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Excerpt:
Tomorrow is August 12, 2037. My name is Chad Owens and I am retiring from a forty-year career as an Alcohol and Drug Abuse Counselor. Although thankful for my success, my plan was to retire by the time I turned fifty, but that didn’t happen. The plan in my life was to make a living being a writer or a musician. Tomorrow, I assume they will have a luncheon and give me a token gift, as most companies do; that’s okay with me. The company has treated me very well over the years. I sit in my living room this evening, in my favorite chair, looking out into the night feeling blessed. Sipping warm milk, I have to say I am content. Most of my life I’ve been a counselor by trade, but am also a writer. This craft I’ve practiced all of my life. Fortunately, I embarked on a decent writing career late in my life with poetry, short stories, and several novels under my belt. Another blessing has been that I am an active and healthy sixty–seven year old man with a wonderful wife, stepchildren, and grandson. A regret however, is that I have spent the last forty years in this field without intending to do so. Hell, I just fell into it. Growing up I remember daddy wearing a suit every day to work and I knew I didn’t want a job where I had to do the same. Most of my life I’ve sported long hair, although not always this grey, and I never paid much attention to what I wore. Mom was an addict, as was my brother. Dad was a co-dependent enabler who turned his back on every problem within our family. At work, he faced problems with bravery, not being scared of any situation the business world threw at him. Other than that, he had a living problem, that being he didn’t know how. This is why I say I fell into the field. In my experience as a counselor, people raised in dysfunctional families fall into careers such as counseling, never choosing it; it chooses them. I went to college at the University of Texas and the only classes I found interesting and made good grades in happened to be Psychology and Sociology classes. Everything else I had to study hard just to make average grades. My major is in Psychology with a minor in Sociology. This degree just seemed meant to be and natural. Looking back through my career, I realize many people in the counseling field are fucked up worse than their clients. I am so used to being around fucked up people, around them, I am comfortable. Maybe this means I am fucked up, too, I don’t know. College was always hard for me. The first time I attended, I partied and flunked out. The second, I paid for my education by selling drugs and working at a part time job. Once older, I became serious about my education. My classes were difficult. I studied so much to keep up, there wasn’t much time for a social life. I made a couple of friends I would go to ball games with or play tennis with, but for the most part, all I had time to do was go to school and work. As much as I hate to admit it, more often than not, I feel I’ve wasted so many years and creative talent in this field. The work comes so natural to me, it has never been a challenge. This work is common sense for the most part. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for the years of work without layoffs or firings. That has been a blessing. Fortunately, I have made a decent living and I never lived check to check. Counseling is an art, not a science. I don’t see myself a counselor first; I see myself as a writer first, and then a musician. I’ve played the guitar all of my life and I am good, good enough for me anyway. The clients love to hear me play and to read my writings. I have worked with thousands of clients over my forty-year span and, in general, they like me and I never have many problems with any of them. Clients often share how they feel I am an excellent counselor and how I help them to change their lives, but my pride lies in comments on my writing or music, because that’s what’s most important to me.
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AuthorKeith Kelly currently lives in Rio Rancho New Mexico. Archives
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