For what it's worth

I have gradually figured out that I was trying to change vocations, when the vocation as priest has been central all along.  The letters after my name do not matter.  I will keep the CADC because it allows me to maintain liability insurance and signals my interest in assisting those struggling with a range of addictions.  Even though the addictions field has more letters than any other.  I mean: IAODAPCA  (really).  I even know what each letter stands for :).  For what it's worth.  And this is worth a lot. 

For what it’s worth

And it seems worth

A lot

I find myself

Subtracting

And subtracting

Letters after my name

So the letter politicians

Cannot claim me,

Decide my place

In the system of mental health.

I have reclaimed the Church

As my primary home

Its letters and substrates

Its seeming silly ways

To rename basements

And vestibules

Its way of determining

Every single person

A Child of God

No matter what diagnosis

The letter politicians claim,

No matter what.

For what it’s worth

And it is worth more

Than I could ever ask

Or imagine.

Envy

I have been struck recently by the "if onlys."  I do not usually think of myself as an envious soul, but there it is.  The clarity I have prayed for is...well... clearer.  I stand myself next to others and feel myself a pale comparison... yet I also know, thanks to this God-given clarity, that I am doing what God would have me do, that I am offering what God would have me offer.  It is still all-too-easy to be envious of the stature others have gained.  Still the Star shines, and sometimes I even see it, and know I'm slogging in the right direction.

My eyes

Hold hazel

With a hint

Of green.

In the newfound clarity

I see myself a pale comparison

And yet

And yet

I do not really want

To be like them.

Not really.

Still my eyes give me away.

I read biographies,

The letters added to names

Before and behind,

The volumes published.

Even with this hint of green

I continue subtraction

This resolute subtraction

In God-given clarity

In the darkness so deep

I slog as though

Through mud

Still

The light of the Star

The darkness does not overcome it

Even now

My eyes hold hazel

With a hint

Of green.

And still the Star

Shines.

Autumnal reflection

As I drop letters after my name, I feel strangely lighter.  My beloved and I joke about what it will look and sound like when only a breath mark remains.  I don't know what other couples talk about over breakfast, but this is one of our conversations.

As leaves fall,

Chill arrives,

It seems right

I continue the process

Of subtraction:

Certifications

After my name,

Recently acquired certifications,

Are the first to go.

The degrees were earned

And paid for,

They can stay

For now.

Soon enough

They too will go.

I imagine one autumn

My family name will dissolve

Letter by letter

Until only the name

God recognizes

Will remain.

Until finally

Even those letters will disappear

And

I am named

As breath in…

Breath out…

Then words

Will have done their duty.

I meant to call you

I like to learn new things, new perspectives, new translations.  This does not mean that I need to do everything myself.  My beloved tells me it is possible to live some things vicariously.  I remember that I used to be a Vicar in a small parish.  It sounded quaint and rather British.  Now I am without such a title.  I have added more letters after my name since then.  And now, six years out, I consider dropping letters. I am no longer a vicar, but I consider the possibility of living some things vicariously.

Workshop upon workshop,

Training upon training,

The letters string after my name.

I learn good things

From each.

I also learn

What I do not wish to do.

It is possible

He says

To live some things vicariously,

To learn things

From others

Without doing them

Yourself.

At lunch last week

A friend said

I meant to call you

When I heard you were involved

In one more training;

I should have called you

And said

Whatever are you doing?

Ah perhaps she should have called.

Perhaps

I may have listened.

Perhaps.

Q

Coming out of today*s Domestic Violence training, I caught the end of NPR*s Day Six program.  Apparently a proposal has been made to change the point values of particular letters.  Except I only heard the end of the report.  I wondered all the way home about the fate of Q.  Thank God for Google.

A proposal has been made

To change the scoring

In Scrabble:

75 years old

And counting.

Z would be demoted

To six points,

X to five.

Only Q

Would stay the same

The prized letter

Among all letters.

Q

The Source letter

For a primary document

Still to be found.

Q

The all-knowing Being

On Star Trek

Next Generation

And beyond.

Q

The prized letter

Among all letters,

Particularly when it lands

On the triple word score.

Letter police

Now I am listed on an official therapy website.  Ironic that it is the community college certificate which enables me to do this.  I use the LPC in my volunteer work, but not out of my office at church.  I have an official supervisor at the volunteer site, but the person who was my supervisor is now someone with whom I consult.  I am not marketing myself as a licensed anything.  I do counseling and spiritual direction and consultation.  For those who don*t understand the Sardines reference: it is a game in which the goal is for everyone to find the person hiding and cram into one location.  The game ends... when everyone is found.

Now I am safely listed.

The letter police cannot find me

Anywhere.

I have a supervisor

For my volunteer work

And

A consultant

For everything else.

Everything I do

Counts as something.

It always did anyway.

Now I use particular letters

In particular places.

I re-learn

The lay of the land,

The boundaries and borders,

The places the grass grows

And where it lies

Fallow.

This is a different game

Of trick or treat,

Or maybe

Hide and Seek.

I*d much rather play

Sardines.