A Bozeman Counselor's Perspective on Navigating Seasons of Change

As the chill of the season begins to be felt in my bones and I am mesmerized by staring into the flames of a wood stove fire, I contemplate change. The seasons in Montana lend themselves to a sense of change as summer turns to fall and the crisp frost of winter begins to appear on the grass waiting to be enveloped by white flakes. Change. Sometimes dreaded. Sometimes anticipated. Sometimes a surprise. 

As I focus on my own growth and change, I notice resistance at times and excitement at other times. How about you? What pushes and encourages you towards making change in your life? Have you considered what change really is? How often do you just wish that others would change and your life would then miraculously get better? 

Change is something that we experience deep inside and while the journey is one we must make ourselves we do not need to do it alone.  In my own somatic work, I have noticed the power of having another person witness both the pain and the empowerment of making change.  For me, a healing container which includes a circle of many people past and present makes the journey possible despite having to be the one to take the steps. 

Have you ever taken time to notice the subtle changes in your nervous system?  You hear a loud sound outside and your head turns towards the window in an attempt to see what the sound is.  This can be a bit jarring.  You hear the wind softly blowing on the branches and hear leaves drop to the ground with a scuttle.  This brings to mind a time when you were walking with your dog along the river and you take a deep breath as you recall that peaceful moment. Changes in our autonomic nervous system happen all day long and learning that we can spend more time in a regulated state can bring healing and peace.  Many of us tend towards a high sympathetic charge staying in fight or flight when it is unnecessary due to trauma we have experienced.  Others may tend to be more in a collapsed state of freeze, like an opossum feigning death. The good news is that despite what we have experienced in our lives, as we learn to take a nervous system pause and are open to taking time to notice what is happening in our felt sense, we can grow in our capacity to not only feel grief or sadness but joy as well.  As Peter Levine, the developer of Somatic Experiencing, wrote, “The paradox of trauma is that it has both the power to destroy and the power to transform and resurrect”.  This is the challenge of change. Am I willing to take time to focus on the change I so desire no matter how afraid I am? Am I willing to reach out and get the support that will help me as a human feel more fully alive while also being willing to explore the grief that makes me feel death like?   

I leave you some thoughts from Kahlil Gibran that I have contemplated this season as I walk my own journey of joy and sorrow. Each day as I allow my body to experience what is needed on this journey, the change is sometimes excruciating but I anticipate that the joy will be unimaginable.  

Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.

     And he answered:

     Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

     And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

     And how else can it be?

     The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

     Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?

     And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

     When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

     When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

     Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”

     But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

     Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

     Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

     Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

     When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Excerpt from Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet at https://poets.org/poem/joy-and-sorrow

One Bozeman Counselor's Experience on Joining a Religious Order

At the age of 29 I felt called to join a religious order. I am referencing what years ago would be thought of as a convent. It was an odd thing to get a calling post having kids and not really wanting to live in a convent or give up all worldly possessions. But my journey took me to explore religious orders in my lifelong church that offer ways to participate (and do not require leaving your life and committing to a cloistered community). Which was good news for my kids.

My exploration became a lengthy, years long, process. The first step of many is to reflect on and explore the real reasons one wishes to join a religious order. Was it to escape? Was it to feel needed? As much as I would love to share it was altruism and selfless devotion, there were other more selfish reasons.

For one- I reflected on my need to help others and was it truly to selflessly help or was I expecting something in return?

Part of joining the order was to spend time in solitude and I was fortunate enough that my mentor could provide me with such a contemplative place. However, once there I reflected on how selfish it felt to be doing something for myself instead of being with my family.

Finally, I became aware of my very deep need for feeling forgiven. Again, something my mentor was able to provide as I underwent a (very) lengthy deep dive into my past and all the things I had been hiding and protecting.

The years spent prior to joining the order were experiencing reflective time, lots of time with my mentor, more reflective time, and time in service to the community where I lived.

What does this have to do with counseling? Years later I reflect that a calling is an awakening to become more than what we currently are. And I put out to you that in entering into the therapeutic relationship, you also have been called to become more.

As I reflect on what I needed at that time in my life, I have come up with some thoughts:

1. I liked the flow of the day that kept me grounded. The times for reflection reminded me to enjoy the day rather than racing ahead of myself.

2. The connection to and trust I had with my mentor to explore and forgive myself for things I had been holding on to for years felt like a release. Although confession got VERY TEDIOUS it was a reminder that letting go is a continual process.

3. Feeling part of the community I had existed in but not really connected to in a way that felt purposeful. By this I mean I volunteered more in my community and became aware of needs other than my own.

Ultimately what I learned was probably the most precious lesson of all- letting go. The relinquishment of time, expectations, guilt, my past, my future. Not worldly goods but those things that kept me from myself.

Go sell what you own.