For the considerable number of acquaintances and family members who never thought to hear me admit that I was wrong, I’ll repeat that.
All this time, I thought of myself as a human being. I was wrong.
I was a human doing.
In my adult life, I’ve been many things: daughter, granddaughter, sister, niece, aunt, wife, ex-wife, mother. Optometrist, Licensed Professional Counselor, writer, teacher, advisor. Friend, adversary, student, mentor, volunteer, colleague, supervisor, supervisee, boss, advocate, committee member, office holder, perfectionist, overachiever. Catalyst, irritant, critic. Tourist, retreatant, co-journeyer, listener, speaker. Avid reader. Supplicant to Saints Francis, Jude, Therese, Teresa and Michael the Archangel.
I could go on and on, as could those who know me, but won’t. You see the pattern. A human doing.
The truth? I am exhausted. And it is so very difficult to give myself permission to carve out a life as a human being. I have encouraged clients to explore their identities as a human being; I just haven’t followed the advice I offer to others for myself (I’m sure lots of you struggle with that same thing; those of us who are used to giving are not very good at receiving).
Human being. What is that? In the moment. Fully present. Silent. Absorbing. Listening. Open. At peace. Being emptied in order to be refilled.
So right now, I guess you could say I am a human becoming. A work in progress. Trying to find that precious balance between being and doing. Trying to remember that if I am not whole, then I will not be present for those most in need. I will not be the authentic Theresa that I was put on this earth to be. Not do.
A human being.