Saturday, June 19, 2010
Have To Drive
I decided to become a Jungian therapist a year and a half ago. It just came to me one day, I don’t really remember when or how, it just was. Not knowing how one goes about this task, I asked my therapist Leslie. She told me “You have to find a school that will teach Jung.” She said it in such a way that it seemed as though it may be difficult. I think in my mind at the time I equated difficult with impossible and too daunting to think about any further for a while. She also said I would have to get a bachelor’s degree (in anything I wanted, her suggestion was music for me) and then get a master’s degree in psychology and then you can get licensed and practice. For some reason I thought there were “counseling programs” to train you and no actual college degrees were required. This is all highly laughable to me now and shows how little I knew about what it means to be a Jungian psychotherapist.
Several months later, I was unable to sleep in the middle of the night and did a search for “colleges that teach Jung” on my Mac. I wasn’t finding programs that were called Jungian Studies but programs in Depth Psychology that included Jung’s theories in their programs. Again, it’s very funny to me because I had no clue what depth psychology was and found myself asking Leslie at our next session. She explained that Depth Psychology is the umbrella and Jung would fall within it, along with Freud and others who studied the Unconscious. She asked me what schools I had found and was Pacifica Graduate Institute one of them? Yes, actually it was! But it’s in California. However there is a school in Seattle called Antioch that teaches depth psychology. She looked at me smiling and said, “You’ll get a great education at Antioch.”
I saw a few immediate problems, the first being that Antioch is in Seattle and I don’t drive to Seattle. The second was that it’s a private university and the tuition was pretty high and why spend that much money just to finish an undergrad degree? Once again, I put the idea to bed for a little while.
Fast-forward to earlier this year when I had my “epiphany” (for lack of a better word) that if I didn’t go back to school soon to get the degrees I need I would never become a psychotherapist. I decided to apply to the new University of Washington campus in Bothell, which wasn’t too far from home and offered a new degree in Community Psychology. It seemed interesting enough but the classes are held during the day, which would mean I would have to quit my job and find something in the evenings. And I wasn’t really too thrilled about the likelihood of taking classes with kids fresh out of high school. Even still, I applied in February for winter quarter 2011. When I didn’t hear anything right away I began to get worried I wouldn’t get accepted. And if that was the case, what was my Plan B?
Enter Antioch University. I started poking around their website and found out they are a school that is geared towards working adults and only offers classes in the evenings. Well that would cut out the teenybopper factor and eliminate the need to find a new job. Plus, you could design your own degree program. I would be able to combine concentrations in Psychology an Spiritual Studies (a combination of depth and transpersonal psychologies) to prepare me for my ultimate goal: graduate work at Pacifica in Santa Barbara, California—the premier institute for Jungian studies and depth psychology. Antioch was looking that the perfect school for me. I applied to Antioch in March and got called for an interview in April and was accepted in May. I have yet to hear from UWB.
There was still that issue with driving. I had turned my initial statement of “I can’t go to Antioch because it’s in Seattle and I don’t drive to Seattle” around into “I will learn to drive in Seattle so that I can attend Antioch.” But I still had to do it and I had to do it fast because orientation was being held two weeks after I got my acceptance letter. I thought I would have a whole summer to leisurely practice driving to convoluted, one-way street laden Seattle but life had something different planned for me. I did two practice drives with my boyfriend over the next two Saturdays and then I would be solo for Monday’s event. I was nervous all day long with shaking, no appetite and constant bathroom breaks. Then it was time to go. And as I got on the highway, I was fine. I got off the highway and carefully navigated my way through downtown with hyper vigilance. But I was fine. My gps announced “Antioch on your right” and I was there and I was fine. Now came the part of meeting a bunch of strangers. And again I was fine. In fact, I was more than fine--I was at home. All the anxiety about getting there dropped away because I knew I was in exactly the place I needed to be. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that before. In that concrete building in Seattle that was a symbol of no-man’s-land for so long I had found a place where I belonged. And now the driving seemed like nothing because the driving leads me here.
I have to drive. I drive my car to school so that I can drive my ambitions. One day I will drive to California and drive to my ultimate goal. And then I will drive some more to destinations yet to be realized. I will drive. And I will be fine.
