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.
No comments:
Post a Comment