New adventures

Terin opens his eyes. The gleaming of the cave seems different. He blinks, clearing more of the haze from his vision. The dark black has been altered to a lighter shade, almost blue? The shining stone that reflected his fire also seemed to have faded. But wouldn't the fire have gone out by now? Another blink. It takes effort to get into a seated position. The cave floor hadn't been any easier to sleep on lately.
What was left of the fire sat smoldering next to him. The grass around it untouched by the flames.
Grass? Terin reached out automatically to feel what he thought to be thick blades of green grass he hadn't seen for months. It felt crisp and also supple. Not like dried blades that had been exposed to long hours of heat.
The air was clean. Almost automatically Terin closed his eyes and took a long deep breath in. Dirt. But not the dirty remnants of animals and worn stone. This was soil. Earth. As he sat with his eyes closed he heard he soft twitterings of finches. Their calm and cheerful serenade lightening his shoulders.
Somehow he had freed himself of the cave system. He didn't know how and at the moment he couldn't be bothered to care. He'd spent months in those dank walls and had almost given up hope he'd ever see the sky again. Every so often he would meet a figure or animal that would accompany him for an hour, a day and then would inevitably disappear. In many ways it seemed like a cruel punishment. Had he deserved to wander the caves? Was there something he needed to do or learn? There were still no answers. And for the moment, none of that mattered.
He lifted his head and with another great breath he opened his eyes to view the lightening of the sky at dawn. The deep blacks and purples were just beginning to blend into lighter hues of blue and pink. Somehow he'd managed it, finally.
------------------

The trek had all but left Terin exhausted. In his enthusiasm he had indulged himself on berries, squirrel and handfuls upon handfuls of clean stream water. He could still feel the cooling sensation it left down his throat. It was like he had been reborn, experiencing life for the firt time. Everywhere he looked reminded him of life and things he had taken for granted. Somehow it seemed magical. Like the same things had been given new contexts and meaning. It was so much to take in that for the first several hours of the day he spent speeding off to each bush and stone, gasping to reacquaint himself. Until of course a swarm of wasps made their presence known and clearly expressed their wish to not be aquatinted with Terin.
While Terin was trying to find a comfortable place to rest for the night he heard a strange noise. Something he was unfamiliar with. He couldn't quite make out what it was so he stopped and stood patiently in the forest. Was something singing? It almost sounded like words coming from the south. Slowly he walked in that direction, curious as I what he might find.
The trees parted ways and before him was a sight he'd never seen. A vast chasm. Sharp ridges lined a dangerous drop straight down. Terin couldn't tell how far it had descended before having to pull his head back until his swimming vertigo cleared. But the song was clearly coming from somewhere in the chasm, it's echoes sending the song deep into the surrounding forest. However the words to whatever was being sung were still unclear.
"HELLO?" Terin shouted down, half expecting the sad serenade to continue without interruption.
Silence.
Wind moved through the trees all around him and suddenly he wished he hadn't disturbed whatever was creating that song. Another few beats of his heart and he began to pick up the soft murmurings again. Okay, he had only momentarily startled it. That was all right.
Terin found himself enjoying the music. The last thing he wanted to do was cause it to stop, whatever it was. For some reason he didn't feel so alone listening at the edge of the cliff. So with that Terin made his bed for the night. The sun was beginning to set and he would need time to gather wood for a fire.
Leftover berries and squirrel satisfied him immensely as he sat next to the warm flames. His spirit hadn't been so light in as long as he can remember. Somehow the time in the caves had cleansed him. Altered him. He wasn't sure how long this beautiful feeling would last but for right now he would enjoy it. As he laid down on the pallet he automatically called out to the chasm "Goodnight!"
The song stopped again, though only briefly. With little hesitation it continued on into the darkness.
What a sad song, was the last thought that floated through his mind as he drifted to sleep.

How lucky we are

Moving in T-2 days.

Sometimes intuition comes at odd times.

My co-workers took me out for a Quizzo night Monday and as soon as I saw the third place prize, I got that familiar feeling and sure enough, we won third prize. Strange how those things happen.
(Just in case you were wondering it was s book entitled "Stranger than Science" now peppered with what are intended to be the drunk goodbyes of 4 creative arts therapists...)

There have been plenty of instances in which my intuition has gone off. Sometimes I can even call them out and others around me can be as baffled as I am.