Several months later, I was unable to sleep in the middle of the night and did a search for “colleges that teach Jung” on my Mac. I wasn’t finding programs that were called Jungian Studies but programs in Depth Psychology that included Jung’s theories in their programs. Again, it’s very funny to me because I had no clue what depth psychology was and found myself asking Leslie at our next session. She explained that Depth Psychology is the umbrella and Jung would fall within it, along with Freud and others who studied the Unconscious. She asked me what schools I had found and was Pacifica Graduate Institute one of them? Yes, actually it was! But it’s in California. However there is a school in Seattle called Antioch that teaches depth psychology. She looked at me smiling and said, “You’ll get a great education at Antioch.”
I saw a few immediate problems, the first being that Antioch is in Seattle and I don’t drive to Seattle. The second was that it’s a private university and the tuition was pretty high and why spend that much money just to finish an undergrad degree? Once again, I put the idea to bed for a little while.
Fast-forward to earlier this year when I had my “epiphany” (for lack of a better word) that if I didn’t go back to school soon to get the degrees I need I would never become a psychotherapist. I decided to apply to the new University of Washington campus in Bothell, which wasn’t too far from home and offered a new degree in Community Psychology. It seemed interesting enough but the classes are held during the day, which would mean I would have to quit my job and find something in the evenings. And I wasn’t really too thrilled about the likelihood of taking classes with kids fresh out of high school. Even still, I applied in February for winter quarter 2011. When I didn’t hear anything right away I began to get worried I wouldn’t get accepted. And if that was the case, what was my Plan B?
Enter Antioch University. I started poking around their website and found out they are a school that is geared towards working adults and only offers classes in the evenings. Well that would cut out the teenybopper factor and eliminate the need to find a new job. Plus, you could design your own degree program. I would be able to combine concentrations in Psychology an Spiritual Studies (a combination of depth and transpersonal psychologies) to prepare me for my ultimate goal: graduate work at Pacifica in Santa Barbara, California—the premier institute for Jungian studies and depth psychology. Antioch was looking that the perfect school for me. I applied to Antioch in March and got called for an interview in April and was accepted in May. I have yet to hear from UWB.
There was still that issue with driving. I had turned my initial statement of “I can’t go to Antioch because it’s in Seattle and I don’t drive to Seattle” around into “I will learn to drive in Seattle so that I can attend Antioch.” But I still had to do it and I had to do it fast because orientation was being held two weeks after I got my acceptance letter. I thought I would have a whole summer to leisurely practice driving to convoluted, one-way street laden Seattle but life had something different planned for me. I did two practice drives with my boyfriend over the next two Saturdays and then I would be solo for Monday’s event. I was nervous all day long with shaking, no appetite and constant bathroom breaks. Then it was time to go. And as I got on the highway, I was fine. I got off the highway and carefully navigated my way through downtown with hyper vigilance. But I was fine. My gps announced “Antioch on your right” and I was there and I was fine. Now came the part of meeting a bunch of strangers. And again I was fine. In fact, I was more than fine--I was at home. All the anxiety about getting there dropped away because I knew I was in exactly the place I needed to be. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that before. In that concrete building in Seattle that was a symbol of no-man’s-land for so long I had found a place where I belonged. And now the driving seemed like nothing because the driving leads me here.
I have to drive. I drive my car to school so that I can drive my ambitions. One day I will drive to California and drive to my ultimate goal. And then I will drive some more to destinations yet to be realized. I will drive. And I will be fine.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Accepted!
It’s official! I will be starting Antioch University in the fall. I opened the letter right in the middle of the driveway despite the drizzle and quickly scanned for the only word I cared about: accepted. Isaias gave me a huge hug and I immediately started sobbing so hard the tears filled up my glasses. I wasn’t crying merely because I was admitted because I knew I would be, even before I applied. In fact, the woman who interviewed me said that I was a strong applicant and exactly the kind of person they were looking for. She said she would recommend me for admission and “see me in the fall.” I was crying because my dreams are starting to come true and a dream realized is a strange feeling. I am going to finish my BA and eliminate all the guilt I had for not finishing it when I was so close over a decade ago. And then I will go to graduate school to get an MA in Counseling Psychology and I will be able to start a private practice. The Plan that I made for myself at the beginning of the year is coming into fruition…and fucking WOW.
There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel. There will be a last day at my current job. There will be a day when I don’t have to dread dealing with those difficult dysfunctional people. There will be a day when I will do what I do best and make money doing it!
My interviewer asked me simply at the beginning of our meeting “Why Antioch?” I told her that I had a very specific goal of doing graduate work in depth psychology at Pacifica Graduate Institute and that an education at Antioch would be the best first step I could give myself. And so it begins, “the adventure the hero is ready for is the one that he gets,” said Joseph Campbell. I am ready for my adventure and I am equipped with everything that I need, including the thing that I haven’t had in the past—outside support. I have the support of a loving and wonderful man who has never discouraged me from following my path. And I have an excellent network of friends who have been my cheerleaders every step of the way. And I have my amazing psychotherapist who told me at our first session that everything I need to be successful can be found inside me. And that is why this time will be different.
