Today, I was able to perform!!!!!! I mean, really perform!!!! I was so excited to have had the opportunity. My program manager sent an email to me and one other of my co-workers asking us to be a part of a "Code drill". It was a clandestine effort and we were not to let anybody else in on it. The plan was to call a Code Armstrong (staff member in danger) and a Code 7 (patient elopement) at virtually the same time!!! It was exhillerating! I felt like Kevin Hart when he describes the day his mom gave him permission to curse his teacher out.
"It's about to go down".
All day, I waited for 7 o clock to arrive. I looked at my phone every couple of minutes - brimming with the excitement that only comes pre-performance.
Here was the plan:
My program manger was to call me on my cell phone, which would activate the entire drill. I was then to call my co-worker, Brian, who would then tell his expressive therapist, Caroline, to go and get his rock climbing harness from his car. As soon as I saw Caroline, I was then to gather my children up who were outside on the playground, send Charlie* to do an individual session with my intern and then tell Caroline that Brian just called and said she needed to call a Code Armstrong immediately! A couple of minutes later I was to "notice" that one of my children (the child I sent to do an individual session with my intern) was missing and I was to find someone to call a Code 7.
Here is what actually happened:
Brian called me first. He was so excited, he could barely stand it. While he is on the phone with me, my program manager, Meg, called. The plan was now activated. I saw Caroline walk out to get Brian's rock climbing harness from his car, I had my children line up to go inside from the playground, I sent Charlie in to do an individual with my intern and had them enter through the adult program door. As soon as Caroline approached. phone in hand, I said, "Brian is on the phone. A fight broke out in the gym. We need you to call a Code Armstrong immediately!". Her face went flush. She handed the code calling off to the program nurse and said, "I need you to call a Code Armstrong to the gym". But the nurse heard, "I need you to come with me to the gym". So the code Armstrong was never actually called, but of course staff raced to the gym. A few minutes later I am running down the hall looking for someone to call a Code 7. I can't find anyone because everyone ran to the gym to help with the Armstrong. So, I give my patients to my dear colleague, Tiffani, and call the code myself. I then leave the floor and run outside "looking for" my eloped patient. Meanwhile, a real fight breaks out in one of the group rooms. Somebody goes to help poor Jennifer witht the two real life aggressive boys, Caroline comes running back to help me find Charlie, and then I see every MHT they have on inpatient staff filing out to help. So, I let Caroline off the hook, told her it was just a drill and everybody went back to business as usual. But now Caroline is upset! She thought that we were all playing a trick on her. Meanwhile, poor Charlie is in his individual session with my intern, and hears the Code 7 with a near perfect description of him, and he says, "That sounds like me. Don't I have on black pants? I have on black shoes with blue shoestrings and a black and grey striped shirt" and then the person announcing the code said that the child was 7. So, Charlie says, "Oh that's not me. I am 8".
Hillarious!!!! Another great day at the WB!
We had a debreifing afterwards with senior administration and security. They said the code was necessary to help us identify holes in our processes, and yes, there are holes. But overall we did well. They were impressed with our staff, but more importantly, they were impressed with my description of the days events and more than that, they were impressed with my acting chops (it was my committment to the role they said). Because clearly that is what is important here! They want to use me to stage more drills. How funny is that?!!!!
*patient name was changed to protect confidentiality.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Playfulness Project - Another day - The Turtle, Swan and Boy
Several weeks ago, I had a dream that I was swimming bare breasted in a river with a boy child swimming before me. It was a powerful - very maternal feeling - I knew that I was responsible for this life. I knew that I had a strong position in my community. As we swam through the river, we bore witness to a beautiful Swan, ripping a turtle from its shell. The ripping was very aggressive -yet very necessary. I could hear and feel the ripping as it was difficult, but the swan had to eat. The turtle was a sacrifice to the swan. It was as if the turtle knew it was bound to happen and although painful, it was its destiny to be ripped and torn a part. My boy child was mesmerized and very curious and adventurous and I intuitively knew that it too wanted to rip a turtle from its shell. So, I decided that I would allow it,and was content to let him do it. But when the opportunity arose, I changed my mind and decided that it was too dangerous and that it was my job to protect him. I told him no.
That dream has stayed with me everyday since. And I have asked myself, what part of me is the turtle, what part of me is the swan and what part of me is the boy - the puer spirit? What part am I withholding from the world, and what part am I seeking to devour? And what part of me is saying no - being protective and maternal? What part of me is afraid, and what part of me knows what I need to do to survive.
I imagine having a conversation with one character in the dream and I think I would like to talk to the swan, but I want to talk to the swan from the voice of the child:
Child: Swan, oh beautiful and majestic swan. What power you hold in your hands. You have the power of life and death.
Swan: It is what I must do. It is painful. This tearing and ripping apart. But I must do it in order to survive. I don't enjoy it. It actually pains me to do it, but I have no other choice.
Child: But you do it so efficiently and effortlessly. But you don't enjoy it. Why did you choose the turtle?
Swan: Because of its meat. It has a lot of meat which means it will keep me satisfied for longer periods of time. And because it has so much meat, I can share it with my family and still keep some for myself. Why, boy, are you so fascinated with me?
Child: Because I want to be strong and powerful like you. I want to be able to rip a turtle from its shell in a single tear. I want to eat turtle meat. I hear it is tasty.
Swan: But I wish I did not have to do it you see. I wish I were able to live off of air and sun. I don't enjoy the kill like most hunters do. But I have to eat.
Child: What would happen if you did not kill the turtle?
Swan: I would starve.
Child: What would happen if you starved?
Swan: I would die
Child: What would happen if you died?
Swan: Someone would eat me.
