Balance. Self Care. Sorry, what was that? January 13, 2013

It has been a very long time since my last entry.  All through this Christmas/New Year period I was thinking about the anticipation and then madness at this time last year,  when writing my book.  At the time I said “Yes, I will get it on Amazon very soon”.  I am finally able to report that yes, “Art Therapy: Foundation and Form”, is now on Amazon!

Getting through this past year has been a challenge.  It has been a year full of health challenges, care challenges, child (albeit grown up children) challenges. It has been a year of being stretched in ways I had never imagined possible.

That phrase that I hear, and use far too often- my “you look after yourself” phrase- has finally been scrutinized for what it REALLY means.  Honestly, would you actively NOT look after yourself? What am I ACTUALLY going to do differently because someone I care for/admire/trust/look up to has told me to look after myself? I suspect the message is actually “make sure you don’t do anything that isn’t necessary or good for you”.  This message is probably good but I still struggle with it.

You see, I can say “No” when I want to, but frequently I actually want to say “Yes”.  Perhaps I want to say yes because I am really interested and excited about the opportunity/project, or because I feel very much that it is my duty to say yes, or maybe it’s because I know that without my yes, this person will be left unsupported.  When your child asks you for support that is genuinely needed and is most suitably provided by a parent  it is not only hard to say no, but doing so has other consequences for my mental health, like wondering if I am being an ungrateful/uncaring mother. After all, my kids only have one mother, and that’s me!  When my own elderly parents or my partner’s parents are in need of support in some way, and in particular when I know this parent is perhaps extremely isolated and fragile, how can I say no to that?  My partner doesn’t get a lot of me, between work, exciting projects, children and parents, so when he wants something of me, it’s fair surely, that I can say yes.

So far that is, let’s see, 6 children, various husbands and partners, 4 parents, 1 partner of my own, (and now 2 grandchildren!).   This means that if everyone in my family has just ONE major event in a YEAR, I am due for some feelings of responsibility/guilt/wanting to demonstrate care about every – oh – two weeks? That’s tough. Add in that each of these people have birthdays, graduations, celebrations, exciting news, devastating news and so on and EVERY week ends up asking something big of me.

So what’s the choice here? I know I have a choice.  I know that I could simply not respond, not be available, not drag my sorry butt out yet again to visit my Mum, but is that REALLY looking after myself?  I think not.  I suspect that looking after myself implies that I need to care for my body, my mind, and my soul, AND respond in line with my values, priorities, and responsibilities.  I would not be looking after myself if I allowed an entire summer school holidays to pass without making an effort to do something special with my youngest rather than bury my head in a good book.  I’d find it hard to live with myself if my elderly parents-in-law spent Christmas day alone.  So looking after myself sometimes means pushing myself to do what makes me feel good about me, not just avoiding the difficulties.  Then I might be tired, but at least I’ll feel alright about me.   I know that tiredness can be hard to bear – but nowhere near as difficult as feeling like I’ve compromised my own values.

I’ve decided I need to rethink my advice “look after yourself”.  I’ve decided it’s an awful thing to say to someone struggling to pull everything together.  I’m working on some other possibilities like “I’m thinking of you” (I always feel like this implies the thinker has some amazing power that their thinking about me will somehow help!)   or  ”Remember through all this that you are a good person, even if you don’t always achieve what you hope for” (It’s terribly preachy!) .  Hmmm… I’m not sure.

Any suggestions?

Passion or ‘Pop’? March 28, 2012

I am in need of just one more check of the final editing fixes, and the book Art Therapy: Foundation and Form is ready for printing.  I am hoping in just two more weeks to have a few copies in the boot of my car.  I’m afraid I have been working far too hard over the past few weeks, teaching art therapy to many new students,  and this has left me little time for the things I love to do in my non-work time.  I’ve felt ready to pop.  Some of the frantic-ness, of course, has been self-inflicted. Like the time I invited the renowned Sitar and Tabla Player, Sandip Burman and his manager John, to stay with us, on my precious day off.  Sandip is doing a whirlwind world tour (well, New Zealand, 3 states in Australia, Singapore, and  Calcutta that I know of) and this is his bread and butter, as well as the bread and butter for his management team.   Wow, what a lovely experience it was to have the sounds of strings drifting through our home as I cooked dinner, and answered my emails.  Sandip is passionate about his art form, music, and he truly seemed to become one with the sitar as he played.   This begs the question, are we overworking ourselves when we are doing something we truly love, even if it is considered our ‘job’?  If we are passionate about our work, there is a temptation to blur the lines between leisure and a dogged pursuit of professional excellence.  How do we define those boundaries and practice appropriate self care under these circumstances?  I suspect the wisest measure is balance. Many things in life are delightful, the sun on your face, a beautiful wine, a sleep in. In excess however, all of these and many more are dangerous for us.  Even the great things we do for others can be self harming when done in excess.  It is up to you to decide where to draw the line between following your passion, and the point of ‘pop’!

Fortunate Millie getting a lesson from Sandip

Sandip and John were delightful guests and we are really hoping they pay us a visit during next year’s trip to Australia.  Thanks guys!