I am on my way.
There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel. There will be a last day at my current job. There will be a day when I don’t have to dread dealing with those difficult dysfunctional people. There will be a day when I will do what I do best and make money doing it!
My interviewer asked me simply at the beginning of our meeting “Why Antioch?” I told her that I had a very specific goal of doing graduate work in depth psychology at Pacifica Graduate Institute and that an education at Antioch would be the best first step I could give myself. And so it begins, “the adventure the hero is ready for is the one that he gets,” said Joseph Campbell. I am ready for my adventure and I am equipped with everything that I need, including the thing that I haven’t had in the past—outside support. I have the support of a loving and wonderful man who has never discouraged me from following my path. And I have an excellent network of friends who have been my cheerleaders every step of the way. And I have my amazing psychotherapist who told me at our first session that everything I need to be successful can be found inside me. And that is why this time will be different.
I am on my way.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Interview!!!
Got a call today to set up my interview at Antioch University! So fitting that I got this call at work, at the very same desk where everything started to happen to me. It really came full circle. I'll be meeting with an admissions adviser on May 10 so that gives me plenty of time to find the perfect outfit and rehearse my "story" so that I don't go blank. I am excited and was shaking after the call but my "calm focus" has returned. Unusual for me, but I like the change.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
I Want One!
I had my first encounter with full-grown Saint Bernards this past weekend and it was love at first sight. They were so calm and affectionate--they melted my heart. They were definitely therapy dogs for me in that moment. I wonder if they ever work as actual thearpy dogs? In either case, it makes moving out of this leaky duplex and into a single family home with a fenced in yard seem very appealing. Plus, a friend of ours runs a Saint rescue--seems like it was meant to be, n'est-ce pas?
Monday, April 12, 2010
Two Years Gone: Looking Back and Moving Forward
Two Years Gone: Looking Back and Moving Forward
Two years is a long time. And in that time I have changed greatly. Tremendously. I can say that I am definitely not the person today that I was back then. I am a better person. I was always nice and respectful…of others, yet lacked the skills to be respectful to myself. And if I had been this new and improved woman back then, the shit that happened would never have flown. But fly it did.
Things were messed up from the get go but I truly didn’t know any better. I didn’t think to ask for a job description and what was explained to me seemed ok enough. But there was one omission—I was expected to drive as part of this job. Had that fact been made clear to me at the onset my story would end here, as I would not have accepted a position that required me to drive. I could have declined without explanation and no questions asked.
I am a recovering agoraphobic. The last manifestations of my condition reside in driving. I am comfortable driving my own car around my regular haunts. But my new job required me to drive a company car—a sedan that was much larger than my compact Toyota. I was really nervous the first time out and had to do some breathing exercises to stave off a panic attack and I even went to the bathroom to cry upon my return. Subsequent trips in the company car lessened my anxiety and then the unthinkable happened: the company car was taken away and I was expected to drive a company rig. The rigs are pick-up trucks with canopies and you can’t see out the back window and must rely on mirrors to see behind you. I was told I would have to drive these vehicles before my lunch break one day. I went home and had a panic attack, fervently reading and re-reading my employment contract to see if I missed anything regarding this driving obligation. I hadn’t.
Allow me to back up the truck a moment. When I interviewed for this job, I told my potential boss who is also a counselor about my struggles with agoraphobia, my success with therapy and that I still have problems with driving. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it and I think he appreciated my candor.
After the aforementioned lunch break, I returned to work and spoke to my office manager about having difficulties with driving unknown vehicles. I even mentioned that this was brought to the attention of the owner at my interview. Her solution was to have another employee take over the driving. Fast-forward several months to when my office manager tells me “We really have to get you into a rig” and of course I panicked. I thought this was over. I made my reservations known and I was “taken outside.” We work in a small office with little privacy so anytime someone is to be reprimanded, it is done outside, in front of the office. She told me “I thought we were past this.” And I was perplexed because even though I was in therapy, learning to drive foreign vehicles was not on my list of things to accomplish. I told her it was stupid for me to have to consider quitting my job because I didn’t want to drive a truck, especially when it wasn’t made clear to me that I would ever have to do so. She told me that if I quit it was my choice and that lots of office positions require you to drive. I pointed out that she had seen my resume and that I came from a background of food service management and retail customer service—neither of which require one to drive. She told me that she had reservations about hiring me due to my lack of office experience but decided to give me a shot. She then said that the two owners didn’t know that I had “this problem” and she had been covering up for me and insinuated that if they found out that I wasn’t driving that I would be in trouble.
