Missing the class this week bothered me more than I thought it would. It reminded me of the times, as a child, I had gone on holiday with my parents for our two week summer break. I would always be sorry to go because of what I would miss out on with my friends. Not that I didn't enjoy the holiday once I arrived; I always felt a bit down since it was time that I wouldn't get to spend with my friends. Returning home then was one of the most enjoyable parts of the holiday.
For me, missing out on just one evening's lesson, is missing out, not on the learning, but the shared experience, the being part of something that brings us all together and gives us something in common.
Those of the group who have missed a few of the lessons through illness have appeared a little detached from the group as a whole, seeming, from my point of view, to feel inadequate compared to the the current counselling skills of others, and generally less likely to interact with the whole group.
Further to this feeling a part of something, I have noticed that unless I situate myself next to someone who is already present in the room when I arrive, others tend to sit away from me when they arrive. It is then only when there isn't enough seating elsewhere that people finally sit next to me.
This bothers me and it doesn't bother me. In so much as I have to wonder whether I put myself across as the friendly easy-going person I think I do, or whether I come across as rather high-maintenance, too energetic, or judgemental. It could very well be that the others feel more comfortable sitting alongside women, or that it is merely the luck of the draw.