Saturday Morning Thoughts

Listening to Martin Sexton, cup of coffee, and beautiful Fall sun outside- Saturday morning in Knoxville, TN.

I'm planning on heading in to my favorite Saturday cafe to be productive but feel some level of hanging out.

Here are my reflections from the week:

-Therapy is way harder than it looks.
-It's waaay harder to be in therapy, than doing therapy.
-Being open to change requires courage- alot of courage.
-Making changes in your life requires a plan, discipline, accountability, and humility.
-Making changes (even small ones) is hard.
-The support of family is incalculable.

Walk the Talk

I have not taken the time to unpack my mind in quite some time. I notice when my mind is full when at night I lie still and I can't put my finger on any one thing; it ill just stirs and whirs and spins. Stress. Stress I think is a biological catalyst of behavioral change. Time to walk the talk.

It is also time for bed.

Inertia and Momentum

Yesterday I finally cleaned my apartment. It's been on my list for quite some time. The principle of inertia is so soberingly simple: an object at rest will remain at rest unless another force acts upon it. And therein, lies the rub.
I mean that I'm always looking for inspiration; searching for motivation; looking for the ur source of productivity and creativity. We all know the stories about writer's block. When we are stuck, we need to move. Doesn't matter how far, fast, or what method you use. There's no secret other than movement. If you want momentum, you gotta create it.
Even if a stupid official took away a legitimate goal. No...especially because a stupid official took away an official goal.

Few Days in Wenatchee

It's Monday and I'm waiting for what I hope will be my last Greyhound bus trip ever (well, at least my last for a very long time). Last Friday morning I got on the Dirty Dog and made my way west here to Wenatchee to meet up with dad. It was actually quite the classic misadventure just getting on the bus here.

I have taken the bus from Moscow several times going westward toward Seattle, and in all those times, it has always left from a particular side of the Royal Motor Inn (which is it's own hilarious misadventure). So naturally, I assumed it would leave from that side again. It was a chilly early morning and mom and I just sat in the car catching up, waiting for the ostensibly late bus, when I saw it pull out onto the road from the opposite side of the motel.

I jumped out of the car, ran into the lobby, asked the woman if she could call the driver (to which she scowled, having, I'm sure, dealt with dirtballs like me many times before) and she said my best bet would be driving to the station in Pullman (seven miles down the road) to catch it. I jumped back in the car, updated mom on the situation, and she, in her bathrobe, put the pedal to the metal and we zipped off toward Pullman. We hit stoplights on red. We took a wrong turn in Pullman. Yet, just as I had resigned myself to having to call dad and let him know that I would be taking the 1pm bus (for which I was sure to have to forfeit my earlier ticket and buy another), arriving in the evening, we saw the bus station. The bus looked to be pulling out but graciously stopped at seeing us pull into the parking lot in a cloud of dust.

I grabbed my bags, ran at the bus arms waving, and to my pleasant surprise, the bus driver honored my frantic plea for help. He stopped the bus, got out, helped with my bags and very graciously listened to my story and accepted my many apologies. Classic. All that just to get on damned bus- I really do fly by the seat of my pants (which is really an awesome mental image when you really think about it). I need to work on that. I need to make sure I don't miss my bus this morning. I've still got an hour.

So I've been in Wenatchee for 4 nights and just about 4 days visiting dad. My vision and hope was to spend as much time outside doing active things as possible. We did that. After arriving on Friday, we went for a mellow tour of the town on bikes. Then on Saturday we went for a great day hike up off of Blewitt Pass (Ingall's Creek as I recall) on a beautiful 65 degree day- a beautiful drainage full of flowers slowly coming out of their buds and lingering snow on the peaks of the Cascades in the background. We put in a solid seven miles and it was a great day adventure. Then on Sunday we loaded up bikes and headed toward the lake town of Chelan. I had never been before and always have wanted to. The weather was a bit hard to read, it did rain a slight bit, but I was inspired and rode along the perimeter of the beautiful lake next to the vineyards, spectacular homes, and imagined I was in France on a time trial somewhere in the Alps- loved it. Dad, feeling a bit pooped and less open to getting rained on, was my saggin' wagon and followed me around the lake (ca 16 mile ride). We met up for a nice lunch in the intermittent sun by the lake in the tiny town of Manson. Then yesterday, we rode together from dad's place to Anjou Bakery- a great little European style bakery about 8 miles north of Wenatchee. The ride out there weaves through orchards and beautiful old farm houses and all on a peaceful little farm road. Dad wasn't sure that it'd be open on a Monday, but it was. We had a cup of coffee and the best cinnamon roll I've had in a long time. We had some great little adventures and a good time together.

Now I'm gearing up for a week in Seattle with friends before heading back to Knoxville. I'm excited to get to see so many wonderful people and spending time in one of the most magically verdant springtime places you can be. I'm looking forward to a fun last week of vacation.

Now where's that bus station?

Highlights of Two Weeks in Moscow

Been in Moscow for two weeks now. Leaving for Wenatchee on Friday morning. These are the highlights of my time in Moscow:

Martin Sexton- I guess this was technically in Spokane, but taking mom for a belated mother's day gift to this show was so great. To hear him live was such a treat.

