This place could be beautiful, right?
We could make this place beautiful.
I hope you’ll join me.
And yet, knowing ALL I know, I’m still here to chirp on about those good bones. There is beauty that still remains and we can support it to flourish.
For better or worse, I see that the field has its thumb firmly on the scale of how we make meaning in these modern times, and we collectively and individually have a part to play in growing our field, our bodies of work, and ourselves to make this place beautiful.
I say this knowing full well what we are up against. I grew up, both as an adult and as a professional, right in the middle of the emerging empire of third-wave cognitive behaviour therapy. I’ve had both the privilege and misfortune to have worked closely with some of the world’s most prominent psychologists, behaviour analysts and scientist practitioners. If I ever decide to write a memoir, it will be juicy.
This is how I feel about Western psychology— “…at least fifty percent terrible,” with “good bones,” that we can make beautiful.
On the face of it, these two lines standing on their own read like a kind of saccharine idealism. They are not. They are the last two lines of a poem called Good Bones by Maggie Smith, where she writes about trying to preserve the remaining potential goodness of the world for her small children, while knowing full well that “the world is at least fifty percent terrible.”
As she struggles to do this, she compares herself to a realtor, who “walking you through a real shithole, chirps on about good bones: This place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful.”
With just a few lines, she captures what it means to navigate the tension of knowing that things are in fact grim and yet, in earnest, they could be made better.
place beautiful.
This place could be beautiful, right?
You could make this
Make work that matters.
Become the person who does it.
That’s what we do here.
it’s deeply fulfilling.
While it’s high stakes work,
Today, I coach psychologists, behaviour analysts, scientist practitioners (and other related professionals in this thinky feely space) to have the impact of their work be felt beyond their CVs…even when they don’t feel ready enough.
Supporting others to come into their own, is both my gift and my privilege and a substantial part of my own Meaningful Mastery. I am honoured to be trusted by so many with the behind the scenes of their work and lives.
This research has led to all kinds of impressive things: a Ph.D., a book, publications in journals, conference presentations delivered around the world—and, most meaningfully to me and the incredible people I get to work with, it’s given me the skills to navigate the psychological “wilderness” we have inside each of us.
Several years ago, I moved my work out of the lab and into my coaching practice to create a body of work I call: Meaningful Mastery. Meaningful Mastery is a process that combines the inner work of navigating our psychology, with the outer work of developing a resilient professional practice.
I’m a coach, writer, and scientist practitioner (Contextual Behavioural Psychology), and have spent my career studying how to cultivate psychological flexibility, a super skill in navigating “the messy”—all things complex, uncertain, and meaningful.
Hi, I’m Priscilla Almada
I am fuelled by: Mariage Frères Marco Polo tea, post punk, all things bookish, and mischief.
I live in Australia at the edge of a national park in the Blue Mountains amongst the black cockatoos, with my husband and our floof extraordinaire (doggo) Marcel DuChomp. Being on our back deck, all together, is my favourite place in the world.
Behind the Scenes
If you’re curious to explore working together, I would be honoured to be one of your trusted advisors.