Child: So, you eat the turtle so that no one will eat you.
Swan: I guess so. What would happen if you never get to rip open a turtle?
Child: I would never have the experience of ripping open a turtle.
Swan: Why does your mother keep you from it?
Child: She is afraid the turtle may be too strong for me and that in the midst of me ripping it apart, it will turn on me and do me harm. So, my mother shields me to keep me safe from harm.
Swan: But when the turtle no longer has its shell, it is vulnerable. It can't hide inside of its shell any longer. It is there for all the world to see. That is a scary place for the turtle to be. Instead of lashing out, don't you think it would be panicking?
Child: Perhaps. But animals have the fight or flight instinct, right? There would be nowhere for him to flee, so why wouldn't he fight?
Swan: But what would he be fighting for. He can't win.
Child: Can't he? Hasn't he already won? He is fulfilling his destiny by allowing himself to be devoured. That is what he came here for. There is nothing left for him to do but surrender.
WOW!
What I got from that is my work - me being an Expressive Therapist - is the turtle. And I have not really come out in any big way. I have played it small for the most part. Not making many waves. And now, I am being discovered, and my shell is being ripped from me and all I need now to do is walk in my destiny. The swan represents the people and institutions that are starting to recognize what I am doing and want me to do more of it. They are ready to bite. The boy is the part of me that is ready - adventurous - excited - curious. The mother is me. The part of me that initially says, "YES!" but is ultimately too afraid that it will all fail or that I will be consumed by it all.
AMAZING! the power of drama therapy. Storying my dream. This is what I want to spend my life doing. Using dreams to unlock mystery, but doing it in an expressive way. I am thrilled!!!! Thrilled!!!! Thrilled! (says the boy). :)
That dream has stayed with me everyday since. And I have asked myself, what part of me is the turtle, what part of me is the swan and what part of me is the boy - the puer spirit? What part am I withholding from the world, and what part am I seeking to devour? And what part of me is saying no - being protective and maternal? What part of me is afraid, and what part of me knows what I need to do to survive.
I imagine having a conversation with one character in the dream and I think I would like to talk to the swan, but I want to talk to the swan from the voice of the child:
Child: Swan, oh beautiful and majestic swan. What power you hold in your hands. You have the power of life and death.
Swan: It is what I must do. It is painful. This tearing and ripping apart. But I must do it in order to survive. I don't enjoy it. It actually pains me to do it, but I have no other choice.
Child: But you do it so efficiently and effortlessly. But you don't enjoy it. Why did you choose the turtle?
Swan: Because of its meat. It has a lot of meat which means it will keep me satisfied for longer periods of time. And because it has so much meat, I can share it with my family and still keep some for myself. Why, boy, are you so fascinated with me?
Child: Because I want to be strong and powerful like you. I want to be able to rip a turtle from its shell in a single tear. I want to eat turtle meat. I hear it is tasty.
Swan: But I wish I did not have to do it you see. I wish I were able to live off of air and sun. I don't enjoy the kill like most hunters do. But I have to eat.
Child: What would happen if you did not kill the turtle?
Swan: I would starve.
Child: What would happen if you starved?
Swan: I would die
Child: What would happen if you died?
Swan: Someone would eat me.
Child: So, you eat the turtle so that no one will eat you.
Swan: I guess so. What would happen if you never get to rip open a turtle?
Child: I would never have the experience of ripping open a turtle.
Swan: Why does your mother keep you from it?
Child: She is afraid the turtle may be too strong for me and that in the midst of me ripping it apart, it will turn on me and do me harm. So, my mother shields me to keep me safe from harm.
Swan: But when the turtle no longer has its shell, it is vulnerable. It can't hide inside of its shell any longer. It is there for all the world to see. That is a scary place for the turtle to be. Instead of lashing out, don't you think it would be panicking?
Child: Perhaps. But animals have the fight or flight instinct, right? There would be nowhere for him to flee, so why wouldn't he fight?
Swan: But what would he be fighting for. He can't win.
Child: Can't he? Hasn't he already won? He is fulfilling his destiny by allowing himself to be devoured. That is what he came here for. There is nothing left for him to do but surrender.
WOW!
What I got from that is my work - me being an Expressive Therapist - is the turtle. And I have not really come out in any big way. I have played it small for the most part. Not making many waves. And now, I am being discovered, and my shell is being ripped from me and all I need now to do is walk in my destiny. The swan represents the people and institutions that are starting to recognize what I am doing and want me to do more of it. They are ready to bite. The boy is the part of me that is ready - adventurous - excited - curious. The mother is me. The part of me that initially says, "YES!" but is ultimately too afraid that it will all fail or that I will be consumed by it all.
AMAZING! the power of drama therapy. Storying my dream. This is what I want to spend my life doing. Using dreams to unlock mystery, but doing it in an expressive way. I am thrilled!!!! Thrilled!!!! Thrilled! (says the boy). :)
Playfulness Project - Unsure of the day!!!!! - Sacrifice and Surrender
So much has transpired between the last recorded day and now... So much Movement - shifts in the earth's atmosphere and I am there moving with the air - shapeshifting as the moment calls - balancing in the wind.
Day 9 last week, I got a call from our NADTA's President Elect, Nadya Trytan, who literally said to me,"Congratulations"! Much to my surprise, she said that I had been nominated by several people on the board to be the Chair of the Government Affairs Committee. She "vetted" me yesterday morning, and gave me an idea of what it would look like if I were chair of the Government Affairs Committee and by extension a member of the Board of Directors. It is quite a daunting task. I looked at it objectively - along with every other good thing I do in the name of Expressive Therapy, and I kept hearing Wayne Dyer's voice in my head saying, "an idea whose time has come". Everything that I have worked so hard for - in the way of increasing the visibility of and advocating for the field, my work, trainings and workshops and sitting in front of legislators... Being nominated to the board seems to be a step in the right direction. I could not see myself saying no.
