One of my fellow co-workers asked if I would like to take a day trip to Kootenai Falls and a 500 year old grove of trees. Naturally, I jumped at the chance as I have been a little hesitant to go exploring far from Sandpoint on my own. We met at school and then Buck, Tom, and I headed out into Montana. After driving through endless miles of breathtaking mountainous landscape we arrived at the protected grove of trees. As we hiked around, under, and over the trees we started sharing bits and pieces of our life stories and the journey that lead us to Monarch. It did not take Tom and I long to realize we had quite a bit in common. We were both raised Roman Catholic with members of our families spending some time in the seminary and convent. We both had mood disorders marbling through our family history. We both had siblings with bipolar disorder and experience some sort of mood fluctuation ourselves. We started sharing books that made an impact in our life and talked about our experiences in relationships and our challenges with trust. 
We had stopped paying attention to where we were hiking and were pretty deep in the forest when Buck stopped leading us and motionlessly stared in front of us with his head cocked. He would go no further. Not ready for my first Montana wildlife encounter (i.e. bears), we heeded Buck's warning and turned back.
We grabbed a quick bite to eat in Troy, Montana and then headed to Kootenai Falls. The hike to falls was short, but included a bridge that passed over the railroad tracks and sure enough we experienced a train rushing past as we were a mere couple yards above it. Buck was not amused and had a lot of trouble with the open steps where he could see the ground below him. The water at the falls and through the river was this unbelievable aqua green and the rust colored rocks beneath the water made the most amazing contrast. It reminded me of the Caribbean Sea flowing through the Grand Canyon. The pictures do not do it justice. We sat for awhile at the falls and enjoyed the warm of the Indian Summer sun.
We continued to hike towards the Swinging Bridge, a suspension bridge that crosses the Kootenai River just below the falls. 
We encountered more open steps. Buck really struggled. At one point he crawled up about two steps and then stuck his head under one of the steps and would not budge. I felt horrible, but at the same time could not help laughing as he looked like a turtle. Tom decided to stay with him and I crossed the bridge. About halfway through I started to feel the sway and the old familiar fear of falling kicked in. All I had to do was look around me to realize how many beautiful things there were to distract me from a little swinging. I laughed to myself as I felt a little like Indiana Jones. 
Once I reached the other side and turned around I was surprised to see Buck at the top of the steps. It seems he just needed to make the climb on his own time, and terms (maybe he learned that one from his mom). I called his name as I got closer and he eventually crossed the whole bridge with me. I was so proud of my little pup for facing his fears. I also realized as I supported him through his fears, my own melted away. Something about being a parent I'm sure...
It was a great day for all of us. Fears were faced, doors were opened, and stories shared.
I am not exactly sure how many times I have been asked some variation of the question, "Wow, Michigan, so what were you running away from to come all the way to Idaho?" It is not only since I've been here that people have asked that, but also as I was preparing to leave Michigan those that did not know me well would ask that same question. I always found it troubling. I never felt like I was running. As I told a fellow therapist about this he was quick to suggest projection. It made sense seeing as there may be many people here that did run away to Idaho to escape something or someone. I however, did not ever feel like I was running. In fact, by strict orders from my physical therapist I have not ran, or jogged in long time, and it will not be happening anytime soon because it's pretty evident that it brings on radiating leg pain (thanks Erick!).
What came to me today was the thought that my only choice in this question is "running away." What about walking away? Or even better, what about running (or a brisk walk in my case...) towards. I decided to make them options and re-evaluate. I did not take me long to think of all the things I walked away from. I walked away from a lot of family and very close friends that live in Michigan and most likely will for a long time. I walked away from my back pain and everything that I had learned to associate it with. I walked away from my doctorate program. I walked away from a very promising position as a private practice clinician in a great clinic. I also walked away from a job in which I would spend most of my time sitting. In essence, I feel I walked away from what was leading to a very "comfortable" life. The odd thing was that the comfort scared me. I realized I was not ready to get comfortable. I wanted to try something new and I wanted to be more active in my job; I needed to be more active in my job.
What then did I run towards? I ran towards a place that when I first set eyes on it I was moved by its majestic beauty. I ran towards a job where my primary responsibility is to create a safe and loving space for 70 kids to grow and learn to feel their emotions. I ran towards a job where I have lost track of the number times my supervisor has said, "I want you to know how happy I am that you are here and a part of our staff. I don't think I can say that enough." I ran out on a shaky limb knowing that that is where the fruit is. I ran towards an aunt I always wished I knew better as I was amazed at our similarities. I ran towards my puppy, Buck. I ran towards the great outdoors. I ran towards the challenge of opening up and being vulnerable in order to make new friends. I ran towards the hope of inner peace.
At lunch on Wednesdays we have 20 minutes of silence to slow down, and reflect on what we are thankful for. All other meals we have about 30 seconds of silence. As the silence hits me and I ask myself what I am thankful for, without fail my inner voice says, "I am thankful to be here." As I thought about that on my scenic drive home one day, tears came to my eyes. I realized the "here" I was speaking of was not just work, or Montana, or even Idaho. I was speaking of being present in the "here and now" and not wishing I were someplace else. I was speaking of being thankful to be here, amongst the living in mind and body. In the last year I spent many days lost in the land of pain and pain medication wishing to be somewhere, and someone else. I am incredibly thankful to be here, now.
