Hope Yancey

My career path has taken a slightly different turn, for the time being anyway, from what I imagined when I was in graduate school finishing a master’s degree in counseling and development with a concentration in community/agency counseling. Back then, I had plans of becoming a college career counselor and completed all of my field experience, practicum and both semesters’ internship, in the career services office of a community college. It was important work, I felt, and I took some pride in the fact that the discipline of counseling had early roots in vocational guidance. It was also work I could relate to, having experienced a measure of career indecision throughout my adult life. I went on to receive the National Certified Counselor credential.

Every problem can’t be solved just by changing how you look at it. That would be an oversimplification of life’s gray areas, out of keeping with the realities of the world in which we must all live. Sometimes, though, choosing to see something a different way brings fresh perspective. There is a resourcefulness, beautiful in its simplicity, in this approach. I gather a lot of inspiration from nature. Take the lighthearted example of the sweet gum ball.

When I was younger, I had pen pals in countries throughout the world. I wrote to a Japanese girl whose handwriting was so neat you would think a typewriter or computer had produced it. In her letters, she tried to teach me some of her language, to no avail. She was a talented artist, too. I remember her correspondence often coming accompanied with colorful little drawings of ordinary objects in everyday life. I looked forward to those images.

The two stand with their backs to the camera, leaning into each other for support. In front of them, what’s left of their ruined house rests absurdly crumpled, more creases and folds in it than a piece of origami paper. Around them, bricks are scattered across what is now a driveway to nothing. A yellow shrub stands watch unharmed in the front yard near the devastation. You can’t see the couple’s faces, but you don’t need to. Their body language captures the essential truths their facial expressions must hold. You can imagine their pain at losing their home in the Christchurch earthquake.

It has been nearly six months since my father died, suddenly and unexpectedly, at age 67. Though I have been mourning in my own ways, I have not felt the need to seek professional grief counseling services. I know others who, when faced with their own losses, have found some relief through counseling and support groups. I would not presume to say that one approach is superior to the other; rather, I believe it depends on the person and their unique set of circumstances.