Counselor's Corner

When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. -           The Peace of Wild Things (Wendell Berry) This poem was taped to the wall by my desk for at least 10 of the 12 years I worked at the Blackstock Family Health Center. When I needed centering, I slowed my breathing, read the poem, and repeated the final line to myself – “I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.” Then I would return to whatever task awaited, in a gentler, more centered space.   On Friday I took the boys to the dentist for their six-month cleaning. It was

Dear Readers…Welcome to “Breath of Fresh Ayres,” a subset of Counselor Corner’s blogs in which I respond to readers’ questions about parenting topics, self-care, motivation, relationships, and other psychology-related topics that affect how we live our daily lives. A printable summary will be provided at the end of each blog. Dear Dr. Ayres, Help! My daughter has dyslexia and refuses to read during the summer break. I’m worried she will get further behind and will struggle when school resumes. Nothing is working. I’m tired of arguing with her. Please help. Reaching a Resistant Reader Dear Reaching a Resistant Reader: I was a child psychologist for almost 16 years before my children were diagnosed with dyslexia. I thought I had a great understanding of what dyslexia was, and how challenging and draining reading is for the dyslexic learner. I was wrong. I had no idea until I watched the same struggles you’re referencing play out at our kitchen table. I understand your pain, Reach

In Jon J. Muth’s children’s book Zen Shorts , he tells the story of two monks who were walking along a road one day when they came upon a woman who was frustrated with her attendants. The attendants, their arms filled with her packages, could not help her across the puddle and she could not step across the puddle without getting her robe wet. As she harangued the attendants, the younger monk walked past her without response. The older monk, however, picked her up, carried her across the puddle on his back, and gently set her on the ground. Saying nothing, she pushed him away and stomped off. The monks continued on their journey. Hours later, the younger monk voiced his frustration about the woman, her rudeness, and her lack of gratitude. The older monk said, “I set that woman down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?” We want to be the older monk, with his sage advice and mindful approach to life; however, we (most of us, anyway) relate more to the younger monk. As we move fr