So, I talked to various people I know who are doing the things they want to do. And every one of them is doing what they choose to do because they have someone supporting them financially - either a parent or a husband, or maybe they have a roomate, or live off of disability. I don't have that "luxury" (I am not saying by any means that being on disability or even having a roomate is a luxury - there is a lot of sacrifice involved). I looked around at the space where I live, and I LOVE my space!!!! I love every inch of it - everything about it - I mostly love that it is mine. And unless my cat, Sebastian, decides to get creative and move something, everything is exactly where I left it when I come home at night. I asked myself if I would be willing to give up my space for what I want. And I finally concluded that I would. I would give up the luxury of having my own space - sacrifice this space I love - in order to go to school, to do my ArtReach work, to be Chair of the Government Affairs Committee, to teach drama therapy. I would surrender living alone, having my stuff in storage, and be relegated to a room if that is what it took. I would surrender it all if I knew that at the end of the day I could look back and say "this is what I got in return". This would be my PhD, a teaching position at a University, board membership, etc.
I would surrender it all.
Day 9 last week, I got a call from our NADTA's President Elect, Nadya Trytan, who literally said to me,"Congratulations"! Much to my surprise, she said that I had been nominated by several people on the board to be the Chair of the Government Affairs Committee. She "vetted" me yesterday morning, and gave me an idea of what it would look like if I were chair of the Government Affairs Committee and by extension a member of the Board of Directors. It is quite a daunting task. I looked at it objectively - along with every other good thing I do in the name of Expressive Therapy, and I kept hearing Wayne Dyer's voice in my head saying, "an idea whose time has come". Everything that I have worked so hard for - in the way of increasing the visibility of and advocating for the field, my work, trainings and workshops and sitting in front of legislators... Being nominated to the board seems to be a step in the right direction. I could not see myself saying no.
So, I talked to various people I know who are doing the things they want to do. And every one of them is doing what they choose to do because they have someone supporting them financially - either a parent or a husband, or maybe they have a roomate, or live off of disability. I don't have that "luxury" (I am not saying by any means that being on disability or even having a roomate is a luxury - there is a lot of sacrifice involved). I looked around at the space where I live, and I LOVE my space!!!! I love every inch of it - everything about it - I mostly love that it is mine. And unless my cat, Sebastian, decides to get creative and move something, everything is exactly where I left it when I come home at night. I asked myself if I would be willing to give up my space for what I want. And I finally concluded that I would. I would give up the luxury of having my own space - sacrifice this space I love - in order to go to school, to do my ArtReach work, to be Chair of the Government Affairs Committee, to teach drama therapy. I would surrender living alone, having my stuff in storage, and be relegated to a room if that is what it took. I would surrender it all if I knew that at the end of the day I could look back and say "this is what I got in return". This would be my PhD, a teaching position at a University, board membership, etc.
I would surrender it all.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Playfulness Project - Day 8 - Passion Play
It is my belief that when you are truly passionate about something - no matter what it is - that if people feel your passion, they will buy in to whatever it is you are "selling". It is the passion that becomes the linkage between the thing and the person. Passion is the currency.
It is with passion that I presented before Douglas County Middle School Counselors on Day 8. I had not planned anything and I only had 25 minutes. So, I reached in my closet, grabbed my bag o tricks and set sail on my journey to Chestnut Log Middle School, which I later learned was on the news that night after a call to the Sheriff's department was intercepted by a local news agency (they were having a "slow day"). It was reported on the 11 o clock news that the Sheriff's department was dispatched to Chestnut Log Middle School - no details were given. Yesterday, I learned the details: A 14 year old girl brought a piece of broken glass to school and threatened to kill the Assistant Principal who happens to be the husband of a friend of mine. Meanwhile, all the would be helpers were with Me!!! We were playing and completely oblivious that there was a world outside of the double doors.
I first asked them what some of the hot topics were and they chimed in quickly with
"social media!"
"girls thinking that oral sex is not really sex"
"trending homosexuality - and then the other kids' response to it"
"Emo culture"
and of course
"bullying"
So, I taught them how to breathe. Nothing can proceed without the breath. For many of them it was their first lesson in diaphragm breathing. They had never before taken a breath that did not include raising their shoulders. Many felt the breath actually move through their bodies for the first time. While breathing we stretched and interestingly enough the stretching seemed to become quite sexualized. Naturally lots of laughter ensued... it was the joining in - matching their students' sexualization. I made light of it and said, "Y'all have been around kids too long". It was like setting the re-set button. They laughed heartily, and then returned back to the body. Laughter is always good, and I try to get participants laughing quickly, because it releases inhibitions, endorphins and sets the stage for what is to come.
We then did a little scribble drawing. Scribble drawing has become one of my favorite exercises as of late. In my ever so humble opinion, scribble drawing is, at its essence, about transformation. It is about holding on and letting go, it is about imagination, allowance, turning lemons into lemonade. Turning someone's trash into a treasure. It is also, in some ways, the artistic version of the game "Telephone" because what you send out is never what you get back. It is about vulnerability and shame. Hope. It is a gift when it is returned to you. Completely transformed. One of the participants said that it made her quite uncomfortable. I told her to "play with that". :) Explore what makes you feel uncomfortable. I always find it so interesting when people leave a therapeutic experience feeling uncomfortable. You are supposed to feel uncomfortable! (If you are working)
It is like getting a cut on your hand and then walking into the salt water of the beautiful ocean. It stings because it is healing.