FOR INSTANCE- My entire life I've had a feeling I would live in a "C" city.
Almost specifically Cincinnati, Ohio. (Yea, seriously, WTF?!?)
As a kid I remember watching a TV show, set in Cincinnati about a radio show.

 

For some reason it always stuck with me. 

I'm not sure why. 

It's not a particularly fabulous show. 

I mean, it's an 80's sitcom that lasted about 4 years. 

But there was something about it. 

And from what I hear it's not a particularly fabulous city either. 

...Look, I'm just sayin. That's what I hear.

So here's to that random feeling!

 I suppose I'm one step closer to finding "Home."
And that's kind of a big deal for someone who's moved around their entire life.

But what this REALLY boils down to is taking up roots that have been planted for the last 5 years.
And if I'm completely honest, there's a creepy similarity between Cincinnati and this bad boy-

But then again, all cities kind of look alike after a while.

All in all...

My intuition tells me I'll miss it.

A little.

SOLD

What am I doing...

WHAT am I doing?

It seems this is a question I've been asking myself a lot lately.
The level of attention one must have to complete the daily tasks of a work day seems so much more daunting on limited sleep, elevated cortisol and competing priorities like so many love bugs during "Love Bug Mating Season" on a windshield...

Just for context...

$4500 at least to move our shit across the state... I was shocked! 

Do we really have so much shit that it equates to 4 tons in weight?!? 

WHAT!?! 

And then I start looking around... 

Overstuffed chair- We like it. We got it from an old guy who died. Okay, kinda creepy but whatever. 

Two dining tables with 10 chairs- Well one we got out of necessity and the other was passed onto us because the first was too small and wobbly... and um... we need a 6 person dining table for two people? 

5 Large bookcases- Look, I've tried to convince the significant other to get rid of some... we just keep going to the bookstore for date night, and before you know it one thing leads to another... 

2 Large desks- Well we can't just have 1! That's unfair! We need to be equal. Besides, my art and therapy crap is just as important as history and professor junk!

You get the picture. 

According to the evaluator I artfully crammed a hell of a lot of stuff into a one bedroom apartment.

And according to the significant other we would probably have enough furniture to comfortably fill a 3 bedroom house. 

And what do I think about all this? 

I'm glad we have a basement because I've inherited a kick ass karaoke machine and I'll be damned if that thing is going to waste!

"You might recognize this song as performed by Jefferson Airplane in a little rocumentary called Gimme Shelter about the Rolling Stones and their nightmare at Altamont. That night the Oakland chapter of the Hells Angels had their way. Tonight? It's my turn... " - Cable Guy

No but seriously, we were told if we were moving farther away it would be more cost effective to ditch our furniture and buy all new when we got there. 

Seriously?!?

Meanwhile in my head...

1) So now I'm committee chair for a board position in a state I don't live in? Okay. 

2) I gotta get my kids scheduled for this tour. Damn, I have how many days left? 

3) Dinner with supervisor tonight. Will probably be late!

4) Oh! My other supervisor sent me what she wrote in my reference check up!- 

"*** is very articulate in both verbal and written communication. ***'s documentation is timely, concise, and insightful. *** is personable and gets along well with clients, colleagues, and supervisors. *** is quick to identify potential problems and frequently offers suggestions for resolution. *** demonstrates excellent organizational and time management skills. *** is able to work with minimal supervision and produces very high quality work. *** also displays exceptional judgment and decision making skills in all areas of work." 

More than one of those words used is a flat out lie... Thank you!!

5) My house smells like dirty laundry and we just did all the laundry... this mystery is going to have to wait. 

The real 5)  Quick, give shit away so maybe we can afford to move and we can make less money!! 

WHAT ARE WE DOING?!

 

Some day we'll learn. 

But not now... 

6) $4800, WTF! SELL IT ALL!!!

Gangsta Shhhhhhhh To Your Mother

Whoa...

I just had a mini epiphany...

I've been blogging for over a year.
And in that time span I have grown SOOOOOOO much.
At least I think so!

