Last night the tutor of the level 4 Counselling course FaceTimed our group to discuss if we wanted to move forward in our training come September.
She was pragmatic, cheerful and helpful
And She has given me quite a lot to think about today.
A day that I’m feeling rough after my fourth covid jab.
I’m 61 this year.
And I’m finding the rigours of nursing just a bit too much after forty years in the role.
I have a mortgage to pay for until I am 70 and bills and expenditure is on the rise.
And so I needed a plan.
And that plan, originally, was to retrain to be a qualified counsellor.
There is an outlay for this endeavour, which I may or not get help with,
There is the academic challenge too , as well, as I know I have to work hard to get on top of all things Uni.
But then you add to this all of the doubts of self belief
Can I cut the mustard as a counsellor?
Can I do it?
The “ new” tutor clearly outlined the “ checks” in the course that ensure you are fit for the role.
In all of the 100 hours skills practice I have to do with real clients I have to pay for intensive clinical supervision every month. More if I require it.
This supervision is not cheap and is an incredibly stringent safety check of my potential competence
Added to this in year one and two I will have to pay for my own counselling experience.
A journey which is necessary if you are to practice
But a journey which has its own worries and it’s own challenges.
There are two of us, in my present group that are older students.
Both of us on journeys we didn’t expect in our sixties.
We looked at each other at the end of last night’s tutorial and smiled gently together
“ Are you going for it ?” Donna mouthed
“I’m going to try” I mouthed back
And try I will
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/6drWRoC
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