After we scribbled and processed, I brought us back to some of our hot topics and surmised that it might be safe to say that "Identity" seems to encapsulate a lot of the angst that the children are experiencing. So, we did a human sculpt of identity.
They loved it!
By the end of the presentation they swarmed around me like a hive of honeybees. I really felt like the Phenomenal Woman that Maya Angelou speaks about in her poem of the same name.
A couple of them were charting my career course, trying to figure out how I can certify counselors in expressive therapy. I have no idea if that is even possible! They all want me at their respective Career Days - I have literally gotten like five invitations in the last two days. And one of them wants me to teach her counseling class at Clark Atlanta University.
Yes, Passion Play! It was a wonderful day!
It is with passion that I presented before Douglas County Middle School Counselors on Day 8. I had not planned anything and I only had 25 minutes. So, I reached in my closet, grabbed my bag o tricks and set sail on my journey to Chestnut Log Middle School, which I later learned was on the news that night after a call to the Sheriff's department was intercepted by a local news agency (they were having a "slow day"). It was reported on the 11 o clock news that the Sheriff's department was dispatched to Chestnut Log Middle School - no details were given. Yesterday, I learned the details: A 14 year old girl brought a piece of broken glass to school and threatened to kill the Assistant Principal who happens to be the husband of a friend of mine. Meanwhile, all the would be helpers were with Me!!! We were playing and completely oblivious that there was a world outside of the double doors.
I first asked them what some of the hot topics were and they chimed in quickly with
"social media!"
"girls thinking that oral sex is not really sex"
"trending homosexuality - and then the other kids' response to it"
"Emo culture"
and of course
"bullying"
So, I taught them how to breathe. Nothing can proceed without the breath. For many of them it was their first lesson in diaphragm breathing. They had never before taken a breath that did not include raising their shoulders. Many felt the breath actually move through their bodies for the first time. While breathing we stretched and interestingly enough the stretching seemed to become quite sexualized. Naturally lots of laughter ensued... it was the joining in - matching their students' sexualization. I made light of it and said, "Y'all have been around kids too long". It was like setting the re-set button. They laughed heartily, and then returned back to the body. Laughter is always good, and I try to get participants laughing quickly, because it releases inhibitions, endorphins and sets the stage for what is to come.
We then did a little scribble drawing. Scribble drawing has become one of my favorite exercises as of late. In my ever so humble opinion, scribble drawing is, at its essence, about transformation. It is about holding on and letting go, it is about imagination, allowance, turning lemons into lemonade. Turning someone's trash into a treasure. It is also, in some ways, the artistic version of the game "Telephone" because what you send out is never what you get back. It is about vulnerability and shame. Hope. It is a gift when it is returned to you. Completely transformed. One of the participants said that it made her quite uncomfortable. I told her to "play with that". :) Explore what makes you feel uncomfortable. I always find it so interesting when people leave a therapeutic experience feeling uncomfortable. You are supposed to feel uncomfortable! (If you are working)
It is like getting a cut on your hand and then walking into the salt water of the beautiful ocean. It stings because it is healing.
After we scribbled and processed, I brought us back to some of our hot topics and surmised that it might be safe to say that "Identity" seems to encapsulate a lot of the angst that the children are experiencing. So, we did a human sculpt of identity.
They loved it!
By the end of the presentation they swarmed around me like a hive of honeybees. I really felt like the Phenomenal Woman that Maya Angelou speaks about in her poem of the same name.
A couple of them were charting my career course, trying to figure out how I can certify counselors in expressive therapy. I have no idea if that is even possible! They all want me at their respective Career Days - I have literally gotten like five invitations in the last two days. And one of them wants me to teach her counseling class at Clark Atlanta University.
Yes, Passion Play! It was a wonderful day!
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Playfulness Project - Day 7- SLAM
Day 7. I had my interview with Lesley University for acceptance into the PhD program. I cannot even begin to describe how nervously excited I was. It felt like the moments just before going on stage. You know your lines. You have been rehearsing. You are in character. But you never really know if your audience is going to "get it". Will they laugh at the punch lines? Will they be drawn into your performance and feel moved to tears? Will they give you the energy exchange that makes a good performance great? And just at the moment when you have released all of the questions and returned to a place of peace, you peek out of the curtain and see a full house. You are excited and nervous at the same time, which Mr. Debek always said was the perfect combination of feelings to have just before going on. If you were all of one or none of the other you would not give a good performance. The morning of Day 7, I hope I gave a good performance. After having my Skype interview I was more excited than ever about the program. It sounds rigorous, challenging and very exciting!
The night before the interview, after typing all afternoon, I met a couple of friends at Java Monkey in downtown Decatur for a poetry slam. Now, mind you, it has been 11 years since I went to a Slam. I used to frequent slams all the time in Minnesota because my partner at the time was a Slam Poet. There is something to be said for the energy that is generated by a slam. It is a raw, vested energy. It has a life of its own. It is visceral and ethereal. Sometimes you can witness it morph into something else - something dark and sinister or something so bright that it blinds your eyes. And that night, the energy was like fire - warm, creative and at times unpredictable! freind
I found myself captured in a swell of creative energy and heard myself say to myself.
"You need to slam"
And of course this is something I have never done before. I have performed other people's writing. Pretended to be somebody else hundreds of times. But I have never been me as me, performing something written for me by me. Talk about role dissonance...
I remember going to the national conference for drama therapy several years ago and attending a workshop given by John Bergman, a professor of expressive therapy (drama therapy/psychodrama) at Lesley University. He is brilliant and passionate and has done and continues to do amazing work. One thing he said during the workshop struck me like a bolt of lightening. He said that as drama therapists, we must continue to hone our craft. He said that we MUST be doing theatre. And I thought, "of course we must". I don't know a single art therapist who does not do their own art. I don't know a single music therapist who does not sing. And yet, I am a drama therapist who does not perform. I always talk about how much I miss it, but never do anything about it. Because I am always "too busy". I am tired of being too busy. Too busy does not seem to be getting me anywhere any faster. So, I am not sure what I am so busy doing. Really.