I started off at a relatively safe place- a plateau.
Since that time I've wound my way through Jungian concepts, explored personal beliefs, challenged thought patterns and behaviors...
Crazy shit!! (At least to me anyway)

Thinking back to the time when I began blogging- I was essentially bored.
I had stagnated personally.
I felt like I was going no where and had felt highly unfulfilled, despite being secure and safe (well... as safe as a person of my position can be living in a city full of thoughtful individuals with a mission to rid you of pesky personal belongings).

And you know, now... I feel very differently.

Upon further reflection I do not feel the same void I once did spiritually, professionally or personally.
In fact, I feel like I've come an extremely long way in learning to connect with others, meaningfully.
And that's kind of a BIG FUCKING DEAL YO!!

I've gotten to know myself infinitely better and therefore have a much better handle on situations that would have otherwise had me huddled in a corner weeping.

FOR EXAMPLE:
My significant other and I will be moving soon to a lovely new state that is much less crowded and where the beer flows like wine.
The process of actually making this a reality is overwhelmingly massive.
Like...

And it got compounded when my significant other said that they almost fainted at work because they're schedule is insane and they work all day and go to class till 9 every night of the week and do homework before they pass out in between.
So needless to say I am in charge of finding a place, finding a job, packing and moving us all within the next 6 weeks... And I'm still working till.. I dunno, July 11th. ?

What in the hell do I do?

Well the me BEFORE would have had a nervous breakdown after foolishly attempting and failing miserably to get all of it done myself. THEN bawl in a corner and eventually make myself sick from exhaustion.
THEN I'd call my mom and cry and she would eventually suggest coming to help me.

NOW?
I skipped over all that other bullshit and just called my mom.
And why my mom you ask?
It's not just because of the obvious "Man, my mom knows how to fix everything."
No, no, no, no, you don't understand.
MY MOM 1) has few obligations at present, 2) financial resources *via POPS, 3) a motherly instinct to help her offspring and 4) the indispensable organization skills of military wife who has moved across country with a family in tow (often by herself) a ZILLION times before.
She's like a freakin powerhouse in these situations.

So hurray for learning how to SKIP ALL THE BULLSHIT and CALL FOR HELP!!!

It saves so much time and energy!

The plan?
Mom comes in Wednesday.
Drive to [insert 1 of 50 states here] Thursday.
Go to (awesome) new job interview Friday.
Find place to move my junk to Saturday.
Drive home and drink awesome beer Sunday. 

And now I feel supremely confident all of this will not only get done, but will be done with the efficiency of... a well oiled machine...that...
is made for doing....
things like this?
SURE!!
YES!!!

In the last year...
I have learned to be a gangsta.

Word.
To your mother.

Graduating Padawans

A journey takes many twists and turns.
Many unexpected.
I experienced a shocking range of emotions after discharging one of my favorite clients.
Mostly I felt conflicted about wanting to keep in contact with him.
The only thing that seemed to help sort through all of the confusion was writing.

Why would a therapist want to keep in contact with a client?
I've asked myself that question many times.
In school this is one of the first no-no's you hear about.
Therapy is a professional relationship, there must be strict boundaries for the good of the profession, therapist, and most especially the patient. And I definitely agree with this statement whole heartily.
Especially for a patient's sake.
Clear and professional boundaries are one of the only things that can cultivate true safety- which is necessary for real healing to occur.

At the time of the therapy a patient is in need of some kind of care, that is why they are a patient to begin with.
It's a time when they are vulnerable, and it is a therapist's duty and responsibility never to exploit that.
Does it happen? Yes. Exploitation of clients happens fairly frequently, unfortunately. 
It's a darker side of humanity- the abuse of authority.
Bosses and employees. Students and teachers. Therapists and patients. 
However, I refuse to clump every person I hear has done this into a group of disgusting lechers preying on the defenseless.

And in some respects I felt like a lecher.
Why?
Because I had broken this rule... I had given this client my email address for the purposes of contacting me after he had discharged and I had resigned my position as art therapist at my organization.

Yes.. this is what my psyche was doing. 

And this fucker wasn't going away. 

GOD ITS ANNOYING!!

SO- As I thought more and more about my unresolved feelings about this- I consulted this dude, Yalom.

Look at that jovial face!

Just kidding... half-kidding. 

Irvin D. Yalom is every therapist's guru and if he's not, there's something wrong with you because he does exactly what you should be doing- caring for people in the most authentic and honest way possible.

But before going into that- let me revisit my original question. 

Why do I want to keep in contact with this client... 

