Transitions Counselling

09/11/2025

While it may be a controversial subject for some, spiritual trauma, and trauma that occurs in churches, is far too prevalent to dismiss. Much of it stems from non-professionals overstepping their boundaries and venturing into areas best left to trained counsellors.
You are invited to carefully consider the following:

A clear framework for understanding a pastor’s “lane” in supporting hurting people safely:
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1. Pastors’ Core Role: Spiritual and Relational Care
A pastor’s lane centers on spiritual support, relational presence, and referral — not clinical or professional therapy or counselling.
Their role is to:
• Listen with empathy and compassion
• Pray with and for the person
• Share hope and guidance from Scripture appropriately
• Help connect the person to a supportive
• Ensure long-term, reliable wrap around support is put in place
• Encourage professional help when needed
Think of it as “shepherding the soul, not treating the symptoms.”
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2. Recognize the Boundaries
Pastors should not:
• Diagnose mental health conditions
• Offer medical or therapeutic treatment
• Promise confidentiality when safety is at risk (e.g., self-harm, abuse, harm to others)
• Take on burdens beyond their training or emotional capacity
A good rule of thumb: if the person’s needs are clinical, chronic, or crisis-level, that’s outside the pastoral lane and requires referral or collaboration with trained professionals.
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3. Know When to Refer
A pastor should refer or collaborate when someone:
• Talks about trauma of any kind
• Talks about suicidal thoughts or self-harm
• Describes abuse, trauma, or violence
• Exhibits signs of addiction or severe mental illness
• Needs ongoing counselling beyond short-term pastoral care
The pastor’s job is to normalize seeking help, not replace it.
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4. Safety and Confidentiality
Pastors should be clear about:
• Limits of confidentiality:
“If you tell me something that makes me believe you or someone else is in danger, I’ll need to get help right away.”
• Documentation: Keep brief, factual notes (not detailed counselling records) if required by church policy.
• Mandatory reporting: Know state or national laws about reporting abuse or danger.
Ethical confidentiality boundaries are critical – unfortunately pastors are not subject to these like professionals are.
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5. Team-Based Care
Pastoral support is strongest when part of a care network:
• Mental health professionals
• Medical providers
• Support groups
• Community resources
• Trusted lay leaders or care teams
A wise pastor doesn’t try to be the whole support system — but a bridge between faith and professional help.
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6. Spiritual Integrity and Self-Awareness
Pastors should continually:
• Stay humble about limits
• Seek supervision or peer consultation
• Practice self-care and boundaries
• Training and educating self and volunteers is paramount
• Maintain ongoing training in trauma-informed and ethical care
A healthy shepherd leads best from within healthy boundaries.

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08/11/2025

The Jungian quote, *“No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell,”* suggests that genuine growth and fulfillment arise from deep self-reflection and the courage to confront one’s inner struggles, “shadow” aspects, and hidden conflicts.

True personal development requires looking inward—acknowledging and integrating the darker parts of the self—rather than avoiding discomfort or pain. Just as a tree must send its roots deep into the earth to rise tall and strong, a person must explore their inner depths to reach higher levels of awareness, balance, and wholeness.

08/11/2025

02/11/2025

What does this story have to do with counselling I hear you ask. The answer is alot and nothing. Depending on what you see in it.
I see this story as one trauma survivors could idetify with very stongly.
Especially where he speaks of assimilation. It means smoothing (healing) out the parts of yourself that make others uncomfortable. It means leaving your pain or hard parts of life at the door so you can fit in with the rest of the crowd. It means not choosing one or the other.

We can honor both parts of ourselves.
Without confusion, conflict or shame, we can integrate our past and our present so we can be authentically our whole selves.
That’s healing. That’s true freedom.

