I started a new job on Tuesday. It is a clinical position, which will allow me to use my counseling skills to serve people who have substance abuse problems. Before I left the house on my first day of work someone asked me if I would haven an office or a cubical. Without giving it much thought I stated that I would surely have an office, explaining that for clinical work a cubical does not have adequate privacy especially for conducting counseling session. I was wrong; the therapists each have a cubical in one large room where we all conduct individual counseling sessions (actually, at the current time I am sharing a small cubical). I remembered my office in Philadelphia where the walls went all the way to the ceiling and I could close the door, and even turn on a little sound machine that made white noise making it more difficult for anyone standing outside the door the listen in on the content of a therapy session. After a nostalgic moment, I thought of my therapy situation in Haiti, when I had a tent and tried not to do play therapy when the older children were at recess because if I did I would have to constantly ask the older children not to watch through the tent window. When I did not have the tent, which occurred when I first started doing play therapy in Haiti and again after my tent fell down, I had to find a space in the containers which rarely provided the ideal space or the privacy I wanted and were often very hot. If I compare my current work situation to what I had in Philadelphia, I will only feel frustrated, if on the other hand I compare it to Haiti I will feel grateful. So many things are like this.
Today I went to a Haitian Creole Sunday liturgy here in New Orleans. Although I am from time to time listening to daily news in Creole through the internet and reading things written in Haitian Creole, I think I am starting to lose a little bit of the language. I feel like I worked so hard to learn what I know, even though I am not quite fluent, that I want to try to maintain the skills I have. A toddler was looking at me during mass, and I played peek-a-boo with her for a moment. She reminded me of the little ones at Kay St. Anne. When I knew the to a couple of the songs during the liturgy I felt a real sense of joy, as I sang along (although not too loudly of course since I don't sing well in any language.)
In general I am doing quite well. There have been many things to adjust to as I have been transitioning in so many ways for quite some time now. On Christmas day my maternal grandfather passed away. I miss him a great deal and am saddened by his loss, and am very grateful for the gift of having known him.
Certainly 2011 for me a year with a lot of loss and so many funerals. The cycle of life we see everywhere, and the paschal mystery shows that dying leads to new life, death to resurrection. So, I begin this new year with a sense of hope and a sense of gratitude for all that I have, for all those I know and have known, and for life itself. Haiti certainly has taught me not to take anything or anyone for granted and witnessed to me that it is always possible to have a sense of hope and joy.
Happy New Year!
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