Swearing by MythBusters February 8, 2012

MythBusters conducted an interesting test on whether swearing aloud increases tolerance to pain.

Although the sample size was extremely small (n=5), swearing aloud during a painful experience increased the participants’ ability to tolerate this pain by an average of 30%. Pretty impressive.  Although we can certainly question the methodology of this particular study, anecdotal evidence says people will report pain relief upon swearing.

But what is going on here? Whether you say ‘ elbow’, or ‘f**k”, it’s just a word, a collection of sounds with relevance to English speakers only. Is it the extent of expression that matters, in other words, the intensity with which the word is expressed or is it that the more ‘naughty’ or shock value in the word, the more pain one can withstand?  Does this mean that a usually mouthy person gets less relief when he or she swears during a painful incident?

If we know that swearing helps pain, how come we have so much trouble accepting that ART can ease pain?

The action of scuffing the pastel across the page, blocking in slabs of colour, moving the body in arcs and extension, in and out, up and over can add a rhythm and movement.  I had the opportunity for some lovely soothing pastel work today.  I am currently nursing a badly bruised arm (from a trip over the weekend). My arm is sore ( just slight pain in the background) but as I worked today, I noticed the pain in my arm almost in rhythm with the art making.  Part of me was annoyed, but another part of me welcomed the intensifying of the pain on the pull motions, whilst it lessened on the push motions.  As I worked I realized that the art gave purpose to my pain, it was ok to hurt because it was achieving something, and secondly, it was as if I was in control of it. It some ways I was in control. I could bring the pain on and ease it off. It was much better than being a passive experiencer of the pain.  I felt a small sense of mastery over it.  I also felt some reassurance that the pain is almost cyclical, that it is not fixed. I thought about how often I flex a sore muscle, or press a bruise,  drawn to make and then stop the pain by my own actions.  Is this a small opportunity to prove control over it?

I don’t know.

But I would suggest, that among other things, Art has these innate healing properties:

1.  Blood pressure, heart rate and other physiological stress indicators are reduced during art making.

2.  Art can be the ‘swear’ for some people who put this extent or intensity of expression into the art making act rather than the word.

3.  The whole body movement and choice to engage in art making despite pain, can give the artist a sense of control, where pain is usually uncontrolled.

Sneezing at the therapeutic relationship February 7, 2012

I have permission to share the following story with you.  It will be removed if this lovely person changes her mind, which she is perfectly entitled to do.

Before I was an art therapist, I was a counsellor who used art.

I was working with Kate (not her real name) who really wanted to do something about her obsessively rigid, black and white attitude to the world which was causing her considerable issues in relationships.  Kate was determined that everything should be just right, all the time.  She believed that she should justify her decisions and then be immovable.  She believed that weak people made mistakes, or sat on the fence, and that she wouldn’t be liked if she wasn’t always right, and decisive.   After some work in lovely soft chalky pastels, Kate wanted to soften the image off even further.  As part of this act, in which she smudged and blended, Kate grated chalk dust over the image through a seive.

Within less the a minute of this process beginning, I unexpectedly sneezed.  I apologized and started to wipe my hands with a wet wipe, when I sneezed again, and again, and again.  After about 20 sneezes, I excused myself and went outside.  I ran into the adjoining bathroom and grabbed a handful of toilet paper and I blew my nose, over and over to clean out the chalk dust and hopefully stop the sneezing.  I wiped my teary eyes (from the exertion of sneezing- not because I was emotionally overwhelmed!), and returned to the consult room.   I apologized again, and Kate launched back into her process, but less than a minute later I began to sneeze again.  I worked hard to draw attention away from my sneezing over the following 20 minutes.  We continued but went from laughing about it, to wondering if something was wrong.  I went from embarrassment, annoyance, and internal fury, some of which must have shown on my face, to resignation that I’d probably never see Kate again!

Toward the end of the session, once the sneezing had finally stopped, I summarized the session.  I asked Kate what her ‘take home’ message might be and she floored me with her answer.  Kate told me that she realized that even though I was sneezing, which was awful and embarrassing for both of us at times, that she still ‘liked’ me.  She said that she knew I was angry with myself and that we didn’t get through much in the session.  While Kate was watching me struggle with the situation, it occurred to her, that sometimes things just aren’t controllable. She decided that even if things go pear shaped and embarrassing, it is possible to still be liked and even admired for surrendering to an unmanageable situation.  She said that if a counsellor can really mess up a session and still be liked and successful, and even welcome the next client with confidence, (an assumption on her behalf!), then perhaps she could be a little gentler on herself.   Most of all, she liked that I said “Sorry”, but didn’t blabber on about excuses for why it happened, or try to make it up to her.  She said that she didn’t expect me to be perfect, so it was unrealistic and irrational to think she should be. Apparently, even though on her first impressions I looked like a second-rate counsellor, she really liked me!

I learnt something that day too.  The therapeutic relationship can provide some opportunities for healing that we might never imagine.