I was furious! How dare she use my condition against me, and then claim that I should be past this by now? That is not her determination to make. And I knew she was lying because I had told the owner myself about my struggles. I went to the other owner because she was in the office at the time. I explained to her my struggles regarding having to drive for this job. Imagine my surprise when she said “Honey, if you don’t want to drive you don’t have to.” Simple, just like that. Imagine the immediate relief and the subsequent rage that all of this could have been avoided. That perhaps all of this was manufactured just to make me feel bad about myself and my condition. And yet I persevered. I thought about quitting but I didn’t because this job paid very well and I desperately needed the money.
And that was just the first issue of many. Others included the garden variety office drama of people talking behind your back and being harassed and insulted by the crass, insidious man whose behavior was excused because “That’s just Steve.” Another occasion found my sales records being sabotaged by a co-worker, which resulted in my desk being moved into another room to get away from her. And yet another was having to report verbal and physical harassment by a male co-worker. In his case, he was forced to sign something saying the behavior would stop and even one infraction would result in his immediate dismissal. Are we sensing a trend here? I did. The violators are not prosecuted and the burden of all the bad seeds was upon me. Why didn’t I just leave? Long story short, I wasn’t the person I am today. If I had been I would have left the first time my agoraphobia was used to shame me and make me feel bad about myself. But for some reason I kept working towards a change.
Which brings me to today. I have my resignation letter written and ready to turn in to the powers that be. Part of it is that I’m going back to school full-time to become a psychotherapist. Part of it is that I’ve grown out of the job and wish to do something different with fewer constraints on my time. But the biggest part of it is retribution for what should have happened long ago and didn’t. For all the bullshit I had to put up with. If anything was learned it is that age does not dictate behavior as all of the offenders were old enough to be my parents and should have known better. I can speculate as to reasons why I was targeted but that’s a story for another day. In the end, what is important is being able to look back and see that I have grown and have developed boundaries and self-respect. And I will take those qualities and find a place where I can project them and have them reflected upon me in a way that is healthy. It will happen because it is supposed to happen. As Joseph Campbell said “The adventure the hero is ready for is the one that he gets.” I am ready for mine.
Two years is a long time. And in that time I have changed greatly. Tremendously. I can say that I am definitely not the person today that I was back then. I am a better person. I was always nice and respectful…of others, yet lacked the skills to be respectful to myself. And if I had been this new and improved woman back then, the shit that happened would never have flown. But fly it did.
Things were messed up from the get go but I truly didn’t know any better. I didn’t think to ask for a job description and what was explained to me seemed ok enough. But there was one omission—I was expected to drive as part of this job. Had that fact been made clear to me at the onset my story would end here, as I would not have accepted a position that required me to drive. I could have declined without explanation and no questions asked.
I am a recovering agoraphobic. The last manifestations of my condition reside in driving. I am comfortable driving my own car around my regular haunts. But my new job required me to drive a company car—a sedan that was much larger than my compact Toyota. I was really nervous the first time out and had to do some breathing exercises to stave off a panic attack and I even went to the bathroom to cry upon my return. Subsequent trips in the company car lessened my anxiety and then the unthinkable happened: the company car was taken away and I was expected to drive a company rig. The rigs are pick-up trucks with canopies and you can’t see out the back window and must rely on mirrors to see behind you. I was told I would have to drive these vehicles before my lunch break one day. I went home and had a panic attack, fervently reading and re-reading my employment contract to see if I missed anything regarding this driving obligation. I hadn’t.
Allow me to back up the truck a moment. When I interviewed for this job, I told my potential boss who is also a counselor about my struggles with agoraphobia, my success with therapy and that I still have problems with driving. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it and I think he appreciated my candor.
