Giving yourself for the unseen

I work in the realm of abstract.  There are the goals that are known, documented, billed for.  The behavior modification demonstration, big and staring obvious maladjustment resulting in couch pillows thrown in my direction.  And then there are the goals that aren't within the scope of someone's perspective, the unseen, the hidden part of the iceberg.  It's within the latter that my mind spends the day leafing through pages, examining through the microscope of my world-view, and standing in the midst of a thousand tiny pieces blowing forcefully around and colliding with my face.  It's within the latter that things like motivation and defense mechanisms and grief and unspeakable confusion are poked, prodded, offered support and unconditional company.
It's so much more than a bill, than a piece of paper describing theory and resistance.  It's more than an expectation and consequence.  It's more than hopelessness and, dare I say, evil at work.
It's a process.  Grace is bigger than forgiveness.  Community is more than words.  Hope can't always been seen.  Bad things don't equate to bad people.  The law does not motivate.  More often than not, change happens in the open ended question, and the depth of emotion shared that cannot always be articulated.  What scares me more than anger, is anger masking fear.  Anger is so much easier than fear.  Anger is known.  Fear is abstract.  We are afraid of the abstract.  We are afraid of grace.
Am I describing the known, my job or the abstract, my spirituality?