Dr. Lynda's

Mini-Essays

The Role Model

My 8-year-old eyes look out onto the world, my 6 year old ears listen intently – for this is how I learn. You see, I am not in control of what I learn; I am dependent on the adults around me. They will shape what I take in, how I feel, what I think about others, what I value, how I treat people and what is most important in my life. Just think of that power – it is so immense, so critical. It builds the soul of my little being and can take me on journeys of grace, love and happiness but also down the path of prejudice, hate and dishonesty. Every adult influences the makeup of a child. Some have greater ability to do so – a parent, a teacher, a coach, a minister, an aunt or uncle, even the President of the United States.

My childhood ears and eyes take it all in. I can learn to trust or not to trust, to expect love or to expect abuse, to value kindness or to value only myself, to be helpful or to be helpless, to be respectful or to demean and disparage others. This tremendous power is a gift but also an immense responsibility. Remember this whenever you are with a child or when children’s eyes and ears are open to learn from you. Remember this when your child is exposed to others who have power to influence them. For you are in control of the future adult-child and the path this child will take throughout life. This is real power – use it wisely.

The Therapist’s Therapist

There are times when it rumbles and bubbles up and just must come out.  No amount of mindfulness, self-reflection, deliberate distraction will suffice. You just need to share your feelings, those experiences that have caused you to question your world and secrets you must tell someone. You need an honest soul who will not only listen but will enthusiastically let you know that he “gets it”. Over time, you get to know him well as he injects his own life experiences that often mirror your own. He is a co-conspirator in tales of sadness, betrayal, and uncertainty – but also of joy, truths of the soul, hope and wackiness. He is a keen observer and I can also tell immediately if there is something amiss in his life. I think we are both open books in our combined presence. It is a place to admit vulnerability, to laugh at the silliness of life and to pose questions for which there are no answers. I see him once a month and often look forward to sharing a tidbit, putting it into my mind’s parking lot until our next appointment time. Yes, even the psychologist needs a therapist. Mine is named Matt; he cuts my hair.