Book of D: Nostalgic San Antonio: You Can Never Go Home Again

The adage, "you can never go home again," is from the 1934 Thomas Wolfe novel. The novel was published the same year my late mom was born – just had to add that. Anyway, the saying insinuates that people tend to overlook the negatives in their past because nostalgia often clouds their memories, thus, misleading them to remember the past in an exaggeratedly positive light. Some believe that humans incorrectly remember people, places, events, and such from their upbringing in static terms. Whatever the reason, I am a firm believer that you really can't go home again.

My spouse and I are still in San Antonio, celebrating our wonderful relationship which will be 24 years old on March 19th. While in San Antonio, we went to the rodeo on Friday night and stayed for the after-rodeo entertainment: STYX. On Saturday, we did a lot of shopping and drove to historic Alamo Heights to see how the area has undergone a lot of transformation (house flipping). We talked about how we would like to buy a bungalow in the neighborhood, but we agreed we would prefer a turn-key one versus one we would have to renovate. We hardly have time for home reno these days. Until I am finished with my master's degree in clinical counseling and my PhD in Higher Ed or Philosophy, my time for woodworking or carpentry is en attente. Anyway . . . My spouse and I finished our day's shopping venture at North Star Mall, and I remembered the times I went there with my ex and others. I remembered certain shops and eateries (most are no longer there) that my ex and I used to visit. I remembered the many conversations and bouts of laughter my ex, our friends, and I would have. My wife and I parked our suv in the covered parking garage near the Sea Island (on Rector) restaurant that my ex, her parents, and I loved to frequent. My wife and I had dinner at Tycoon Flats where my ex, her family, and I visited a few times whenever her brother would venture into town. It was kind of surreal at times, but I did not allow myself to get too enmeshed in the memories. While my wife and I dined at Tycoon Flats, we laughed at the cold weather anomoly plaguing San Antonio, and our bullheadedness in not letting the cold beat us; afterall, we are from West Texas where it really gets cold, so we're badass cold-weather-veterans (right?). We agreed to dine outside on the patio at Tycoon Flats; they had outdoor heaters, but they weren't positioned as well as they probably could have been, so our row of tables weren't really being heated very well. My wife and I could definitely feel the chill of the night; the temp was 40°. I ate my Tycoon Flats burger meal in record time. My poor wife was too cold and barely made a dent in her TF burger meal. We paid and left and made our way to the Starbucks closest to our downtown hotel, so we could warm up with vanilla chai lattes. However, the SB was cold, too; the employees were wearing cold weather apparel. I think it was the badly placed drive-thru area that was creating terrible cold, wind drafts in the entire establishment. My awesome wife and I just laughed because we couldn't seem to get away from the cold. So, here are my final thoughts as I blog in bed next to my beautiful wife. While driving around town and visiting/seeing the different venues, I remembered so many of the good times when I lived in San Antonio in the late 80s and early 90s. I finally allowed the memories of the bad times to course through my mind, and I was not sad. I did not allow myself to pivot inward to the point of melancholia; instead, I treasured where I was in my life now and who I was with, and I avoided "the feels." The nostalgia was quickly replaced by gratitude. And although you can never go home again, you can create a different home: a home that is better for you, one that makes you want to be better for your loved ones, and one that is infinitely full of love, compassion, and acceptance.

Book of D: San Antonio or Bust, part deux.

 Well, I spoke too soon. Upon getting closer to the quaint town of Fredericksburg (~ 10 miles), there was a long line of cars, like a wreck had occurred causing all traffic headed southbound on Highway 87 to come to a complete halt. One of the men in an unmarked vehicle came by to tell all drivers in line that the road leading into F-burg would be blocked for two more hours. Hm. The mrs. and I are wondering what's going on, and without internet connectivity, we're not going to know. Our only option is to turn back toward Mason and take another route. Damn it to hell.