Because he helped me to grow as a person as well as a therapist by challenging the way I develop rapport and relationships with clients.

He wouldn't accept my usual medicine... he wanted more. 

He constantly demanded more from me. 

And what I found was that the more I stepped up to the plate, the deeper and more authentic the therapy became. 

He stepped up to the plate as well, which was remarkable to watch. 

He continued to surprise me with his strength and willingness to step outside of his comfort zone. 

And of course I felt an immense sense of pride. 

Not only was I witnessing him mature first hand, but I was also participating in my own maturity process in therapy... Stepping up to the plate and demonstrating my own strength and courage to dive deeper.

I found that I was bringing up shameful and embarrassing topics in therapy with little hesitation.

I plowed head first into understanding my counter-transference and how it related directly to my past and present relationships... 

And dude... I'm being dead serious about being Egg-cited!

In essence, this kid helped become a catalyst for some really important self-exploration, which I will always be thankful for.
And I obviously hope I was also able to shed some light on his own- which he has confirmed (but I will likely not believe it until he gets much older.)

Now, going back to Yalom.
In one of his books The Gift of Therapy he describes many issues that arise in the course of providing care for others. 
I've discussed the concept of the "wounded healer" before.
- How essentially we (therapists) are all fucked up and that's actually how he have developed a stronger level of empathy for others' pain and become committed to alleviating it.
In his book Yalom writes about Jung-
(Which if you're reading this for the first time, Jung is kind of the inspiration for this blog... so yea. Coincidence? I think not.) 

Jung often spoke of the increased efficacy of the wounded healer. He even claimed that therapy worked best when the patient brought the perfect salve for the therapist's wound and that if the therapist doesn't change then the patient doesn't either. Perhaps wounded healers are effective because they are more able to empathize with the wounds of the patient; perhaps it is because they participate more deeply and personally in the healing process.

That's exactly what I felt like happened. So much of the interactions in the therapy inspired and energized my own insight. And I loved every minute of it- even the difficult parts.

Now- I know this doesn't really answer the true question of IF I should continue to have contact with this client.

Yalom very often describes continued contact with his patients. He says not only could the wounded healer be helped, but being upfront with the patient about it could also be beneficial for them as well!

Furthermore, the patients' self-esteem is radically boosted by being of help to the therapist. I have had several opportunities to minister to important figures in my life.

He himself describes keeping contact with his old therapists and values their relationships after therapy has concluded. 

I often advised and comforted an elderly former therapist, saw him through a lengthy illness and was privileged to be at his side at the moment of his death. Despite revealing the frailty of my elders, these experiences served to enrich and strengthen me.

Basically... what this all boils down to is relationships.
Do I feel that I would be exploiting the therapist/patient relationship with further contact?
No I do not. 

HOWEVER, the answer as to whether or not I will keep in contact is still unanswered.
Despite feeling that this particular client relationship was different for me, and as much as I hope our interactions were transformative for him as well - the choice will have to be his.
I truly believe that any continuation of a relationship after therapy should be in the hands of the patient, on the patient's terms. 
He is a young man, fully capable of making his own decisions and not in any way cognitively impaired.
And should he make the decision to contact me, I will gladly respond.
He is no longer vulnerable, however he will always be in my care because I genuinely care for his well-being.
Should he decide to contact me, I will view our relationship as embarking on another journey.
One of mentorship.

Always in motion is the future. 

I hope my real Yoda days continue ahead of me.

Mentoring is a delight. 

And if I can't continue with this one, than I hope to start again with another client who sparks another wave of inspiration and exploration. 

But regardless, he'll always be my first padawan. 

Good luck, young one.

May the force be with you.

Penny for Thoughts

"Pennies are useless."

This kid and I have a history of going back and forth. He thinks he's the biggest waste of space and people usually try one of two things when they hear him say this...
1) No you're not! Why do you say that?
2) Okay fine, you ARE worthless! Now stop saying it!

Neither of those responses works out, it's the oldest catch 22 in the book when it comes to self-worth.
But never the less people get caught up in it, myself included.

So this time, it can't hurt to try something different.

This particular kid loves symbolism almost as much as I do- despite the fact that he continually lies straight to my face about it.
So why not set up a symbolic project that serves multiple purposes, the least of which providing a concrete example of how powerful perspective is and how deeply metaphor can hit home.