After the aforementioned lunch break, I returned to work and spoke to my office manager about having difficulties with driving unknown vehicles. I even mentioned that this was brought to the attention of the owner at my interview. Her solution was to have another employee take over the driving. Fast-forward several months to when my office manager tells me “We really have to get you into a rig” and of course I panicked. I thought this was over. I made my reservations known and I was “taken outside.” We work in a small office with little privacy so anytime someone is to be reprimanded, it is done outside, in front of the office. She told me “I thought we were past this.” And I was perplexed because even though I was in therapy, learning to drive foreign vehicles was not on my list of things to accomplish. I told her it was stupid for me to have to consider quitting my job because I didn’t want to drive a truck, especially when it wasn’t made clear to me that I would ever have to do so. She told me that if I quit it was my choice and that lots of office positions require you to drive. I pointed out that she had seen my resume and that I came from a background of food service management and retail customer service—neither of which require one to drive. She told me that she had reservations about hiring me due to my lack of office experience but decided to give me a shot. She then said that the two owners didn’t know that I had “this problem” and she had been covering up for me and insinuated that if they found out that I wasn’t driving that I would be in trouble.
I was furious! How dare she use my condition against me, and then claim that I should be past this by now? That is not her determination to make. And I knew she was lying because I had told the owner myself about my struggles. I went to the other owner because she was in the office at the time. I explained to her my struggles regarding having to drive for this job. Imagine my surprise when she said “Honey, if you don’t want to drive you don’t have to.” Simple, just like that. Imagine the immediate relief and the subsequent rage that all of this could have been avoided. That perhaps all of this was manufactured just to make me feel bad about myself and my condition. And yet I persevered. I thought about quitting but I didn’t because this job paid very well and I desperately needed the money.
And that was just the first issue of many. Others included the garden variety office drama of people talking behind your back and being harassed and insulted by the crass, insidious man whose behavior was excused because “That’s just Steve.” Another occasion found my sales records being sabotaged by a co-worker, which resulted in my desk being moved into another room to get away from her. And yet another was having to report verbal and physical harassment by a male co-worker. In his case, he was forced to sign something saying the behavior would stop and even one infraction would result in his immediate dismissal. Are we sensing a trend here? I did. The violators are not prosecuted and the burden of all the bad seeds was upon me. Why didn’t I just leave? Long story short, I wasn’t the person I am today. If I had been I would have left the first time my agoraphobia was used to shame me and make me feel bad about myself. But for some reason I kept working towards a change.
Which brings me to today. I have my resignation letter written and ready to turn in to the powers that be. Part of it is that I’m going back to school full-time to become a psychotherapist. Part of it is that I’ve grown out of the job and wish to do something different with fewer constraints on my time. But the biggest part of it is retribution for what should have happened long ago and didn’t. For all the bullshit I had to put up with. If anything was learned it is that age does not dictate behavior as all of the offenders were old enough to be my parents and should have known better. I can speculate as to reasons why I was targeted but that’s a story for another day. In the end, what is important is being able to look back and see that I have grown and have developed boundaries and self-respect. And I will take those qualities and find a place where I can project them and have them reflected upon me in a way that is healthy. It will happen because it is supposed to happen. As Joseph Campbell said “The adventure the hero is ready for is the one that he gets.” I am ready for mine.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Platitudes, Psychotherapy and Personal Growth: Finding Meaning in the Mundane
March 18, 2010
Platitudes, Psychotherapy and Personal Growth: Finding Meaning in the Mundane
“What do you do for personal growth?” he asked me. I was at my third job interview at the age of 32. Not third interview for this job, mind you, but third interview of my life. I started working for my parents at the age of 14 and continued working for them for 18 years. I had a brief break my first quarter of college and for a few months when the entire family left cold, cloudy Cleveland for the sunny grand adventure of Las Vegas, where we would open a store and run it as a family. You would think I was brave, trekking across the country to face the unknown. But neon lights, burnished mountains and 110-degree heat had nothing on what ultimately claimed me—agoraphobia.
I’m not exactly sure when it started. Perhaps it was before we even left, as I was terrified of driving my car across the country. So we traded it in and took my then-husband’s car instead. And I didn’t drive again for nearly six years. There wasn’t a good reason for it, I just didn’t and no one really pressed me on it and so it was. When we bought a house, we chose one that was only a few blocks from my parent’s house so they could easily pick me up on their way to work. Then Jay or my sister would take me home from work. “Jenny doesn’t drive,” they would say. But that wasn’t entirely true. I had had my license since I was 17 and knew how to operate a vehicle. In fact, one night before heading home from work my sister got sick and asked me to drive us in her car. I was panicked and frightened and don’t think I ever approached the speed limit on the highway, but I did it. That was the only time. Well, the only time until Jay and I decided it was time to get a second car.
In 2003 we purchased the first brand new car either of us had ever owned. I don’t remember what the impetus was, only that it was to be my car to drive even if I was only going to drive it to work and back. And even though I had this new semi-mobility it didn’t cure me of my fear of going places alone. I didn’t do my own grocery shopping or pump my own gas and if Jay was with me, he was certainly the one doing the driving, not me.