Unfortunately, I made a little boo boo on the way out, when I offered a free session because this one had been such a disaster!  She refused saying that perhaps she should pay me double seeing as I went to such lengths for her.  I realized by offering a free session, I actually potentially diminished the value she’d gained, by sneezing at the power of the therapeutic relationship.

Thankfully Kate returned for several more sessions and I have not had anything like that sneezing attack since!

 

 

 

Brains and caterpillar Art February 1, 2012

One of the most amazing things that our bodies do, is move.  Think about it like this.  We take fuel, or nutrients, convert it into chemicals and then use it to create a mechanical movement. No need to plug in or turn it on or even think about it. We want to move, and we just do it.  What is even more amazing is how we regulate movement.  We go to grab a mug of coffee that we expect to be full but it’s not, and, as we pick it up, we nearly throw it over our shoulder because it’s so light.  On the other hand, we pick up a mug we expect to be empty and it’s not, it’s so heavy for a millisecond that we almost drop it. Somehow, our brain had determined that as this cup is full and will weigh (how much more?) that we will need to engage just a few more muscle fibres in the task of picking it up.  Just those few extra fibres that weren’t necessary make for a mighty forceful lift.  Or the full cup, bum, we didn’t engage enough, so on initial pickup the mug tilts wildly as our muscle and brain recalculates and gets enough lifting bits into action to lift it evenly.  And then we manage to carry a full cup, without it spilling, up a flight of stairs in the semi darkness. All fine, and we don’t spill a drop, until you think about it. Then the wobbles set in.

In my very first muscle physiology lecture, whilst I was listening to talk of myosin, actin and myofibrils and  I drew this:

Muscles it seems,contain millions of tiny critters, nibbling at the actin molecule with a tasty binding site to which the myosin cross-bridges (hereinafter referred to as caterpillars) can attach thus forming a contraction of the muscle as the darling things nibble and let go, nibble and let go.  The strength of the muscle pull just depends on how many caterpillars are recruited for the job.  The caterpillars are of course, clever creatures, and very obedient. If the brain says stop. the caterpillars, or just those instructed, stop immediately. Not like your average household pooch that can take 3 good yells and a schmako to make it stop.

I guess I want to make two points here.

ONE:  Every single movement, every single breath we take is truly a miraculous event.  Making art is wow, just so wow.

TWO:  This silly sketch, and a wonderful metaphor has helped me remember more about muscle physiology than I will ever have use for.

Finally, I’d like to point out that this highly automated system sometimes works too well.  I had my glass behind me on the bedhead and managed to pick it up, with my little finger to the rim of the glass instead of the usual pointer and thumb (try it behind your head!). Of course my brain decided once the glass made it almost over the top of my head, that something was terribly wrong and my hand did an auto correction, bringing my pointer and thumb to the upper position and pouring the entire contents over my head.  Mid-way through this spectacle, I attempted a reverse correction, but just slowed the pour enough for my husband to look up. Seeing me gently pouring iced tea over my head, he thought I’d finally flipped my lid.   At the conclusion of the incident, and my pithy explanation,  he fell out of bed laughing!

slowww coffee, chiropractor and a proof read January 30, 2012

I made it… I made it… I made it!

Last night I printed off my copy of the book.  Well, the ‘unedited except by me’ copy of my book.  I am done. I might need to do some more adjusting and so on once my real critics have a read, but it’s out there. The first and last pages and the reference list is done, I think most of the pages in between are done.  The relief last night was amazing. This morning I had a coffee OUTSIDE, in the SUN.  (Not at my computer). This morning I went to the chiropractor who somehow managed to get my neck and shoulder and arm all back in the right spots after sitting way way way too many hours at the computer over the past month, (it feels SOOO good), and I am about to sit down with a good book (well, I sincerely hope it’s going to be good), and proof-read my first hard copy (as opposed to sitting at the computer and reading it for the 100th time!).  I expect the editing and preparation process will take a while. But I do hope the printing will be done by the end of March.

Of course, the book might be written, but now I have to sell it! I am going to do a short youtube video, organise some $4 mini interactive web-seminars in line with the book content, hopefully get a piece in the local paper and ‘innerself”, organise a website with a ‘buy it with paypal now’ button and generally just make a nuisance of myself.

If any one has any other amazing marketing ideas, I would very much appreciate your comments.

Thank you all so much for your patience. Your support has meant a lot to meant and really inspired me to keep going.

A new art therapy based post will be coming your way shortly.

Finishing touches January 28, 2012

I am exhausted.  My brain is melting.  I can see the finish line, but those last few hurdles look huge.  The most rewarding activity of the last few days has been inserting images into the text.  I have a gorgeous and talented daughter who is a photographer, cook, blogger, crafter and all round wonderful gal.  She has taken all of the photographs for the book and had edited them and made them just right!

An art therapy book is good, but beautiful pictures make it even better!  Aren’t they wonderful?

Please be patient with me as I get through the next couple of days. Don’t give up on me though, I will continue to post, even after the book has left my hands.   I aim to then transfer my art therapy musings to this forum instead of the book.