In short, I believe I ran towards being. I know this is a lot heavier than my previous posts, but I was feeling the need to clarify, for myself, and I guess whoever is reading. "Forward, forward, let us not disappoint the moon before us."
Well, I started work. Maybe you could tell by the fact that I have not posted in awhile. Work is...great. My sister once told me a story of a time when she was struggling with life and a doctor asked her what she wanted, or what what would make her happy, something like that. She told him that she wanted to want to get out of bed in the morning, she wanted to be happy to start her day and wake-up. As her story goes, this doctor kind of laughed, became patronizing and said something along the lines of, "Oh, Maureen, no one wants to get out of bed in the morning, we just do." My sister disagreed, and she persevered. I feel as if I have found a space in my life where I want to get out of bed in the morning. I enjoy the drive in as my time to relax, and straighten out my heart and mind before entering the world of 70 struggling, and hurting young adults. My drive into work is long, but it is so beautiful. I have turned corners and seen the lake stretched before me, or watched the mountains grow alongside me with the rising sun coloring the sky and felt tears well up in my eyes. Is this really my home? Is this really happening or am I just dreaming?
So what do I do at work? Well, first of all I am working at a therapeutic/wilderness boarding school for teenagers that are not making it at home. There are 70 students aged 14-18 and they have all attended and graduated from a therapeutic wilderness program. Follow this link to see an example. They have issues ranging from drug & alcohol abuse, to promiscuity, to aggression & anger, to skipping school with underlying problems of depression, low self-esteem, and anxiety. I am training to become a Peer Group Leader which means that I will be advising a group of students through their 18 month stay. I will talk with their parents, write a newsletter about their activities, process issues that arise, monitor and discuss their emotional growth and academic performance, and run group therapy sessions with students throughout the school. A large part of my job will also be forming a safe, secure, and healthy relationship with the students in my group, as well as all of the students on campus.
My main responsibility for the first few weeks is to form relationships and get to know the students. I've played beach volleyball three times this week! It's been great, it has also been a great way to start to get to understand the personalities of different students. We also have "work crews" which is a vocational aspect of the program in which we do work around campus. There are several crews: culinary, farm, construction, landscaping, garden, and forestry. I was on forestry and got to help build a bridge on a trail through campus. We were using axes and hatchets - it is such a great educational experience for these kids (and for me!).
Wow, there is so much more that I could write, but I think that this enough for now. The best thing about work is all the love I feel just being on campus. I did dorm checks last night and I completely lost track of time just talking with the girls as I said goodnight. I know it has only been the first week, but I am really happy to be working there. Buck is not as happy now that I am not his constant playmate, but thanks to a friend's recommendation (a new Sandpoint friend even!) to get a Kong, he is keeping occupied and not causing trouble. Dog-owners, if you have not heard of these, check them out. They are also a lifesaver if you just want some time away from your canine shadow. I have also been good about walking him before and after work, even if only 15 minutes. Good for him, even better for me! On Sunday he's going to have his trial day at work to see if he behaves. The students are really excited to meet him!
Next post I'll tell you about the northern Idaho version of a traffic jam...
One of my fellow co-workers asked if I would like to take a day trip to Kootenai Falls and a 500 year old grove of trees. Naturally, I jumped at the chance as I have been a little hesitant to go exploring far from Sandpoint on my own. We met at school and then Buck, Tom, and I headed out into Montana. After driving through endless miles of breathtaking mountainous landscape we arrived at the protected grove of trees. As we hiked around, under, and over the trees we started sharing bits and pieces of our life stories and the journey that lead us to Monarch. It did not take Tom and I long to realize we had quite a bit in common. We were both raised Roman Catholic with members of our families spending some time in the seminary and convent. We both had mood disorders marbling through our family history. We both had siblings with bipolar disorder and experience some sort of mood fluctuation ourselves. We started sharing books that made an impact in our life and talked about our experiences in relationships and our challenges with trust. 
We had stopped paying attention to where we were hiking and were pretty deep in the forest when Buck stopped leading us and motionlessly stared in front of us with his head cocked. He would go no further. Not ready for my first Montana wildlife encounter (i.e. bears), we heeded Buck's warning and turned back. 
We encountered more open steps. Buck really struggled. At one point he crawled up about two steps and then stuck his head under one of the steps and would not budge. I felt horrible, but at the same time could not help laughing as he looked like a turtle. Tom decided to stay with him and I crossed the bridge. About halfway through I started to feel the sway and the old familiar fear of falling kicked in. All I had to do was look around me to realize how many beautiful things there were to distract me from a little swinging. I laughed to myself as I felt a little like Indiana Jones. 
Once I reached the other side and turned around I was surprised to see Buck at the top of the steps. It seems he just needed to make the climb on his own time, and terms (maybe he learned that one from his mom). I called his name as I got closer and he eventually crossed the whole bridge with me. I was so proud of my little pup for facing his fears. I also realized as I supported him through his fears, my own melted away. Something about being a parent I'm sure...
