I'm sitting here, studying, eating, taking pills and writing in this blog because I have a social work test coming up tomorrow. I'd originally had something I was going to post about hopeful things that have happened recently. Well, it got a lot long winded (longer than an essay I wrote for my Bible and literature class), so I decided that I wasn't ready to post it. In my experience, when things get that long, I need to take a good, long look at the writing before I put it out. So, this is my "Sparknotes" version, with random social work thoughts intersperced for good measure.
As I've dealt with all of the pain issues, I've learned that a hopeful attitude is incredibly important (some people claim it releases morphine-like chemicals if used right). I've been reading, recently, about burn out for social workers and other people who work in helping or health professions. It comes up in case studies we're reading for class, blog entries I read and the questions I ask myself when I'm between awake and asleep. So, I'm wondering how I can keep a hopeful attitude, even if I'm heading toward burn out. Or maybe it might be possible to keep a hopeful attitude and deal with emotions to avoid cashing and burning.
This week, I've had it hammered home that you can't always predict catastrophe. The people who died in today's plane crash couldn't predict that it would happen to them. If you're thinking that's not very hopeful, hear me out! They couldn't predict catastrophe, so why do I assume I can? Bad things are going to happen. I'm sure I'll have a client ly to me, cheat me, cuss at me, or even injure me. I'll have clients who refuse my help.
But if I thought that was ALL I'd do, I wouldn't even bother majoring in this field. I can't predict catastrophe. I'm taking great comfort in that. The people I'd like to peg with the "failure" label (which I hope I never do), could be the people who make strides. They may not be big, but I think it was Mother Theresa who said In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love." (Yes, it was thanks Google!) Anyway, those little things ae going to be what carry us through. Those little things will be the little drops of water that extinguish the fire of burnout.
I don't take comfort in the pain of those grieving those lost in the crash. I know that grief is painful. I pray for the people all over the world who suffer. It is for them that I must keep my hope alive.
And now, I must go. Studying awaits me.