"Pennies are worthless."
When I hear him say that I hear the record player in his head repeat the same line. "I'm ordinary. I'm useless. I have no worth." And he'll flat out tell you this is exactly how he views himself as well. It's not a secret. And both responses that I listed above provide him with the same fuel to continue viewing himself as worthless.

So the intended plan is to present him with a penny.
Regular old penny.
One that I found in my change staff.
Present him with this penny and let him verify that this particular penny is in fact "virtually useless" "worthless" or of little value.
Encourage him to identify any markings that might distinguish it from others (scrapes, etc) so he can distinguish this particular penny from another in photographs.

The next step is to present the rules for the project.
I will take at least one photograph of the penny each week in a unique place.
When I see the client I will show him the photograph and transfer the penny to him.
It will then be his turn to find a scene or unique place to put the penny so that he can take an image of it as well.
So on and so forth.
In essence, the penny will be going on a journey as it is passed back and forth and we will be able to document this in photographs.
My goal for this project is to encourage him to see the value of the penny not in its worth based on what others dictate... but on what he dictates and what we dictate it to be together, within the context of the relationship (the passing back and forth).  
Because in the end, a person's value and worth are not determined by others- our value is determined by ourselves.

Personally, I'm still on the journey of understanding this for myself.
However, I think this project may help me more than him.
Regardless of whether I'm right (it helps me more) or wrong... it's the journey that counts.

LOLOLOL Counts...

I love it when my jokes make cents!!
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Gimme Gimme Gimmick

"I wanna wash my hands."
"Sorry, Mikey.* You have to wait until the end of group to wash your hands."

This line of dialogue continued throughout my entire session in 5 minute increments.
And no, we weren't using anything messy.
He didn't even have anything ON his hands to wash off. That's just one of his things.

I work with several kids on the autism spectrum. And if you don't know what that's like, let's just say it's always interesting!

My biggest pet peeve? Getting smacked.
Not too hard... There have been less than 5 times where I was really whacked. And only once across the face.
Obviously this is no fun.
It seems the opposite of what my work is intended to do.
I'm trying to help these kids after all!
Why the hell should I have to brace myself for a smack when I come back from vacation!?
Anyway- It's always a toss up as to whether I should get ready to be attacked or relax and give in for a hug.
Cause most of the time he's just coming in for a hug and gently taps my head with his head...
then...

You little...

With the other kids it's totally different.

"If you saw me on the street, would I be someone you would want to talk to?"
He's digging for something, I know it...
"What do you mean? What are you trying to ask?"
"Do you like me as a person."
Heart convulses...  Can't... give... in... It's the same thing... must do what is most helpful... Convulse
"What do you think?"
"I don't know."
Splat...
Meanwhile, I have done everything short of crossing the line OVER investing in him.
But... it's never enough because he believes himself to be unlovable.
I just want to shake him! Then hug him... and then shake him again!!

But, this is the work.
Day after day.

And with each kid its completely different.
Each one has their own storyline... their own battles to fight and many times it seems like I'm always on the losing side because what's being fought against are years and years of genetic and environmental programming, often of the worst kind.

So I usually daydream...
Daydream that one day I'll meet up with them on the street after they've grown up and are no longer pumped full of ridiculous hormones, or I'll get a random email, and they'll say, "What you did... that really meant a lot. Thank you."
And I'll try not to cry because what they mentioned was something I don't remember. Or even if I do remember what it was, it would have been the millionth time I had... but I'll know all the bullshit had been worth it.

And then...

Fuck this shit... I need a drink.

The Abyss of the Siren.

There are times when I avoid creating artwork.

I avoid making it because I know once the seal gets broken, a flood will more or less consume me with its wealth of information.

What I often do not expect is to begin making artwork, and continue and continue and still feel uncomfortable and dissatisfied with the problems I've been facing.
Or feeling as though I'm still only scratching the surface.

Let me be more specific.
There is a specific client that has been haunting my thoughts as of late.

Imagine you are dangling into nothingness, your hands gripping the edge of a precipice.
Your feet are dangling into a large black hole that appears to be sucking you in.
Now imagine feeling gravity shift.
The suction from the black tunnel lessens and you are able to kick a leg over the side, gain more stability. Until gravity shifts again and you are at the mercy of another wave of suction.

