An eight-year-old’s work can inspire anyone of any age
by Cindy Myska, therapist and mother of two
I am a Helper. I help.
At eight years old, my son formed a work club.
“Helpers for Hire,” he wrote on the brochure. “Five eight- or nine-year-old boys, $1.50 per hour per boy. Will help with anything, cleaning rooms, mowing, or will design and build a fort for you with our dads’ help.”
That’s me. A helper, just like my son, only with mental things, thoughts and beliefs. I help people sort out, throw away stuff, keep some. I help people go through their stuff and look at it. We look at what the stuff meant when they got it, and what it means now. I help them figure out what they want to keep and what they want to throw away.
I can help architect a fort too, an amalgamation of physical blankets or metaphysical thoughts, that’s a safe place to play.