And, so it begins …

The first day of the next part of my life as a therapist.

I am something new today; a licensed mental health associate. Titled. Official. Credentialed. And yet, still me. Still Amy Anne. Still a daughter, sister, mother, friend, healer, follower of Jesus.

It feels a bit like waking up on your birthday. You wake with some awareness that you’re now a year older. And of the day’s demarcation between what was, what is, and what is to come. On one hand you recognize it holds weight, import. Yet on the other, it’s easy to dismiss because you don’t really feel any different than you did the day before. For the most part, your life feels the same and involves the same routines, rhythms, and relationships. You might think about what the next twelve months will hold … but then you roll out of bed and get caught up in your day. If you’re fortunate, you have people in your life who help you pause, reflect, and dream.

But this feels a little different. More portentous. The beginning of my private practice feels like the marking of what the last four years has held (really, the last ten): finishing grad school, completing internship, and a certificate in trauma care. In addition to the end of my schooling, there were major transitions in my family and in my work as I transition out of my current job into a role as the director of a non-profit counseling center and a therapist. I’m saying goodbye to a phase of my life that has been transformational in all ways. The beginning of my private practice feels like taking a deep breath and turning the corner into what’s next.

It feels like hard-won hope, faith, and love. Awe and gratitude.