Now... this may seem strange, but imagine you enjoy this... this back and forth.. this thrill.
What a RUSH! Its so intriguing! 
You become mesmerized by the abyss.
It suddenly doesn't seem as black and dark as it once did.
You see blue, maybe water.. maybe sky! 
You hear music, beautiful music coming from its depths. 
Its sounds so peaceful... melodic. 
It even appears that the suction gives you respites at moments when you need them...
You can almost predict them now, like a game.
It seems like you may be beginning to understand this place, you're becoming friends. 
And it would be so easy to just let go and see what happens...
You could finally satiate your curiosity. 
You can really find out what's down there, where's the music coming from, why is it trying so hard sometimes to suck you in then letting go?
Isn't it worth a shot?!
And with that thought... the prospect of continuing to hold seems so much more daunting...
And letting go... might not be such a bad idea after all..

Only...
You've been warned this would happen...
There have been countless upon countless of people who have told you of this danger.
A hole like this one. 
Stories from people who have been down to the bottom of the abyss and somehow made it out again, tattered, shredded and bloody.
They speak of Sirens, singing out because they do not know what else to do.
The Sirens sing of loneliness so absolute... So haunting...
And you know that if you can just tell them the truth, prove to them that they are not alone, maybe there could be a chance!
Maybe YOU could be the one to finally end their sorrow?!
Perhaps the others were wrong somehow...
The song is being sung for you... they don't understand...

Then the precipice shakes...
Silence...
You must have waited too long...
Are the Sirens upset with you?
Deafening silence. 
And you feel an ache in your chest being to rise.
The loss of the suction.
The loss of the beautiful songs and the luring whispers as well.
The darkness returns. 
You want to hear the voices again, but deep down you know the others were right.
They predicted this would happen.
Now is your time to climb out, make a run for it!
Only you still believe there might be some ounce of truth to you remaining where you are...
The others also spoke of a shred of hope...
But it was often only achieved with great knowledge, experience and insight.

You consider this possibility.
Do you have what it takes? 
It would require much more than you have at the moment...
Many more resources...
You cannot play around anymore.
This is no longer a game.
The Siren can be saved.
And if it truly wants to be saved, they must listen to your song as well. 
But it cannot be from the bottom...
You must remain where you are...

And with that decision, it becomes clear what you must do...

This is not the most comfortable place to be...
It is not the most safe place to be...
But it is thrilling...
And it does take much more energy than you originally thought...
And you don't know if it will be worth it in the end, but you are trying.

And maybe one day the Siren will see and hear your own song...

"First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never welcome him home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. There is a great heap of dead men's bones lying all around, with the flesh still rotting off them. Therefore pass these Sirens by, and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear; but if you like you can listen yourself, for you may get the men to bind you as you stand upright on a cross-piece half way up the mast, and they must lash the rope's ends to the mast itself, that you may have the pleasure of listening. If you beg and pray the men to unloose you, then they must bind you faster." 


The piece that inspired this post.

Its comforting to know that the answers are out there somewhere....
I just have to trust my own process...


Now... It's time to invest in a vertical tent.

The gas has it.

I believe I've said this before, and not much has changed since I did.
The only thing that has is the continued support for the idea as far as I am concerned.
The idea I'm talking about?
That change is coming soon. A new creative boom that will change the way in which we function in a global society. Not unlike Renaissance.
And in many ways, it's already happening. 

This article describes it well- Art as Research.

"It is clear that pressing global challenges, such as economic inequality, migration, climate change, aging societies and food security, present problems too difficult for any one discipline to solve. It will take teams of thinkers working across disciplines. And, given the interconnectivity and global scale of these issues, the solutions will have to look and feel completely new. Artists, with their preference for unconventional approaches and unique forms of representation, are adept at this type of daring and creative problem solving. Increasingly welcomed into these conversations, they can help move consciousness forward, as they always have."

This type of inquiry is what we have been taught to follow. Intuitive practices. Trial and error. Searching and seeking answers in unexpected ways.