Fast-forward four years in which we bypass my divorce, my first-ever sessions with a psychologist (who ultimately diagnosed me as agoraphobic), and a burgeoning new relationship with the man who holds my heart to this day. A wonderfully supportive man who helped me to take the first steps in my recovery and ultimately drove with me the 1300 miles from Las Vegas to Seattle (each driving exactly half of the 18 hour journey) to make a home and a life together. Isaias always told me I could do anything I wanted to do. It would take me a while to realize and eventually I did and am now reaping the rewards of that conviction.
Don’t think that I think of myself as some fairytale princess who just needed her Prince Charming to come and save her. My story is not that succinct. After my move I became depressed for the first time in my life. I had never been so far away from the family I was used to seeing every day and it was taking its toll on me. Once again I decided to seek therapy. My previous foray into psychotherapy was less than a success. I learned a few things, like how to “build on my successes” in terms of conquering my fear of driving. But over time I began to see my therapist as a parent-type and wasn’t being totally forthcoming with her for fear of being reprimanded like a child. I stopped going after just a few months. I found my current therapist through a referral from a friend’s therapist and have been seeing her regularly for almost three years. And she’s not just any therapist—she’s a Jungian psychotherapist. I don’t know why the fact that she was Jungian resonated with me. I certainly didn’t know much about Jung. I owned a copy of “Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious” but I had never gotten more than 20 pages into it. The referral list I was given had about 8 names on it. I called several and left messages for all and made an appointment with the first one who called me back. Then Leslie returned my call. I don’t know what it was about her but I knew she was the one. I made an appointment with her and called the first one back to cancel and I’m so glad I did.
My confidence in driving began to regress once I moved and I was scared about having to take the highway to a place I’d never been to meet a woman with whom I was going to share my most intimate fears. I don’t remember much except that she was very nice and welcoming and understanding. I had told her that I moved here with Isaias yet I felt alone because Isaias had family and everything here and “I have nothing.” She plucked that phrase and made it the focus of the session. Before our next meeting I was to make a list of “What I Have.” And I did. And with it came hope. It was the beginning of a beautiful journey that has brought me to where I am now.
“What do you do for personal growth?” asked my soon-to-be boss. I loved the question and I loved the interview—the most Zen, non-interview ever, of that I’m sure. I told him that I was a singer/songwriter/pianist and that I use music to express myself and attain personal growth. He told me that he had a master’s degree in counseling and I shared with him my experience of agoraphobia and recovery and that I was in therapy still working on it all. He told me what a mentor once told him: Pain is our birthright. We shook hands, said our goodbyes and I was offered the job a few hours later.
In the two years since then we’ve had the opportunity to “wax philosophical” on a few occasions. Most recently he told me of a Sanskrit phrase “Neti neti” which translates to “not this, not that.” He used it to illustrate how to describe what God is or what Love is—we don’t know what it is, but we do know what it is not. Neti neti. I didn’t know the extent of how this would resonate with me.
The New Year found me agitated and feeling stagnated. I didn’t feel like I was going anywhere with my life. Sure, my job paid well and I had learned skills I never thought I would but somewhere deep inside I wasn’t satisfied. Enter: Death. No, I’m not being emo and I didn’t attempt suicide or have a near-death experience. This is Death from The Endless. The sister to Dream, Desire, Delirium, Destruction, Despair and Destiny. The Death of the Sandman graphic novel series by Neil Gaiman. More simply, I changed the desktop background on my computer at work to an image of Death—a pretty Goth girl with a charming smile. Written on it was “You get what anyone gets. You get a lifetime.” The words haunted me. I found myself avoiding the text and her exuberant gaze. I had decided a year prior that I wanted to become a psychologist but I was just waiting to save enough money to go to school. But then there’s Death looming over me telling me my time will be up eventually. My 35th birthday was just two months away. I had no plans to go to school but if I didn’t go now, when was I going to go?
I had recently read an article on a blog called Zen Habits entitled “The World Needs You To Do What You Love.” It listed seven steps to get started on doing fulfilling work. Work doesn’t need to be boring and mundane. Work should be something you’d do even if you didn’t get paid for it. One of the steps was to make time to attain your goal. So I made the time to research universities and make education my number one focus. I have applied to a state university and will apply to a private university soon. I already have my graduate school picked out. I am going to be a Jungian analyst with a private practice.