🦅🦅🦅

He walked onto that red carpet wearing a tuxedo and his ancestors' pride—and Hollywood had never seen anything like it.
The cameras flashed. People whispered. Some stared.
Rodney Arnold Grant stood tall in formal black attire—but on his head sat a traditional Native headdress, each feather carrying centuries of meaning.
It wasn't a costume. It was a declaration.
Born in 1959 on the Omaha Reservation in Macy, Nebraska, Rodney's story began with abandonment. His parents couldn't raise him, so his grandparents stepped in.
They gave him something more valuable than comfort: they gave him his identity.
They taught him the language. The ceremonies. The stories passed down through generations. They showed him that being Omaha wasn't just blood—it was responsibility, pride, and connection to something bigger than himself.
Growing up on the reservation meant navigating between two worlds. The modern American world that often erased Native people from its narrative, and the traditional world his grandparents fought to preserve.
Most people would have chosen one and abandoned the other.
Rodney chose both.
In 1990, he landed the role that would define his career: Wind In His Hair in Dances with Wolves.
Remember that final scene? When Wind In His Hair stands on the cliff, shouting in Lakota as his friend rides away? That raw emotion, that fierce pride—that was Rodney bringing authentic Native presence to a screen that had spent a century getting it wrong.
Hollywood had shown Native people as props, stereotypes, and villains for decades. Rodney showed them as human beings with dignity, complexity, and power.
One year later, in 1991, he portrayed Crazy Horse in Son of the Morning Star—one of the most revered leaders in Native history. The responsibility was immense. Crazy Horse wasn't just a character. He was an ancestor, a warrior, a symbol of resistance.
Rodney didn't take it lightly.
But his impact extended far beyond film sets.
He served on the Boys and Girls Clubs of America's Native American Advisory Board, dedicating himself to Native youth who faced the same challenges he once did—kids growing up between worlds, searching for where they belonged.
He showed them: You don't have to choose. You can honor both.
That's what the tuxedo and headdress represented.
Not confusion. Not conflict.
Integration.
The tuxedo said: I belong in your world. I earned my place here.
The headdress said: But I will never forget where I came from.
Too often, success means assimilation. It means smoothing out the parts of yourself that make others uncomfortable. It means leaving your heritage at the door so you can fit through.
Rodney walked through that door differently.
He brought his ancestors with him.
He showed Hollywood—and the world—that you don't have to erase your past to claim your future.
That Native people don't belong only in history books and Westerns. They belong in boardrooms, on advisory boards, at awards ceremonies, and anywhere they damn well choose to be.
And when they arrive, they don't owe anyone an explanation for who they are.
Rodney Arnold Grant's career was important.
But his refusal to compartmentalize his identity—that was revolutionary.
Because representation isn't just about seeing people who look like you on screen.
It's about seeing them refuse to shrink themselves to make others comfortable.
It's about watching someone walk into spaces that weren't built for them and thinking: If he can stand tall in both worlds, maybe I can too.
Whether you're Native American navigating cultural identity, an immigrant balancing two countries, a first-generation college student straddling class divides, or anyone who's ever felt split between worlds—
Rodney's story is for you.
You don't have to choose.
You don't have to leave parts of yourself behind to move forward.
You can wear the tuxedo and the headdress.
You can honor where you've been while claiming where you're going.
You can be both—and that doesn't make you conflicted.
It makes you complete.
Rodney Arnold Grant didn't just play powerful roles.
He lived one.
The role of a man who refused to let Hollywood, or anyone else, decide which parts of his identity were acceptable.
He walked through those doors as his full self—reservation kid, accomplished actor, Omaha Nation member, youth advocate, father, artist.
All of it. At once. Unapologetically.
That's not just representation.
That's revolution.
So the next time you feel pressure to minimize who you are, to code-switch until you disappear, to leave your heritage in the car so you can fit in the building—
Remember the man in the tuxedo and headdress.
Remember that your whole self belongs everywhere you go.
And remember: the most powerful role you'll ever play is authentically yourself.


~Weird Wonders and Facts

31/10/2025

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31/10/2025

Many of us learned to disconnect to stay safe. Counselling can help you find your way back home — to yourself.

30/10/2025

Don’t you have to spot Jared’s trailer somewhere?