Mr. Joyce Takes on the World

I never pictured how I'd feel at different ages. I remember once my mother said to me, “You’ll be twenty in the year 2000.” I turned twenty-one that year, and it didn’t feel any different than the year before. I feel like the most recent birthday that felt any different to me was last year when I visited Winchester Cathedral and the Mary Rose. Prior to that my birthdays from age twelve to the present were largely unremarkable. I want them to be remarkable, but I think that once you get to a certain age they cease to feel special. Maybe it’s the lack of presents, or the lack of fanfare. For me, birthdays are difficult. I’m often reminded of what I’ve lost or speculate on what could have been.             I’ll turn forty next year, which scares the hell out of me. I feel like I haven’t done much in the decades I’ve been alive. It wasn’t until I started traveling that I felt like I started to do much of anything. I’ve always...

One Year After It’s been a year since my work with Julie ended. Yet, it feels much longer than that. Much has happened since then…more so than I can detail here. You’d have to read previous blog posts from the past year to catch up. Instead of a list of misfortunes, and minor victories, I’m going to reflect on where I’m at since therapy ended. I feel that in some ways I’m better. But, there’s still a lot of work to be done. I was under the misapprehension, when I began therapy, that it was a cure all. That one would be completely perfect after the therapist finished their work on the client. Truth be told, that’s not how therapy works. The client does all the work, while the therapist acts as a guide. The client must commit to the work outside of the office. The office itself is a place where ideas are spoken, but the actions of the therapy are committed in the world outside. I have always taken the lessons I’ve learned from therapy into the world around me. Julie would b...

One Hell of Hero I was talking with a new co-worker about Dr. Who. I had mentioned to her that I visited England last year, and would return this year. She got a bit jealous, and then said, “Your parents must have left you a lot of money.” Honestly, it’s not that expensive. If you know the right websites, and book during the right time, it’s very affordable. I knew she was joking, but hearing it triggered something. I calmly said, “My mother didn’t leave me any money.” That’s not entirely true, as she had some pocket change, but that was about it. I didn’t keep that money for myself. Instead, I spent it to buy Yesterday some cat food. It still feels weird not to buy her food, though she’s been gone since February. My co-worker looked at me, and saw how serious I was. I then said, “My mother passed away last year.” “Really?” “Yes, she did. July 26 th .” “Oh, my God. I feel like a dick. It had to be on my birthday.” “It’s okay,” I said....

Fairness Sometimes I'm not fair. For as selfless and giving as I am, I can also be selfish at times. For example, I know a young woman that I care for deeply. She's currently in a phase in her life where demands on her time are many, and free time is scarce. So scarce in fact, that she's living a semi-cloistered life as she takes up her studies. At first, I felt snubbed. I thought, “What's taking her so long? Why doesn't she have five minutes to write to me? Did I do something wrong? Is it me?” I then realized that I wasn't being fair. I wasn't being sensitive to her needs, or her time frame. I also wasn't being fair to her struggles. Where she is now, I once was. Sometimes, I'm still there. Sometimes I forget what hurdles I've had to overcome just to function in daily life. Maybe that's a defense mechanism. If so, it's one that can distorted reality. I need to replace it with a mechanism of compassion, in...