I have this irrepressible urge to help other people. I think it must be one of my coping strategies, although it’s always been the case. I am forever connecting people who I feel might help eachother out, Rich did this too. He was a pro.
Right now, I’m pretty sure that helping others comes from the fact that if I am helping someone else, I don’t have time to stop and think about helping myself.
But perhaps it goes deeper than that – perhaps helping others provides some kind of spiritual healing – by helping others I am actually helping myself…. I’m sure there’s something in the Bible about God rewarding those that help others… and then there’s the one about the Good Samaritan.
Reading back over one of my previous blog posts, People Stop Telling you Things, maybe the main reason that that irritates me so much is because if people stop telling me things, there is less I can be distracted by and so I have to focus on myself, which is in that ‘too hard‘ pile.
However, I think I might finally be ready to talk about me. I’ve spoken to a couple of amazing women this week and they concur, this is a good idea. One of these ladies is the person I want to be when I grow up. She is beautiful and sassy and spiritual at 72 and says fuck and buys clothes from charity shops and believes in Jungian Therapy and mystery. She speaks Italian and asks personal questions and wears jewellery bought in Beruit. She’s my new esoteric friend and we have a little mutual admiration society going on.
Another of these is an old school friend of mine. She has also been in therapy – she has been let down, hurt, betrayed, but largely through yoga and meditation and sea and sunshine she has found a way through the heartache and is now at peace with herself.
She lent me a book. I’d love to dive in straight away but it’s a 12 week course so I am going to think carefully about when I can realistically commit to it: The Artist’s Way – A Course in Discovering and Recovering Your Creative Self. How good does that sound? I’ll add it to my ever burgeoning collection…. A collection which as of yesterday includes ‘Everybody Died so I Got a Dog’, a book by Emily Dean I’ve actually been meaning to read for some time….. sounds cheery huh?
But I digress, story of my life. Here is what I am going to do.
I’m going to follow up with a recommendation I have been given for a counsellor and I am going to book a session. I’m going to email her. Today.
Rich saw the in-house counsellor at the school where he worked. He wanted this man to know about his cancer journey and our family and what was likely to happen to him. He wanted to do this so that if the boys ever wanted to go and see this person, there would be some common ground and some depth of understanding.
I think that if I take a leap of faith and go and see someone, then it’s a good example to set to the kids. It says to them – it’s ok to feel confused and hurt and angry and alone and it’s even more ok to find someone to talk to who is qualified to help navigate the maelstrom of emotions. Maybe if I overcome my scepticism, my fear, and take this giant leap in to therapy, it might help me vocalise my pain, share my anguish and ease my despair, but more importantly, it might help them with all these things too.
You see, there I go again, helping other people.
But at least by putting my oxygen mask on first, there is some hope for us all.