The invisible heavy lifting...

Sitting down to think about what I should write this week, I found myself confused. Substack has us believe that in order to be valuable here we just need to let our hands do the work on our keyboards and the rest is history. But what if I’ve momentarily forgotten what I have to say? I’m in my 43rd year and sometimes I have myself believe that I know absolutely nothing about this life and although I know this to be fundamentally untrue, it got me thinking about the difference between what we think is valuable and worth recording, compared to what is actually valuable, or what someone else needs to hear. If you’re still with me, what I’m trying to say is this:

how do we know the difference between what is actually valuable and what we merely perceive as valuable?

Whilst pondering this, I noticed that two of my recent Substack notes had been in some way about showing up - showing up as a mum and showing up as a professional for my clients. On the outside this seems like the very least we could expect of ourselves, yet in a world full of expectations, the last thing we sometimes notice is the choice we make every day to be present. After all, how many of us mums get up in the morning and congratulate ourselves for just showing up? I suspect most of us are instead running through the long to-do list for the day, or silently chiding ourselves for not being more organised the evening before. The emphasis in our minds is to notice the things we’re not doing first, and relegate the invisible heavy lifting to something less valuable. We focus on the deficit.

I feel it’s necessary here to admit that I do have the occasional whimsical thought of hiding under the duvet forever - I can’t state enough how much I love my bed - but I also unequivocally make the decision to do life. Even on the dark days, even on the days I don’t want to show up, I do, because I know from experience that my presence holds value even when I feel weak or ‘less than’. I’d love to say my children also find value in me regardless of how I show up, but like a lot of mums to young people, I can’t attest to that being true. What I can tell you though is that they would certainly notice in an instant if I didn’t and in fact, my own grandmother went to bed at 40 and simply decided not to get up again. I can promise you we noticed. Or, at least the thing I noticed was that I lost a grandmother before I was even born and I often think of this lady who spent the next 40 years passive to life; what must have happened to her before she decided that life was so heavy? Perhaps I’ll never know but what I do know is that I spend a large portion of my professional life working with children who have been chronically let down by the people around them. I share this not from a place of judgement but from a place of cheerleading for those who find showing up hard.

I’m here to say clearly, notice the things you are doing. Notice all the things you do first, before you think of all the things you haven’t done because I can guarantee you, you’re doing so much more than you think you are.

In my work as a supervisor, I’m often with counsellors who are training for a qualification, a tough process that is rightly becoming harder. It is not unusual for me to sit with these students, dissecting cases and working together to untangle what the client needs, alongside what’s going on for the therapist. It’s work I really enjoy, but there is often an undercurrent where the new and sometimes inexperienced counsellor feels not quite good enough. It’s not uncommon for counsellors to feel somehow that their training doesn’t really count or that they’re not quite robust enough for the career but what strikes me is that what happens in session, is not really about the model they’ve learnt but so much more about the relationship that they’re able to build with a client. A relationship that could not be built without really listening to what someone has to say is the absolute cornerstone of any therapeutic work. This may sound incredibly basic and obvious but listening is a skill to be mastered, it doesn’t require a diploma, a degree, or a master’s. It’s something that we nurture, a skill that we can choose to employ well, a gift that is priceless to the client sat before us. We forget that something seemingly small can change people’s entire perception of their lives because we take it for granted that a counsellor will listen or is listening. The relief someone feels when they’re truly heard is visceral, palpable and can cause an entire nervous system to reset. I often make a note to myself when faced with a counsellor fearful that their work is not enough to remind to say; Are you listening? Can you hear your client like you hear the wind in the trees, are you responding? Are you reacting to what they tell you, does their story reach you? That’s what can make the change, that’s the work we do.

In summary, for those of you who are doing well right now - congratulations. Sit with that for a moment and appreciate how far you’ve come. And for those who are low, please don’t overlook the small things you do each day that make a difference. The invisible heavy lifting counts. You’re doing so much more than you think you are, you’re worth showing up for. xx