And so, I will start with slamming. It seems fitting really, when you think about all of the stories I contain. Stories of war and trauma. Stories of displacement and loss and grief. Stories of abuse and shame. Sometimes it makes me want to slam it all . Slam it against the perpetrators - those who knew and did nothing. Slam it against the system and then against the system of the system. Slam it against the impossibility of being with it all. Slam poetry is the kind of poetry that literally slams itself against the faces of those who would bear witness. It slams itself against your heart and your brain. You can feel the synapses firing off and have to sometimes stop yourself from rising up and shouting "hallelujah!" Or stop your heart from leaping out of your body. Or stop yourself from wailing and moaning and sobbing for some lost soul somewhere you have never and will never see. Or stop yourself from tearing your own eyes out because you cannot bare the reflection in the mirror a second longer. Or stop yourself from yelling "STOP! You are too close!"
Yes, I will slam... and then take an improv class or two.
The night before the interview, after typing all afternoon, I met a couple of friends at Java Monkey in downtown Decatur for a poetry slam. Now, mind you, it has been 11 years since I went to a Slam. I used to frequent slams all the time in Minnesota because my partner at the time was a Slam Poet. There is something to be said for the energy that is generated by a slam. It is a raw, vested energy. It has a life of its own. It is visceral and ethereal. Sometimes you can witness it morph into something else - something dark and sinister or something so bright that it blinds your eyes. And that night, the energy was like fire - warm, creative and at times unpredictable! freind
I found myself captured in a swell of creative energy and heard myself say to myself.
"You need to slam"
And of course this is something I have never done before. I have performed other people's writing. Pretended to be somebody else hundreds of times. But I have never been me as me, performing something written for me by me. Talk about role dissonance...
I remember going to the national conference for drama therapy several years ago and attending a workshop given by John Bergman, a professor of expressive therapy (drama therapy/psychodrama) at Lesley University. He is brilliant and passionate and has done and continues to do amazing work. One thing he said during the workshop struck me like a bolt of lightening. He said that as drama therapists, we must continue to hone our craft. He said that we MUST be doing theatre. And I thought, "of course we must". I don't know a single art therapist who does not do their own art. I don't know a single music therapist who does not sing. And yet, I am a drama therapist who does not perform. I always talk about how much I miss it, but never do anything about it. Because I am always "too busy". I am tired of being too busy. Too busy does not seem to be getting me anywhere any faster. So, I am not sure what I am so busy doing. Really.
And so, I will start with slamming. It seems fitting really, when you think about all of the stories I contain. Stories of war and trauma. Stories of displacement and loss and grief. Stories of abuse and shame. Sometimes it makes me want to slam it all . Slam it against the perpetrators - those who knew and did nothing. Slam it against the system and then against the system of the system. Slam it against the impossibility of being with it all. Slam poetry is the kind of poetry that literally slams itself against the faces of those who would bear witness. It slams itself against your heart and your brain. You can feel the synapses firing off and have to sometimes stop yourself from rising up and shouting "hallelujah!" Or stop your heart from leaping out of your body. Or stop yourself from wailing and moaning and sobbing for some lost soul somewhere you have never and will never see. Or stop yourself from tearing your own eyes out because you cannot bare the reflection in the mirror a second longer. Or stop yourself from yelling "STOP! You are too close!"
Yes, I will slam... and then take an improv class or two.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Playfulness Project - Day 6 - Reframing the context of experience
I have given lots of thought to the naming of this experience, and the word "plan" does not sound near as inviting as "project". The language of project invites a curiosity. It becomes a more creative endeavor where you are piecing together seemingly discordant experiences and shaping them into some sort of collective experience over time. Besides, I still want to keep with the alliteration. I like it.
Today I have been working on a piece to submit to the North American Association of Drama Therapy as they have chosen me as their Member Spotlight for April. I felt very humbled by the ask, and went back and re-read the Spotlights from February and March. A Fulbright Scholar and Harvard Fellow respectively. And then there is me.
"Not sure how to play with that", says the voice of the ever looming critic.
On the one hand, I felt very proud to be amongst such esteemed colleagues, and then of course I felt completely out of their league. I read and re-read my story and repeated to myself several times: "My work is important. My work is important. I am important". I have to continue saying it like a mantra as I seek to deepen and expand my work and myself.
I have been typing and listening all afternoon. Listening to birdsongs and the neighborhood cats as they cry for one another. Listening to Krista Tippet's On Being and John Bergman's You Tube interview about his work. But even more than that, I have been listening to my heart's desire which continues to be to do more, more, more. I am quite proud of the work that I have done thus far, and know that I have so much more to do. I have heeded the call and I am walking in the light. Dancing in the light. Skipping and hopping in the light. As I continue to take this road, travelled by some - following in their footsteps and then blazing my own trails. Watch it glow!
Today I have been working on a piece to submit to the North American Association of Drama Therapy as they have chosen me as their Member Spotlight for April. I felt very humbled by the ask, and went back and re-read the Spotlights from February and March. A Fulbright Scholar and Harvard Fellow respectively. And then there is me.
"Not sure how to play with that", says the voice of the ever looming critic.
On the one hand, I felt very proud to be amongst such esteemed colleagues, and then of course I felt completely out of their league. I read and re-read my story and repeated to myself several times: "My work is important. My work is important. I am important". I have to continue saying it like a mantra as I seek to deepen and expand my work and myself.
