It’s raining and I am running late. “Not such a good start to my exciting future,” I think to my self as I slosh through the rain, unsuccessfully avoiding the puddles to the office of the voice behind the notepad. There is one thing to therapy that everyone should know going in — it takes time. When you begin to scratch the surface it feels good. Like scratching an itch. However, a therapist doesn’t just want to scratch the surface, they don’t just want you to gain momentary comfort. They are playing the long game, you see scratching leads to digging which means pain comes before healing.  If you aren’t willing to ride out the process you won’t receive any of the benefits that come from therapy. Just ask my therapist, the voice behind the notepad. 

“Have you had a chance to look at the book I gave you?” The voice behind the notepad asks. 

“i have.” i respond suddenly shy and concerned as to what i wrote for my introduction.

“What did you think of it, what is your initial reaction?”

i hesitate in my response. i stair up at the (plant) and notice that a spider has taken up residence. It has spun itself a magnificent web between the woven ropes that are braided down into a bowl that suspends the (plant) in air. my mind wanders into another realm. ‘i wonder how long it took her to spin such an intricate web?’ ‘It’s her own garden of Edin.’ ‘Let’s hope there isn’t a serpent waiting to deceive her as well.’ 

Noticing my drift into realms unseen the voice behind the notepad clears her throat snapping me back to reality. i wonder how long i was gone for a brief second before i build up the courage and say:

“Reading it, writing my thoughts, thinking of my future, up until i stepped into your office, i was confident. Hopeful, even. But – but now i don’t know.”

 “Have it on you?” 

“Yes, do you want it or should i read it?” 

“You can read it.”

Opening my notebook i can feel my heart begin to race and my hands, although not visibly shaking feel as if they are trembling. ‘Why am i so nervous?’ i think to myself before taking a deep breath and reading my introduction. 

The voice behind the notepad sits quietly as i read. Surprisingly i am able to read it without too many pauses or nervous wavering. Although without a doubt you can tell I am nervous. my mouth is as dry as a dusty desert in the middle of summer. After making a few notations and thinking through her words the voice behind the notepad breaks the silence.

“This is a good start but I wonder if you have truly understood the cycle. That is your cycle. I can hear your understanding of the cycle itself and that is great but how do you see yourself in that cycle and how did it begin?”

i am taken back. Here i am as vulnerable as i have ever been. “i don’t know, i thought i was being open.” i say with hurt hesitation. 

“Let’s do this, when we last met you were telling me about your High School counselor and how he and his wife teamed up with their friend the elementary school principal. You were helping students in the first grade to read. Continue from there.”

The movie starring Adam Sandler, ‘Billy Madison’, was based on me. Not really but really. In the movie Adam’s character had to go back to school and complete the grades again. In my story I was put in first grade to help those kids learn to read. I did their worksheets with them and read with them and to them. I did this until the teacher in the class saw that I had an understanding. I didn’t know it at the time but they were all in on it. They would grade me privately and when they felt I was ready to move on, Mr. Peak the Principal would call me into his office and say, “I think you are doing a great job. You have a great ability to reach kids and help them to read. I need your help in this other class now. Do you think you can help these second grade students the way you helped in the first grade?” I was flattered. No one ever told me in school that I was a good student, let alone a good teacher. I of course said yes. 

This continued through all the grades. First through Fifth. By the time I was through all the classes not only was I confident in my ability to read, I was confident in my ability to teach and lead. While working at the elementary school I became friends with the custodian. We became such good friends that after I graduated from high school we continued our friendship. We hung out all the time and I essentially became one of his family. We started an intramural sports program at the school that lead to a intra-district league, of sorts. We did flag football, soccer, and basketball. It was a huge success and we both were recipients of a district award, “Teachers Honoring Excellence.” There was a district wide banquet and we were among three other recipients that year. It was a big deal. The banquet was complete with a dinner, then awards, followed by dessert and a reception. All done very well and I even dressed up! 

