Making something

After two and a half years of a lot of work and a lot of student loans, I received my master's degree in pastoral counseling. Unfortunately, when it came time to find a job, the economy downturned into a recession, and of course, when times are tough, human services tend to get the ax. It took me almost six months to find a part-time, non-counseling position (it was a religious education position at a church), and then about two seconds after that for me to get pregnant with Eliza. I quit that job when she was three months old, vowing to get back into counseling and work toward counseling licensure when I decided to return to work.

These days I'm not thinking about returning to work, at least not in the immediate future. Money will always be a bit tight as long as I'm staying at home, but we're very fortunate that I am able to be here, where I want to be, with my daughter. But when I think about returning to work, I do not feel like I am being pulled toward counseling. Instead, my fantasies of work generally revolve around being creative, getting my hands dirty, making something. I think this is in part a reaction to all that "head work" of counseling and not being able to see any tangible results of your efforts, but also, I realize upon reflection that I have always enjoyed seeing the finished product. I used to work in textbook publishing, and I cannot begin to describe the thrill of holding one of my college-level finance textbooks in my hands. I helped create this very real object into being. I loved that feeling.

I feel drawn toward such work again these days. I am frustrated that I don't have an artistic or technical skill that I can showcase. I have visions of quiltmaking or sculpting in my spare time, and then selling my works for a little extra cash. Things like that. Perhaps this blog is growing out of that need to create, too. It's not tangible, but I can see that I have a dozen entries written now -- my work is growing and becoming something. That matters to me, even if I am the only person still reading this.

No matter where I go in life, I am grateful for my counseling degree, because I think it gives me a tremendous perspective on the world. Perhaps I will come back to that type of work when I am in a different place in my life. But for now, I don't have the energy to invest in my clients like I used to be able to. My energy stays here, at home, and the limited candlelight I have left must be directed towards people and passions I care about. I love my life, and right now I am looking to add the thrill of creating back into it.