I have been typing and listening all afternoon. Listening to birdsongs and the neighborhood cats as they cry for one another. Listening to Krista Tippet's On Being and John Bergman's You Tube interview about his work. But even more than that, I have been listening to my heart's desire which continues to be to do more, more, more. I am quite proud of the work that I have done thus far, and know that I have so much more to do. I have heeded the call and I am walking in the light. Dancing in the light. Skipping and hopping in the light. As I continue to take this road, travelled by some - following in their footsteps and then blazing my own trails. Watch it glow!
Playfulness Plan- Day 5 - Recovery
And on the 6th day, She rested. And rested. And rested. One has to be restored and refreshed in order to be playful or it ceases to be fun. And so, I did. Rest.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Playfulness Plan - Day 4
So yesterday I was derelict in my duties. But for a good reason I WAS BEING PLAYFUL ALL DAY LONG! My entire environment was my playground and I played with it!
I conducted a family session with the family of one of my patients yesterday. They asked lots of serious questions and were seeking some very serious answers and then in walks my patient talking about playing therapist with her little sister. So I asked the parents if they would be willing to play therapist with their child, where the child is the therapist. The child was delighted and so were they! So I allowed my patient to take on the mantle of the therapist and ask her parents some serious questions. This opened up a dialogue that had been previously closed. I felt like a less destructive version of The Cat, in Dr. Suess', beloved book- just making connections and providing opportunities to play!
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Playfulness Plan - Day 3
I got a text this morning from a dear friend of mine who is coming to visit me tomorrow. He got news at the last minute that he would need to bring three children who are currently in his care (no school tomorrow). Argh! I read the text and thought,
"Ah. I must respond playfully".
My response:
"That's ok. Maybe they can do the dishes."
hahahaha!
The day was getting off to a good start...
And then came work - the never ending administrative tasks...meetings, paperwork and phone calls. Notes, side conversations and a few minutes to inhale a delicious lunch I prepared.
At last the children started to arrive and I had jazz playing as they entered the playspace. I kept waiting for that moment when playfulness would become the order of the day. I waited and waited, but it didn't come. Yes, I was engaged with them in all sorts of play, from building castles to playing "Tens". But there did not seem to be a moment when I transitioned from playing to playfulness.
And then I introduced our activity. I drew some pictures on the board. Mind you, I am a horrible artist. I drew a flame that looked like mismatched gloves on a kitten, a teddy bear that looked like the Bride of Chucky and a few other images that were absolutely abysmal. I used it as a lesson to not take yourself too seriously.
The activity was related to anger - identifying angry triggers and signs and symptoms of anger. I used images to help my patients categorize their own expression of anger. Before asking them to draw the one that most closely resembles them when angry, I performed each one. And oh, oh, oh did it ever feel good to perform. And the performance was playful. I then asked them to perform their signs and symptoms of anger and then their expression of anger which they did willingly and playfully.
Whew!
Mission Accomplished!
"Ah. I must respond playfully".
My response:
"That's ok. Maybe they can do the dishes."
hahahaha!
The day was getting off to a good start...
And then came work - the never ending administrative tasks...meetings, paperwork and phone calls. Notes, side conversations and a few minutes to inhale a delicious lunch I prepared.
At last the children started to arrive and I had jazz playing as they entered the playspace. I kept waiting for that moment when playfulness would become the order of the day. I waited and waited, but it didn't come. Yes, I was engaged with them in all sorts of play, from building castles to playing "Tens". But there did not seem to be a moment when I transitioned from playing to playfulness.
And then I introduced our activity. I drew some pictures on the board. Mind you, I am a horrible artist. I drew a flame that looked like mismatched gloves on a kitten, a teddy bear that looked like the Bride of Chucky and a few other images that were absolutely abysmal. I used it as a lesson to not take yourself too seriously.
The activity was related to anger - identifying angry triggers and signs and symptoms of anger. I used images to help my patients categorize their own expression of anger. Before asking them to draw the one that most closely resembles them when angry, I performed each one. And oh, oh, oh did it ever feel good to perform. And the performance was playful. I then asked them to perform their signs and symptoms of anger and then their expression of anger which they did willingly and playfully.
Whew!
Mission Accomplished!
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Playfulness Plan - Day 2- The Play is the Thing!
The wind this morning was howling as if we were stuck in the middle of Snow Falling on Cedars - or is that just Chicago? I halfway expected to look outside of my window and find ice melting on the hood of my car. But alas, no ice. Just cold. Unlike yesterday, I knew that being playful would not come easy today. It is Wednesday. The middle of the week. Just enough into the week to know that you have been at it for a while, and yet far enough away from the weekend to know that there is still a ways to go.
I considered playfulness, and wondered how it would show up in my life today. I wondered what would happen if I never had a single playful moment. Would the gods of play - those cultural archetypes of trickery and wit - descend (or ascend - depending on your belief system) on me and castigate me into the pits of no play land? Would I consider this a failed experiment and give up any notion I might have had of myself as a clinician who has mastered the art of play? This experiment to me feels like the start of a new diet. The first day is exciting! You are pumped and eager to do whatever it takes to loose weight. And then the plateau happens and you start to loose momentum and seek inspiration from any and everywhere. I was surprised that by Day 2, I was already beginning to wonder at my usefulness as a play object, but then I had to remind myself:
"I play for a living!"
I do this daily. So, it is not like I am a novice at it. Chronicling my experience is simply giving me other opportunities to use play in order to deepen my experience of myself and to deepen the therapeutic relationship between therapist and patient.
