Sometimes I wonder what I would have wanted to be when I grew up if I hadn't wasted imagination on a hypothetical marriage. (At this stage of my life, I do not regret the marriage-that-might-have-been, but I do regret putting myself in a holding pattern waiting for what a Calvin professor once called "the prince in pink tights.")
Lately, I've been thinking about counseling, about how I have family in the field and how many people are hurting and how many counselors in my area are men and.... Well, I am sure there are many, many wise men who do not say things like I was told in my one and only counseling appointment I went to, back when I was in the middle of a depression--something along the lines of "I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you're a beautiful woman, and you might try wearing a little make-up because that makes a big difference to a woman." (Actually, I DO mind, I'm just not saying anything because I'm in shock that you as a counselor have never had any training on how thin the line is between compliments and sexual harassment when you're talking to an emotionally vulnerable person behind closed doors.)
Today the Harvest secretary sent out a link to a counseling certification program that opens in mid-September, and it takes a full year and it would be another evening out of my already crazy busy schedule and the year has been So Full and what would I do with a certification, anyway, really, and by no means do I have it all together myself, and....
I still find myself intrigued.
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