As a counselor, I have literally “sat
with” thousands of people over the past quarter of a century.
You know that old adage? “Be afraid.
Be very afraid.” Well, I can tell both professionally and experientially,
(though mostly the former) there’s plenty out there of which to be afraid.
Burglars. Snakes. Heights. Death.
Elevators. Murderers. Airplanes. Spiders. Surgery. Night. Public Speaking. Needles.
Clowns. Dreams.
Speaking of Dreams, in the last couple
of hours, I came face to face with what is perhaps my greatest fear, though one
of which I had given very little thought.
But to back up a bit, and provide you
some useful information.
My waking-sleeping schedule is all
over the chart. I often go to bed about 2am, sleep for a couple of hours, wake
up and walk an hour, head back to bed about 5am, sleep another 3-4 hours, and
start my mad schedule all over again.
Perhaps my crazy system of wakefulness
and sleepfulness, (or the lack thereof) in my latter years is responsible for
my increasing tendency to dream.
Speaking of my greatest fear, or very
near it, as I was “cutting z’s” a short time ago, I found myself doing a very
familiar something.
I was standing behind a pulpit, some
generic pulpit, somewhere, and I was in the process of delivering a sermon. And
it would be helpful for you to know that when I put together a message, I type
it out word for word, but speak it in a conversational manner.
As I was delivering my sermon, I
looked down at my manuscript, and suddenly realized it had changed, and I found
myself looking at several very unfamiliar pages of print, as though I had
ripped it from a magazine. And for the life of me, I could not locate the place
I had just left off, when I had lifted my head to make eye contact with my
audience.
As a result, I found myself begging my
listeners’ indulgence, and I continued to ruffle through the pages; to no
avail.
After I had done all I could possibly
do to locate my place, (though there was no longer any place to locate) I
apologized, and bid my parishioners a good evening. And very much like the
allusion in one of the Gospels, we “sang a hymn, and went out.”
Part 2
A fear of failure.
A fear of not being adequately
prepared. A fear of exposing my lack of preparedness, as the result of not
being adequately prepared.
I mean, I am the most structured
person I know.
I don’t do anything half way. Speaking
of my counseling practice, I have always devoted 20-30 minutes in preparation
for every one hour session. (And that’s an awful lot of preparing; given I used
to counsel 20-25 cases per week). And as I have implied, this is just an
example of my tendency to do what I do, as I have always believed it ought to
be done. I mean, my picture is next to the word, “perfectionist” in Webster’s
Dictionary.
And as you might imagine, I have
sometimes counseled people who exhibited much the same issue; (though
admittedly, there have been more who might be characterized as, “the lack
thereof”).
I have always told these, and all my
other clients,
“When you admit you have a problem,
you’re halfway to the solution.”
(and)
“When you make a decision to change,
you can see the finish line.”
Do I, (as we say in the counseling
trade) “present with an issue?”
To be fair, I just alluded to my fear
of failure.
As you might imagine, I encourage my
clients to brainstorm ways and means by which they might overcome their issues.
Have I brainstormed my fear of
failure, and a tendency to over-prepare for everything I do?
Well, yes. Yes, I have.
Forgive me. I have to go. I simply
must re-tweak next week’s sermon.
(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 75. By William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending.
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