But this morning I feared I might indeed go the entire day and not play at all. I considered some of the barriers to play including but not limited to:
Lack of presence
Poor Health
Inability to move past one's own internal struggles/emotions/circumstances
A genuine dislike for the persons or persons with whom you seek to be playful
Not knowing how to play
Not wanting to play
I am sure as the days wax long, I will come up with myriad other barriers to being playful. But for now these are some general ones. Thankfully, not mine (today), but just things that clutter your mind, body, heart and spirit and make it difficult to be playful . Remember, playfulness relies very little on what you do or don't do, it is a state of being. It is the way in which one engages their entire environment.
It occurred to me at some point during the day that PRESENCE is probably the most important aspect of play. I would even assert that presence is the most important aspect of a therapeutic relationship. If you are fully present with you client or clients, knowing what to do becomes second nature. If you are present, you are able to set aside your own issues and really be with what and who is in the room. And if you are present, being able to play with your own inability for unconditional positive regard will be the only option. Being present is a gift in itself - and who does not like playing with gifts?
Seeking inspiration, I turned to Latin music. I had it playing today as my patients entered the group room - less for them and more for myself. I watched how they engaged the music and we all giggled as they made silly faces and tried to ballroom dance. I recognized then my need to play - I mean really play - like go to the playground and play. So, we completed our treatment questions, and discussed treatment related issues, and then we went outside. We tossed the ball, played tag, and hula hooped. I responded to the play invitation of a child who lost her mom two years ago. She wanted to make up a game that involved tossing a ball into the open circle of the hula hoop at different integrals. She laughed shrieks of joy as she alternately missed and dunked the ball. And I laughed and encouraged her every bit of the way. It was lots of fun!
In group, *Melissa had been talking about how much she misses her mom and how sad she is now that her mom is deceased. In play together we shared a beautifully creative moment - in shared loss and grief for our moms - without having to talk about it at all.
*All names have been changed to protect patient confidentiality.
I considered playfulness, and wondered how it would show up in my life today. I wondered what would happen if I never had a single playful moment. Would the gods of play - those cultural archetypes of trickery and wit - descend (or ascend - depending on your belief system) on me and castigate me into the pits of no play land? Would I consider this a failed experiment and give up any notion I might have had of myself as a clinician who has mastered the art of play? This experiment to me feels like the start of a new diet. The first day is exciting! You are pumped and eager to do whatever it takes to loose weight. And then the plateau happens and you start to loose momentum and seek inspiration from any and everywhere. I was surprised that by Day 2, I was already beginning to wonder at my usefulness as a play object, but then I had to remind myself:
"I play for a living!"
I do this daily. So, it is not like I am a novice at it. Chronicling my experience is simply giving me other opportunities to use play in order to deepen my experience of myself and to deepen the therapeutic relationship between therapist and patient.
But this morning I feared I might indeed go the entire day and not play at all. I considered some of the barriers to play including but not limited to:
Lack of presence
Poor Health
Inability to move past one's own internal struggles/emotions/circumstances
A genuine dislike for the persons or persons with whom you seek to be playful
Not knowing how to play
Not wanting to play
I am sure as the days wax long, I will come up with myriad other barriers to being playful. But for now these are some general ones. Thankfully, not mine (today), but just things that clutter your mind, body, heart and spirit and make it difficult to be playful . Remember, playfulness relies very little on what you do or don't do, it is a state of being. It is the way in which one engages their entire environment.
It occurred to me at some point during the day that PRESENCE is probably the most important aspect of play. I would even assert that presence is the most important aspect of a therapeutic relationship. If you are fully present with you client or clients, knowing what to do becomes second nature. If you are present, you are able to set aside your own issues and really be with what and who is in the room. And if you are present, being able to play with your own inability for unconditional positive regard will be the only option. Being present is a gift in itself - and who does not like playing with gifts?
Seeking inspiration, I turned to Latin music. I had it playing today as my patients entered the group room - less for them and more for myself. I watched how they engaged the music and we all giggled as they made silly faces and tried to ballroom dance. I recognized then my need to play - I mean really play - like go to the playground and play. So, we completed our treatment questions, and discussed treatment related issues, and then we went outside. We tossed the ball, played tag, and hula hooped. I responded to the play invitation of a child who lost her mom two years ago. She wanted to make up a game that involved tossing a ball into the open circle of the hula hoop at different integrals. She laughed shrieks of joy as she alternately missed and dunked the ball. And I laughed and encouraged her every bit of the way. It was lots of fun!
In group, *Melissa had been talking about how much she misses her mom and how sad she is now that her mom is deceased. In play together we shared a beautifully creative moment - in shared loss and grief for our moms - without having to talk about it at all.
*All names have been changed to protect patient confidentiality.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
21 Day Playfulness Plan - Day 1
The morning star was bright this today, and I took this as a sign that playing would be a natural outgrowth of evidence that Spring is quickly approaching. The air was light, birds were singing, and I just knew that I would be searching for opportunities to be playful. As I was basking in the light of the morning sun, I noticed a book just to the right of my night stand. It was a book I have had for so long (circa 1999), I almost forgot I had it.
Sark's Journal and Play!book
"Of course!" I mused,
"When inviting playfulness into one's life, whom better to consult than Sark"!
Sark literally teaches her readers how to open up space for aliveness! Aliveness! How divine!
"Maybe we'll paint marshmallows purple, or free circus elephants. Maybe we'll ride on a chocolate merry go round, or make tennis shoes for camels. Maybe we'll find a child who feels unsafe at home and take her out of there right away. Maybe we'll mail so many letters to God , that everything gets all healed up..." (Sark's Journal and Playbook, on a page without a number, circa 1993. Color emphasis mine).
