Three months ago I landed a certain job in a certain field to do with my degree. I had never been to a counsellor in my entire life. I didn’t think I was the type of person who needed, or would ever need, a counsellor.
One month ago, I had been to not just one counsellor, but two. It’s not as big a deal as I thought it might be. Just another fact of life. Mental health impacts physical health, and vice versa. We have doctors for physical health, so why not counsellors for mental health?
Yesterday (at the time of writing this) I resigned from my job. But I’m not going to focus on that. It’s a long weekend. I have three days until I have to be back at work. I’m out visiting family in the country, near the mountains, and it’s exactly the sort of therapy I need at the moment. I’m lifting up my eyes to the hills. Spring is here, the air is crisp and the sun is warm, and it’s glorious.
I went for a walk earlier. There was green grass. Blue sky. A stiff breeze. A seemingly endless gravel road beneath my feet. One or two farm trucks, but that was about it, traffic-wise. Some good music and some better birdsong.
The view ahead was gorgeous. The view to one side was full of gambolling lambs and staring ewes.
The view to the other side? Hmm. Not so good.
Storm’s a’coming – literally and metaphorically. I just resigned from my job, after all. But it’s not coming for a while yet, and there’s more than a sliver of silver lining.
I can’t outrun the storm. But I don’t need to. I put my trust in something greater than myself, something greater than corporate office job security, something greater even than the mountains on the doorstep.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. – Psalm 121:1-2
I like it here. It’s peaceful. My thoughts have quieted now that I’m away from town, away from work, away from the daily grind and the busyness. I’ll have to think about what the future holds. Plan where to go from here. But not yet. I’ve got time; I’m not stressing. Que sera, sera, and all that.
Sometimes therapy is as simple as a walk down a country road.