do jack, therefore wasted skills. Today, the cosmos aligned and one of my clients utilized my skills and our trust at the same time. I was totally shocked and mystified at first, and then, it just flowed. We problem solved, together. (Cue the chorus of Hallelujah!)

There is something to be said about walking along side someone while they are experiencing their true emotions for the first time. I can't say that its fun and I can't say it is all that satisfying, but I can say that you feel like you just walked in on someone's at home water-birth. It is very exposing and you feel vulnerable in their vulnerability. Plus, it's so fascinating that you can't look away and break your attention; it like the experience is pulling you in even though it almost hurts with intensity. Really, a tricky, tricky place to be.

When I encounter vulnerability, it reminds me of elastic, or a rubber band covering your whole body. It stretches and bends, and only when you try really hard, does the elastic pull away and we get a glimpse. Not a large gaping stare, but just a glimpse and a stepping off point to encourage you to try again. Then, just as surprising as that glimpse, it is gone and the elastic is back in place, tucked away securely and safely hugging your body tightly and protecting you dearly. Then, the session is over, and the exhausting yet gratifying experience starts over next week.

So today, I watch an emotional at-home water-birth. Pretty cool. We made it through together, without drugs or back-up.

Then I went home and jump-roped.