During this time I was still living in the canyon. I was torn between two lives. I wanted to be accepted by my friends but also I wanted to be accepted by adults in my life. This in-between for a young teenager can lead to an inner struggle of acting ‘cool’ and acting a ‘fool’. I had been smoking off and on since seventh grade. I did so in away that although my parents suspected it they could not prove it and I was not about to fess up. During my sophomore year I got reckless and one day I was smoking in front of my home when my parents were gone. One of my friends, we called ‘Red’ because he had red hair and red freckles, I know we were quite original, lived next door. Well, Reds mom saw me and told my parents what she saw. That Saturday as usual I left the house early to wash dishes at The Fort. Only after work I didn’t go home I went up the canyon to the park up the road from mine. I was in the home of a friend and we were smoking like a couple of chimney’s. When my dad knocked on the door and my friend opened it the smoke billowed out of the door like a three alarm fire. My dad simply said, “Get in the car.” My mom was riding shotgun, so I took my place in the back seat. My dad followed behind and took his seat behind the wheel. He pulled out going the wrong way. Instead of turning left down the canyon toward our home he turned right to drive further up the canyon. This was not a good sign!

A silent winding drive up the mountain to a pullout overlooking the canyon. We didn’t get out of the car which was a good sign. I was not going to be tossed off the cliff this day. Instead I got a good talking to about choices and life and the future. My mom announced that she would be quitting her job and staying home. Which she did and took up sewing scary clown dolls for a company that paid her every time she mailed in a dozen. That is until she tweaked the design and made her own scary clowns and sold them at the flea market. I also sold her clowns to some of the older teachers and staff at the school. Another successful sales job. My mom quitting her job meant that my dad would take on another job. This one on the weekends. I didn’t see my dad much after that really. I mean I did and we still did stuff but regular day to day living was just me and my mom. This lasted through the winter months. Once spring came around my mom felt I was in a good place and decided to go back to school to become a cosmetologist. And she did. After passing her boards and getting her license the owner of the school where she graduated asked if she would like to be a teacher. She went back to school and got another license and was teaching cosmetology. My dad did not quit working weekends. As a teacher my mom taught Monday through Friday and a special class on Saturday. I was truly on my own. 

i look at the voice behind the notepad. Disheartened, i say, “This doesn’t sound bad at all! None of it does. What is it that i have become, no, how did it happen that it has become necessary to be here.” 

She pauses a minute, “Everyone is different, this is your brain attempting to rationalize your circumstances. It is also a veiled attempt at comparison. One thing you must come to grips with is that you are here and that you are here by your own life choices. Good and bad or indifferent to anyone else. This is about you.”

“i was so confident walking in here today. i was excited to take this journey. But now after hearing me talk i feel like such a failure. Not just that i failed God, but my parents, my family, and myself. i let everyone down. i took a good life, a good upbringing, a good faith, and a good work ethic and i buried them.” 

Here I was when I realized this is my life cycle. I was living it even in this moment. I was confident on the outside to hide the insecurity that raged within me. Was it all from my elementary school teachers? Was that the core of the issue? Certainly there is more! Was it the lack of deep friendships? Which is a result of moving around so often as a kid? That is until my major adolescent years which were stable in one place. Although, I was a constant, there was constant change around me. Families came and went. New faces every summer. There was a core unit that lasted my seven years in the canyon but it still made it hard to attach. Who was leaving next? No one really knew. 

Was it that I was so dependent on myself from an early age that I could never really let anyone else in? The questions swirled in my mind they were new and yet they were the same old tired questions; and they were constant. Like deja vu, it felt like a familiar place being experienced for the first time again. An endless loop of discovery that ends up in the same place. 

“Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” This is the message taught by Paul to the Philippians. Just a portion of chapter 12 verse 12, spells out where I am right now. It is in fact were everyone should be . . . working out your salvation with fear and trembling.

Telos is a Greek word that like many words has several similar meanings. All of which reflect on the end, the end of something, its end goal, a comparison of ends. A reflection on what should be the outcome of a thing. Aristotle used Telos a lot in his philosophical musings, here are two of them: “Everything has a Telos, its final cause, which defines its nature.” And, “For humans, the Telos is living a virtuous life leading to flourishing happiness.” 

The Telos of the gospel is to be like our Messiah. Paul writes, “Imitate me, as I imitate Messiah.” There isn’t any hidden secrets here, no word play, no super deep spiritual meaning waiting to be discovered. It is simply to imitate Messiah. We work out our salvation by imitating our savior. When we go off course, He corrects us, we adjust and grow and move on. 

“Telos is a great word. A good place for you to stop awhile and ponder.” The voice behind the notepad says. “Next week, pick up there.” 

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This has been an excerpt from a book I am writing based on true events in my life. The working title is “my life in parables”. I chose to share this part as it fits well with the writing prompt. If you made it this far thank you, also, as a reminder this is an unedited version. Still, your thoughts are encouraged.

You are loved,
cj