As the weather shifts into winter, I’m reminded of change and how it sparks life in me. I know many people do not feel the same way, but when life gets stagnant, I get a disquieting feeling. When I think of change, it sets off a series of feelings and emotions, I get excited about the possibilities and new options that lie ahead. It helps me look for new direction. Sometimes I simply take each opportunity as they are presented to me. Its a little bit calculation and a lot of “Hey Universe, what’s next?!” As I have been recently pondering, “What’s next?” I started writing about change and realized that the subject is way too vast for one blog. Therefore, I have begun the first part in a series, “Craving Change.” I hope you will enjoy it and please share your thoughts.

My first “real job” after college was working in a residential program with mentally ill adults. The career direction made sense at the time since I’d majored in psychobiology with a minor in communications. Who knew I would spend the better part of a decade working in the human service field from that one path I choose. It was an interesting time to be part of the mental health profession. In the early 80s, New York State started to downsize their psychiatric hospitals. (For example, Hudson River Psychiatric Center at its peak housed over 6,000 people, yet by the 80s housed less than 1,000.)  Many of those individuals had lost their connection to and support of their families and friends. They were all alone. Consequently, residential programs sprung up everywhere to help these folks integrate into independent community living. Mind you, not everyone in the housing programs spent a huge amount of time in a psychiatric hospital; the number of facilities simply grew out of a need when hospitals were downsized. The idea was to assist them in developing the skills needed to live on their own. It wasn’t surprising that many who lived most of their adult lives inside an institution could not handle their own home successfully. No matter how much assistance they were given, for a variety of reasons, they simply couldn’t deal with it. Talk about change! These individuals went from an environment where just about every task from getting up, eating, recreating and bathing was scheduled and dictated in a closed “secure” environment to a place where they could determine aspects of their lives with a little autonomy mixed in.

Some worked their way from a 24-hour group home setting with a high level of assistance and care to an apartment with 24-hour assistance, and then an apartment in the community with weekly support.  A few were able to make it into an independent apartment. The only help for an independent apartment was assistance setting it up and monthly check-ins for a year.  One huge barrier to a residential setting was all the rules. Many people simply couldn’t balance everything they were learning and living in close quarters with others. Moreover, add in their own issues while working within the structure of these programs (aka lots of rules) presented huge obstacles. To be honest, I am not sure I could have handled all the rules myself.

Interestingly, my first position was working with one of the original pilot programs to help individuals with their own independent apartment. During that time, I was establishing my very first own apartment too (sure, I had apartments in college with roommates but this was my very own). I had a lot of first hand knowledge and could empathize with the emotions that go with living on your own.

Although I spent almost a decade in this field working for two agencies, I moved from one position to another almost every year. Once I mastered a position, I got bored and restless. Lucky for me there was always a new opportunity for growth around the corner. Unlike my clients, and most people for that matter, I have always craved change. One of the gifts of craving change is that it enables one to see that there are always options. That very perspective helps eliminate a feeling of being trapped in a situation, which for me is a horrible place to be. By the end of my career in the human service field, I was working with individuals that were not able to live in a residential setting and had burned most of their bridges in the community. Some were living in abandoned buildings and cars. Most of the people walking into my office had exhausted all their options.

Throughout my career, I’ve known people that felt they had no options. All they believed they had was the life that was set in front of them. They were caught in a very negative loop and nearly all of their friends and family were caught there, too.  As a result, they never saw that positive change should and could occur. They had tools for survival but none for change.  I felt a critical part of my job was to show them that they did indeed have options. Sure, most of them were shitty but they had options nonetheless. The big secret I shared and sometimes successfully drove home was that once they started making their own choices (hopefully productive ones), more options open up and eventually some of them weren’t that bad anymore. Change is a long road and new opportunities gives life to more options. Unfortunately, most of the people that I worked with were stuck in their patterns but a minority did make some positive changes, which put them on a more productive sustaining path. They were no longer merely surviving. It is important to see the successes, no matter how few or small they may be.

By my mid-twenties, I knew I was ready for a change. I saw more pain, despair and suffering than I could shoulder anymore and I was loosing my idealism and compassion. I began a special summer environmental studies masters program at Bard College, it allowed me to work during the year and focus my studies during the summer. I was lucky to take a leave of absence from my position during the first summer. Crazy as it might seem, but studying the environment gave me back my humanity. I was not sure what was in store for me next but I had an intense need to focus and get intimate with a small piece of land. I had no idea what that would look like, so I applied for jobs all over the U.S. and volunteered locally at parks and preserves. I knew I loved being outdoors and teaching about the wonders of nature. I was excited to see what the Universe had in store for me.

(end of part 1)