Oh yeah, Jung. Dr. Carl Gustav Jung. Remember when I said that something about Jungian therapy resonated with me? At the time I would have said, “hmmm, that’s kind of strange.” But now I would say that it was me connecting to the collective unconscious. Deciding to become a psychotherapist isn’t just a decision it’s part of my process of Individuation. I always knew I was an Introvert, but I didn’t know that Dr. Jung coined the term. Leslie told me early on that the answers to all of our problems were located in our unconscious. I nodded and I believed her but I didn’t think it would actually happen or realize the impact it would have on me when it did.
I feel like I’m part of a tradition. Carl Jung suffered a psychotic break when Sigmund Freud excommunicated him from the analytical community. Jung was able to heal himself by studying his Unconscious as it revealed itself in his dreams, paintings and visions. I, in turn, was able to heal myself (with Leslie’s help) by heeding what my Unconscious was trying to impart to me. I’m also a part of another tradition. Many of Jung’s patients came to him after having been analyzed and told him that they had figured out what they wanted to do: they wanted to be an analyst just like him. This happened so frequently that Jung would slap his head and say “Not another one!”
And so it goes. Not this, not that. Neti neti. Eureka! I have found it! What do I do to attain personal growth? I grow. I continue to reach for that which will help me to actualize my full potential. A potential that wasn’t met in working in the family business or selling pest control and definitely not in hiding away, afraid to go out into the world. I embrace the difficult and the challenging so I can look back and say, “I accomplished that. What’s next? Bring it on.”
Platitudes, Psychotherapy and Personal Growth: Finding Meaning in the Mundane
“What do you do for personal growth?” he asked me. I was at my third job interview at the age of 32. Not third interview for this job, mind you, but third interview of my life. I started working for my parents at the age of 14 and continued working for them for 18 years. I had a brief break my first quarter of college and for a few months when the entire family left cold, cloudy Cleveland for the sunny grand adventure of Las Vegas, where we would open a store and run it as a family. You would think I was brave, trekking across the country to face the unknown. But neon lights, burnished mountains and 110-degree heat had nothing on what ultimately claimed me—agoraphobia.
I’m not exactly sure when it started. Perhaps it was before we even left, as I was terrified of driving my car across the country. So we traded it in and took my then-husband’s car instead. And I didn’t drive again for nearly six years. There wasn’t a good reason for it, I just didn’t and no one really pressed me on it and so it was. When we bought a house, we chose one that was only a few blocks from my parent’s house so they could easily pick me up on their way to work. Then Jay or my sister would take me home from work. “Jenny doesn’t drive,” they would say. But that wasn’t entirely true. I had had my license since I was 17 and knew how to operate a vehicle. In fact, one night before heading home from work my sister got sick and asked me to drive us in her car. I was panicked and frightened and don’t think I ever approached the speed limit on the highway, but I did it. That was the only time. Well, the only time until Jay and I decided it was time to get a second car.
In 2003 we purchased the first brand new car either of us had ever owned. I don’t remember what the impetus was, only that it was to be my car to drive even if I was only going to drive it to work and back. And even though I had this new semi-mobility it didn’t cure me of my fear of going places alone. I didn’t do my own grocery shopping or pump my own gas and if Jay was with me, he was certainly the one doing the driving, not me.
Fast-forward four years in which we bypass my divorce, my first-ever sessions with a psychologist (who ultimately diagnosed me as agoraphobic), and a burgeoning new relationship with the man who holds my heart to this day. A wonderfully supportive man who helped me to take the first steps in my recovery and ultimately drove with me the 1300 miles from Las Vegas to Seattle (each driving exactly half of the 18 hour journey) to make a home and a life together. Isaias always told me I could do anything I wanted to do. It would take me a while to realize and eventually I did and am now reaping the rewards of that conviction.
Don’t think that I think of myself as some fairytale princess who just needed her Prince Charming to come and save her. My story is not that succinct. After my move I became depressed for the first time in my life. I had never been so far away from the family I was used to seeing every day and it was taking its toll on me. Once again I decided to seek therapy. My previous foray into psychotherapy was less than a success. I learned a few things, like how to “build on my successes” in terms of conquering my fear of driving. But over time I began to see my therapist as a parent-type and wasn’t being totally forthcoming with her for fear of being reprimanded like a child. I stopped going after just a few months. I found my current therapist through a referral from a friend’s therapist and have been seeing her regularly for almost three years. And she’s not just any therapist—she’s a Jungian psychotherapist. I don’t know why the fact that she was Jungian resonated with me. I certainly didn’t know much about Jung. I owned a copy of “Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious” but I had never gotten more than 20 pages into it. The referral list I was given had about 8 names on it. I called several and left messages for all and made an appointment with the first one who called me back. Then Leslie returned my call. I don’t know what it was about her but I knew she was the one. I made an appointment with her and called the first one back to cancel and I’m so glad I did.