Book of D: San Antonio or Bust

Ye old stomping grounds: I see ya, San Antonio. I haven't been here since last year before my Fall 2021 semester started. It was a swell time we had. We played things by ear, per se. We stayed at the downtown DoubleTree. I remember eating at a quaint type of nouveau establishment: The CommonWealth Coffee House at the Hemisfair Plaza.

This time around, we're staying at the Hampton Inn downtown. My spouse wanted to attend the San Antonio Rodeo & Bullriding event, so she purchased tickets for tonight's event at the AT&T Arena. I'm sure it will be fun. We both like watching bullriding on occasion. Especially when the major competitions are happening (e.g.,Vegas). She attended school with the famous bullrider Jim Sharp, so her interest in bullriding has been sparked for many years now. The weather is supposed to be antagonistic. Lol. The forecast is "cold and rain with drizzle," which is actually an upgrade compared to last night's weather app prediction of "rain with a mix of wintry sleet." We're hoping San Antonio will be more accommodating, weather-wise, if you will. If not, we'll get around it like we always have. We're driven in actual snow storms while traveling in the Texas Panhandle, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Colorado, and Kansas. Still . . . I'd rather have nice weather in San Antonio to better enjoy things. We're hoping to catch a live event on Saturday night, too. Maybe a theater production. I read there's a production of the Orphan playing at one of the community theaters. We shall see. For now, we're just excited to catch tonight's bullriding competition. The rest is just icing on the old proverbial cake. 

Book of D: Damn. All My Counseling Hours

To date, for the current Spring 2022 Internship I semester, I have completed over 159.50 counseling hours (86.50 direct and 73 indirect) with clients. 

During the Fall 2021 Practicum semester, I completed 123.50 total hours (77 direct and 46.50 indirect). 

During the Spring 2021 Practicum semester, I completed 133 total hours (77 direct and 56 indirect).  

Overall, I have over 416 total hours of counseling clients.

A more precise breakdown is 240.50 total direct hours to-date with clients and 175.50 total indirect hours to-date.

Book of D: Welcome "Organica" (Counseling Clients is Copacetic)

I have to admit, today's earlier sessions went really well. I was more comfortable than I have ever felt with a client. I told my internship site supervisor that I felt wonderful and that the actual process of counseling a client felt more organic versus clinically structured. I have been in the mental health counseling grad program since 2018. I have learned a lot during that time. I have been counseling clients since my first round of practicum, Spring 2021. Today, I was ready to relax and be myself. I was able to just chill and trust myself. I dubbed the feeling "organica." I'm so ready to let that b¡tch keep flying. lol.

Book of D: Those Damn Dreams

 So, once again I find myself feeling rather shaken up by a dream. It's one of those dreams where you wake up feeling like you're still in the dream. The people from the dream remain vivid. The conversations are still wreaking havoc inside your head. The ethos, pathos, and logos of the events are playing via a loop, and it just leaves you wondering why. WHY? Why am I dreaming of this person who hasn't been in my life for over two decades; I haven't spoken to her in almost one decade (since my mom passed away). Do I need to do something about the dream? Is it closure I need? I really don't think closure is really an issue here. Should I talk to my mentor in the counseling grad program or should I talk to my therapist. If I do talk to someone about it, am I doing it to get some kind of weird validation, so I can justify reaching out to the protagonist in my dreams. What is it about some dreams that leave us rattled to our core? I mean, I'm not going to lie and say I don't miss this person who's been enveloping my thoughts following said dreams but is it really apropos to try to reach out to her. As I stated, I haven't had communication with her much for years. I miss her terribly. I miss our conversations, but it could be that I am missing someone and some things that most likely have changed. Am I really ready to put myself out there only to face disappointment or melancholia for a world that no longer exists the way it once did? Perhaps the disturbing dreams and their frequent occurrences are because that world that I envision within myself really never existed. Not in the sense that reconnecting with it can really do me any good in this point in my life. Maybe the dreams are a way for me to channel the truth.