Naps- I realized how sweet these little midday snoozes are when you really just don't need to be doing anything in the afternoon.

Movies- I have had a few late mornings that have entailed me getting up at 9, making coffee, and watching a movie. Ones to note: The Insider, On a Clear Day, Adam's Apples, Serpico, and of course, Iron Man 2.

Late Afternoon Runs- I bought new running shoes which is by itself always a nice boost of renewed motivation for running. But add to that having the freedom to run in the late afternoon (my favorite time) = optimal running enjoyment.

Time with People I Love- self-explanatory.

The Simple and Profound Privelege of Freedom

Fun Vacation Adventures

Yesterday mom and I rode bikes from Moscow, ID to Palouse, WA. We went through Pullman on the Chipman Biking Trail (7 miles) then followed Highway 27 north the remaining 14 miles for a grand total of 21 one way. Weather was great- blue skies, slight wind, and warm (got up to 80). We ended up at the Green Frog Cafe which is right in the "heart" of "Downtown" Palouse. For those of you unfamiliar with the tiny towns of the Inland Northwest- these quotes are clear indications of sarcasm. But this is part of the beauty and experience of a pure, still-ungroovy little town like Palouse. The cafe was pleasant, service warm, food decent, and coffee refreshing on a Sunday late morning. If you've never been to either Palouse or the Green Frog- go.

Today is Martin Sexton in Spokane. I am so excited for this. I am taking mom for her Mother's Day. Should be a good time.

First Week of Summer Break

I left Knoxville last Wednesday. My last day was a classic mad dash to get all of the details, paperwork, and lingering last homework completed. Classically, I didn't get it all done until two days later (last Friday). The first few nights I slept like balls, felt my usual traveling, restless road weariness, and blamed it all on not being fully done with my homework and lingering last bit of grading. I've been done now for almost a full week and I'm still struggling with long time traveling companion- sleep deprivation.

One of the upsides to having become so well acquainted with having to function while not feeling fully rested, is simply that I can do it. I know how to motor through. I know how to push past. I know how to keep moving. Problem is, I pretty much have to. I need to develop better sleep hygiene. Really I need to develop better hygiene across the board. Being a therapist in training- it has already become clear to me how critical disciplined maintenance is.

On this hygienic note, I should say that it's perfect that I'm sitting slouched in my chair, hair looking like I literally rolled out of my bed and into my chair (somehow managing to become clothed in the rolling out process), and my teeth feeling strangely sensitive in their new post-cavity repaired state. One of my favorite Zen-Buddhism one liners comes to mind- "the way you do one thing is the way you do everything." So pointedly and piercingly true.

I found out on Monday that I had four cavities. Now, I have, in 28 years of life, never had a cavity. This is has long been a source of pride for me. I tell people with a small smirk that I oftentimes only brush once before bed, don't floss, and yet have managed to achieve this seemingly incredible dental feat. I should also say that I don't eat much sugar and live an otherwise mostly healthy lifestyle. However, to follow the logic of my fave one-liner, I have always been someone who does just enough to get by. I fly by the seat of my pants.

It's not that I'm not capable of being disciplined or doing more than just the bare minimum. I think of another one of my favorite one-liners- "the number one rule of human behavior is that we things because we can". And on that note, I know that I do life this way not only because it's how I've done things for a long time, but (and as a part of how I'm sure it started in the first place) I've done it because I can. What the hell is my point?

I guess I'm realizing how for me it still takes being told I have cavities in my teeth in order to start flossing. It takes realizing how my sleeplessness is something rooted in my own poor sleep hygiene (not something that can be blamed on the unfinished business of school). I'm still a stubborn fart who has to be smacked over the head in order to wake up.

This all makes me think of yet another one of my favorite quips. This one is from the "Red Green Show". It's the man prayer:

I'm a man. But I can change...I think...maybe.

Sunday Morning

I'm sitting in my new desk chair, in my still new seeming apartment, looking out the two beautiful windows my desk sits in front of sipping coffee and sweating a bit- it's warm here. It's like 80 degress already. I didn't get up in time for Church this morning.
Last night I had a lot of fun with Aaron, who is a third year in the Counseling Psych program. He's a gung ho bundle of energy from Memphis and went to undergrad here. This means he knows people and knows his way around. Last night we were just gonna watch some hoops and drink some Guinness at this great local British pub. But as the game wrapped up, he said he'd heard that Donald Brown (internationally known jazz pianist and local UT Music Faculty) was playing at this cool, recently renovated Hotel downtown.

We walked to downtown in the wonderfully warm evening air (weather's been like 80's, windy, and just a little bit rainy- so the air's been super fresh). So we hung out in the lobby area of this circa 1900's, chic Hotel lobby space, under Chandeliers, and among some very finely (and funkily) dressed local folk. Donald wasn't actually playing when we came in, but he was watching and listening quietly at a table next to us. Various local artists were sitting in with the ensemble and taking their turn to showcase their improv skills. It was such a cool vibe. No cover charge- just music, beautiful jazz music. It was like we'd been transported to 1920's New York.