My confidence in driving began to regress once I moved and I was scared about having to take the highway to a place I’d never been to meet a woman with whom I was going to share my most intimate fears. I don’t remember much except that she was very nice and welcoming and understanding. I had told her that I moved here with Isaias yet I felt alone because Isaias had family and everything here and “I have nothing.” She plucked that phrase and made it the focus of the session. Before our next meeting I was to make a list of “What I Have.” And I did. And with it came hope. It was the beginning of a beautiful journey that has brought me to where I am now.
“What do you do for personal growth?” asked my soon-to-be boss. I loved the question and I loved the interview—the most Zen, non-interview ever, of that I’m sure. I told him that I was a singer/songwriter/pianist and that I use music to express myself and attain personal growth. He told me that he had a master’s degree in counseling and I shared with him my experience of agoraphobia and recovery and that I was in therapy still working on it all. He told me what a mentor once told him: Pain is our birthright. We shook hands, said our goodbyes and I was offered the job a few hours later.
In the two years since then we’ve had the opportunity to “wax philosophical” on a few occasions. Most recently he told me of a Sanskrit phrase “Neti neti” which translates to “not this, not that.” He used it to illustrate how to describe what God is or what Love is—we don’t know what it is, but we do know what it is not. Neti neti. I didn’t know the extent of how this would resonate with me.
The New Year found me agitated and feeling stagnated. I didn’t feel like I was going anywhere with my life. Sure, my job paid well and I had learned skills I never thought I would but somewhere deep inside I wasn’t satisfied. Enter: Death. No, I’m not being emo and I didn’t attempt suicide or have a near-death experience. This is Death from The Endless. The sister to Dream, Desire, Delirium, Destruction, Despair and Destiny. The Death of the Sandman graphic novel series by Neil Gaiman. More simply, I changed the desktop background on my computer at work to an image of Death—a pretty Goth girl with a charming smile. Written on it was “You get what anyone gets. You get a lifetime.” The words haunted me. I found myself avoiding the text and her exuberant gaze. I had decided a year prior that I wanted to become a psychologist but I was just waiting to save enough money to go to school. But then there’s Death looming over me telling me my time will be up eventually. My 35th birthday was just two months away. I had no plans to go to school but if I didn’t go now, when was I going to go?
I had recently read an article on a blog called Zen Habits entitled “The World Needs You To Do What You Love.” It listed seven steps to get started on doing fulfilling work. Work doesn’t need to be boring and mundane. Work should be something you’d do even if you didn’t get paid for it. One of the steps was to make time to attain your goal. So I made the time to research universities and make education my number one focus. I have applied to a state university and will apply to a private university soon. I already have my graduate school picked out. I am going to be a Jungian analyst with a private practice.
Oh yeah, Jung. Dr. Carl Gustav Jung. Remember when I said that something about Jungian therapy resonated with me? At the time I would have said, “hmmm, that’s kind of strange.” But now I would say that it was me connecting to the collective unconscious. Deciding to become a psychotherapist isn’t just a decision it’s part of my process of Individuation. I always knew I was an Introvert, but I didn’t know that Dr. Jung coined the term. Leslie told me early on that the answers to all of our problems were located in our unconscious. I nodded and I believed her but I didn’t think it would actually happen or realize the impact it would have on me when it did.
I feel like I’m part of a tradition. Carl Jung suffered a psychotic break when Sigmund Freud excommunicated him from the analytical community. Jung was able to heal himself by studying his Unconscious as it revealed itself in his dreams, paintings and visions. I, in turn, was able to heal myself (with Leslie’s help) by heeding what my Unconscious was trying to impart to me. I’m also a part of another tradition. Many of Jung’s patients came to him after having been analyzed and told him that they had figured out what they wanted to do: they wanted to be an analyst just like him. This happened so frequently that Jung would slap his head and say “Not another one!”
And so it goes. Not this, not that. Neti neti. Eureka! I have found it! What do I do to attain personal growth? I grow. I continue to reach for that which will help me to actualize my full potential. A potential that wasn’t met in working in the family business or selling pest control and definitely not in hiding away, afraid to go out into the world. I embrace the difficult and the challenging so I can look back and say, “I accomplished that. What’s next? Bring it on.”
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