I thumbed through the pages of my play!book and realized how much of it I'd left undone. Actually, the vast majority of it was left incomplete. I don't have answers about why I never finished. Perhaps playing was too painful then... maybe there were areas in my life that were best left - whatever the opposite of play would be - not play.
One of the captions in this play!book read: "Imagine yourself magic" I often watch my kids pretend to be magicians of one sort or another. I have several wands from which to choose. Everything from the Harry Potter wand that looks like a crooked walking stick to a wand with glitter and bubbles - and everything in between. Typically when my patients use the wands they are at once imbued with the power of choice. And that choice usually vacillates between destruction and restoration (not to be confused with creation). If they destroy or kill off a character, they choose whether or not to bring them back to life. And it is that power to choose that ultimately becomes so empowering.
It would make sense that the magic of choice would be such a seminal issue for a child coming into therapy. So often these children do not get to choose what happens to them. They did not choose their circumstances - economics, parentage, etc. They did not even get to choose whether or not to come into therapy. So, having power over SOMETHING - ANYTHING - even if it is simply whether or not to destroy a character- ultimately has an incredible impact on a child.
So, today I empowered little *Sammie with the power of choice - without a wand! I started the day off with a little music - Long Live Radio Disney! That instantly lightened my mood and my patients came into my group room dancing... which is admittedly rare. Little Sammie walked in and threw his coat clear across to the other side of the room, and it landed on the floor. I picked it up and tossed it to him without saying a word. Kids are great about spotting a game. So, he tossed it back to me. I tossed it back to him. Then he to me. As my colleague, Dr. Kathleen Platzman, would say. We were opening and closing circles. Finally I was able to ask him if he thought he might be able to hang his coat on one of the hooks from way across the room. We were already in the game by now, so of course he would try it. It would be a challenge. He missed. He tried it again and missed. This time he walked the coat over and hung it up himself - without there being a power struggle.
It was so easy!
I was delighted! And am looking forward to my next opportunity to play!
Sark's Journal and Play!book
"Of course!" I mused,
"When inviting playfulness into one's life, whom better to consult than Sark"!
Sark literally teaches her readers how to open up space for aliveness! Aliveness! How divine!
"Maybe we'll paint marshmallows purple, or free circus elephants. Maybe we'll ride on a chocolate merry go round, or make tennis shoes for camels. Maybe we'll find a child who feels unsafe at home and take her out of there right away. Maybe we'll mail so many letters to God , that everything gets all healed up..." (Sark's Journal and Playbook, on a page without a number, circa 1993. Color emphasis mine).
I thumbed through the pages of my play!book and realized how much of it I'd left undone. Actually, the vast majority of it was left incomplete. I don't have answers about why I never finished. Perhaps playing was too painful then... maybe there were areas in my life that were best left - whatever the opposite of play would be - not play.
One of the captions in this play!book read: "Imagine yourself magic" I often watch my kids pretend to be magicians of one sort or another. I have several wands from which to choose. Everything from the Harry Potter wand that looks like a crooked walking stick to a wand with glitter and bubbles - and everything in between. Typically when my patients use the wands they are at once imbued with the power of choice. And that choice usually vacillates between destruction and restoration (not to be confused with creation). If they destroy or kill off a character, they choose whether or not to bring them back to life. And it is that power to choose that ultimately becomes so empowering.
It would make sense that the magic of choice would be such a seminal issue for a child coming into therapy. So often these children do not get to choose what happens to them. They did not choose their circumstances - economics, parentage, etc. They did not even get to choose whether or not to come into therapy. So, having power over SOMETHING - ANYTHING - even if it is simply whether or not to destroy a character- ultimately has an incredible impact on a child.
So, today I empowered little *Sammie with the power of choice - without a wand! I started the day off with a little music - Long Live Radio Disney! That instantly lightened my mood and my patients came into my group room dancing... which is admittedly rare. Little Sammie walked in and threw his coat clear across to the other side of the room, and it landed on the floor. I picked it up and tossed it to him without saying a word. Kids are great about spotting a game. So, he tossed it back to me. I tossed it back to him. Then he to me. As my colleague, Dr. Kathleen Platzman, would say. We were opening and closing circles. Finally I was able to ask him if he thought he might be able to hang his coat on one of the hooks from way across the room. We were already in the game by now, so of course he would try it. It would be a challenge. He missed. He tried it again and missed. This time he walked the coat over and hung it up himself - without there being a power struggle.
It was so easy!
I was delighted! And am looking forward to my next opportunity to play!
*All names have been changed to protect patient confidentiality.
Monday, March 4, 2013
The 21 Day Playfulness Plan
I recently went back to read my blog on playfulness, and I was honestly ashamed. It was the most unplayful manifesto on playfulness imaginable! One of my cousins even commented "playfully" on facebook that I was so much like her in that "we loose ourselves in ourselves". I don't want to be like that!
As a result, I am putting myself on a 7 day Playfulness Plan! - Wait a minute! They say it takes 21 days to break or create a habit, so let's triple that 7 day plan! Now, we are on a 21 Day Playfulness Plan! So, everyday for7, no 21 days I must be playful in some capacity - whether it is with patients, colleagues, family or friends. And I have to blog about it. Wow! What a tall order!
This is going to be some journey! I can't wait to see where we end up.
From March 5- March 25, I will be blogging about my journey into the deep caverns of playfulness. Stay tuned!
As a result, I am putting myself on a 7 day Playfulness Plan! - Wait a minute! They say it takes 21 days to break or create a habit, so let's triple that 7 day plan! Now, we are on a 21 Day Playfulness Plan! So, everyday for
This is going to be some journey! I can't wait to see where we end up.
From March 5- March 25, I will be blogging about my journey into the deep caverns of playfulness. Stay tuned!
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