Anyhow, we stayed out just late enough for me to want to sleep in this morning. Though, I can feel that my body is tired from all of the ups and downs of this first year of grad school. I am so ready and grateful to have a chance to get back to Idaho, the Northwest, and spend good, rejuvinating time in the places I love with the people I love.

I'm looking forward to time with you mom: getting to see your new place (in Moscow and her house in CdA!). We always have such a good time. I can already hear the laughter, smell the cooking, and feel the burn from a good work out outside (probably gonna need to be a run- not one of your crazy early swims !?). I'm looking forward to seeing you Joel: hanging out teasing and laughing like always, getting to meet Mallory, and hopefully taking in some music (Martin Sexton man). I'm looking forward to time with you Dad: morning coffee chats, time outside in the woods hiking, and bbquing outside.

I'm so grateful I'll get some Seattle time as well. Time with Jens, Tina, and beautiful Osa!!! Olive- you too. Time with Fox. Time with Jonny and his cute little ones. Seattle in Summer with my favorite people- awesome.

Now time to finish the last little bit of homework.

Last Week of First Year

Last year at this time I was on a plane headed for a month to Oaxaca, Mexico.

Man that sounds nice.

But I gotta admit that I'm glad to be where I am- sitting in a quiet office in the Psych Building on a beautiful spring Friday. It's the end of the week, next week is the last of the semester and year for classes, clients, and responsibilities until summer term (June 3rd).

When I was in Mexico last year, I wrote myself a letter. We made our students at Three Rivers in Montana write a "letter to yourself" as a therapeutic tool and ceremonial object. It occurred to me last year that I should do that myself. I found it the other day while I was sorting through odds and ends in the process of moving in.

Here are a few things I mentioned:
-Live in a place that feels good and I can share with others (I'm hosting the first year party tonight)
-Be ready for the ups and downs of Grad school (check and double check)- and have some clear idea of my dissertation topic (wish i could say check)
-Be doing yoga once a week (I've done it once- does that count?)
-Have a sense of balance in my life (beginning to feel more of this recently)
-Stay in touch with the people I love (this one was my favorite- and I'd like to think it's a check)

Anyhow- it was just fun to stumble across that letter and think about how much can happen in a year.

What will the next one bring?

Blessings of the Basics

I just had a great weekend with Phil. We didn't do anything spectacular. We ate good food. We listened to local music. We rode bikes. We listened to more music. We drank some good beer. We played frisbee golf. We had brunch this morning in Market Square and watched kids, families, and couples walk around and enjoy the sunny spring weather. We had nice chats. Just the basics.

It was/is such a blessing to have a cousin who is my good friend and who lives "just down the road" as Grandma would say. Hard to believe that the next time I see him will be in June-Gabriela will be 2 and I will be a 2nd year Doctoral Student!!!!

Spring Explosion

Spring has sprung. Actually, I think exploded may be the more accurate verb. It's sort of unbelievable how fast it went from sort of chilly to quite hot. I try to pay attention to the elemental messages our Mother Nature sends us. I'll use my counseling skills of reflective listening to see if I can't capture what I'm getting: "So I'm hearing that you are ready to move on- to start a new season." Something like that.

Anyhow, while I do appreciate a smoother, more savorable seasonal transition, I'm digging this abrupt explosion. The bare trees out the window of my office are brilliant pink. The daffodils are everywhere. The birds are so excited. I'm hoping to take a cue from Mother Nature and get out there and get this last month of stuff done.

One month from today and I'll be back in the Northwest.

Old Idea, New Blog

It’s another Sunday morning. It’s gray, blustery, and surprisingly warm. Spring is slowly sliding in.

This whole last week I have been asking myself the question: How can I turn the challenges of grad school (i.e. loneliness, balancing work with play, deepening my spiritual life) into something more of an engaged exploration instead of the more disconnected and desperate survival that it seems to at least feel like? I know, these are the questions I have the time to actually craft and contemplate. Anyhow, I think that it’s a good question. And I think this (this writing) is a good answer.

This blog started out as such a wonderful way for me to not only share experiences with others while living with my grandparents last year (I should say here that it was Michael David Fox who literally pushed me to do this- thanks Michael), but to also personally process all of the things I was going through. I am really only now (first year of grad school almost over) realizing how shaping and impactful an experience I have begun with moving to Knoxville, TN to get my PhD in Counseling Psychology. I knew it would be a challenging, stretching, and transforming experience, and I have attempted (though quite sporadically) to share some stories, explore my struggles, and offer my insights somewhat. But, as mentioned, it’s been in my usual, sporadic, inconsistent, spur-of-the-moment kind of way.

To return to the original question: How can I turn the challenges of this grad school life into something of a more engaged exploration? This question makes me think of one of my favorite quotations (I think I remember it being attributed to Joan Baez): “Action is the killer of all despair”. While I know better than to think that simply writing in my blog on Sunday mornings will somehow magically make up for my lack of social life, release the stress of the week, and provide me with unlimited spiritual insight, I do know that it will help. In fact, I feel better already.

Welcome to “Getting a PhD in Counseling Psychology: One Graduate Student’s Story of Struggle and Growth”.