Kathy Renfree

I have been baking cookies these last two nights. This is very typical for me at this time of year. I remember as a young child, around five or so, helping my grandmother make sweet bread and kolacky. I can vividly see her strong hands kneading the dough, over and over. Those very same hands would gently rub my back before bedtime, of course after milk and treats. Today, as I cut out snowman, with their armless bodies, and snowflakes begging for decoration I thought about the power of memories. As I placed the star cutouts, and watched as some of their reaching points turned, I recalled a vacation by the sea and the waving starfish-saying hello. For each year that I have baked, it has marked moments in time. I realize baking became a way to create a snapshot of my life and the people in it.

I watch Glee. I have watched the show from its very first episode last year and I believe Glee is socially relevant in many ways. I will say the show brings to light many issues and experiences that either most of us had or knew of during our high school years. Many of those experiences were painful, many happy. It certainly depended on so many variables and whether we found a niche – a group of people that we could relate to and feel like our true self. Glee has tackled many “hot topics” and last week’s episode was especially powerful and respectful as it focused on Kurt, who is proudly out, but feeling very alone, until he finds a friend who affirms him.

Lately, I have been feeling somewhat helpless in my role as a counselor. Sometimes, I think I don’t have what it takes to be effective and supportive. Sometimes I think that I have forgotten all of the things I learned. Sometimes I feel like I am not able to connect to clients. I would say that this belief circulates every year or so. When it does, it can ride roughshod through most aspects of my life. I often reflect in order to make sense of the overpowering waves of feelings that appear when I feel helpless. In my reflection, I usually find that when I feel helpless, it is in direct correlation to how much self-criticism I am piling on.

I love September and October – the colors of orange, yellow and red on the trees. I like sleeping with the windows open and hearing the temperature slowed chirp of a cricket and maybe the occasional hoot of an owl. All of these things are a welcomed departure from the fevered pitch of tree frogs and midnight muffler less motorcycles. The air smells different, with a hint of drying leaves, the last tomatoes, crushed marigolds and surprise green bean or two. If I had a choice, I would keep autumn all year long, a lovely balance of day and night, bright sun, beautiful moon, plus chances to drink iced tea and hot cocoa all in the same day. Lurking just around the corner though… is that time of year. What I am referring to is the cyclical harbinger of doom for many of my clients.

I try, most days, to go into work with anticipation of the stories I will hear, and the emotions I will share in. That, I think for me, is what keeps me coming back. I feel that each session with a client is another chapter in a rich and powerful life novel. Fiction? Non-fiction? Sometimes I do not know for sure. I believe that we all tell stories about ourselves that might not always ring true in every sense of the word. But, whether or not it is fact or fiction, the stories allow both the author/client, along with the listener/me, an opportunity to try on different ways of being. I believe when this occurs, that the formation of the true self begins.