For example:

I have a group of boys that are notoriously rambunctious. At least in my sessions. They talk and talk and talk and they love sarcasm and sharp remarks. Don't get me wrong, I love it too! But there comes a time when in interferes with our overall goal, which is to explore expressing ourselves using nonverbal means- art.
So one day I talk to my supervisor about it and she suggests doing a 180 and surprising them with whoopie cushions- almost to force them to interact nonverbally.
It worked brilliantly.
They loved it.
Not to mention I surprised the heck out of them by "letting one rip" before they knew what we were doing.
The looks on their faces were priceless!

Quote, "Are you for real? Did that just happen?"

ANYWAY- From them playing around with whoopie cushions (and kazoos) I was able to glean some really great information about the way these kids function in the world- whether it refers to their interactions with others (feeding off of competition) or themselves (excelling at one or two coping mechanisms).

The overall message is clear.
If you seek an answer, you can find it.
Especially if you are willing to look in unexpected places.

Like the space between a couch cushion and some pants.
Let the research continue.

The yoga say WHAT?!

As a gift to myself I have begun to attend yoga classes again.
This is not the first time I began yoga during this time of year and it may be because during these months it can be more difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Winter has a profound effect on many people, and maybe just that little bit of mindful breathing and positive calming can make all the difference.

This image depicts a tree pose in yoga.
Its therapeutic application may help with sciatica- which is a collection of symptoms involving the compression/irritation of the sciatic nerve in the lower back.
According to WebMD specific symptoms include:

• Pain in the rear or leg that is worse when sitting
• Burning or tingling down the leg
• Weakness, numbness, or difficulty moving the leg or foot
• A constant pain on one side of the rear
• A shooting pain that makes it difficult to stand up

Now... with this being said, I am not claiming to have sciatica. What I will say is that I have been experiencing an increased amount of lower back pain for many months and also experience tingling sensations down my legs and others areas more frequently.

Since performing yoga more frequently, I've felt some of that pain decrease.
The tree pose in particular seemed to be the most comfortable although it requires much concentration and balance to perform.

Also, the more I attend these classes the more I learn that as a child I would often contort my body into these positions for fun, the tree pose being one of them.

The shoulder stand, another.
So in some ways it feels like I am taking a step back into the carefree playfulness of my younger years.

Now, yoga may not be for everyone.
Sometimes I even find myself questioning "They want me to do WHAT?"
But that's also very normal.
We don't live in a society that typically understands or values these concepts of body and mind.
That's what exploration is all about though...
...Finding what works for you.

And so... apparently both of these positions I have spoken about have been incorporated into the regime of the ever elusive Boba Fett.

I will be mastering all of these...to become an assassin of back pain and the stress of life.

OH- you were wondering what the whole gang would look like doing yoga poses?!?
Well say no more, here you are my friends... Enjoy!

January kinda sucks so far.

It appears that the New Year has alternative plans for me at the moment.

My grandfather passed away last week.
This week, I hit a pedestrian while making a right hand turn.

Now... both of these sentences sound much worse than I believe the reality. However, without the whole story a person is left to their own devices to assume whatever they'd like.

A grandparent passing can be a very difficult time, especially if it is unexpected- which this was.
He had a major heart attack and was not found by his wife until the next day...
He was a practical man. Showed care as much as he could for living so far away from his family.
He also did not want any services or flowers- so in mourning I lit candles and spoke to other family members about his passing. After the weekend there was some peace with the situation, which I believe is the way he would have wanted it.

Last night while coming home from work I was stopped at a red light and was looking at oncoming traffic, waiting to turn right. There was a jogger who had stopped before the crosswalk and when I had stepped on the gas to go, a man was walking in the crosswalk from the other direction and was in front of my car. I immediately stepped on the gas and it had appeared that I had startled him. I saw his arms raise and he slid down the bumper of my car and remained there. The jogger had come over and stated the he believed I must have knocked the wind out of him and that it looked like he would be fine. The man had a cell phone in his hand and a lit cigarette and when I couldn't figure out how to use his phone to call 911- he called.
I tried to help him up but he complained of his elbow hurting. After attempting to help him many times, and others attempting to help him up he remained stationary, saying he would prefer not to move. While waiting for the police and ambulance he made several statements like "I feel dizzy." "My neck hurts." "My back is tingling." "My leg hurts."
When the police arrived he said the same things to them, that he did not want to move until the ambulance got there... and he asked them for a light for his cigarette that had gone out in the meantime. The EMTs came on the scene and tried to help him up, but the man maintained that his neck hurt. So they placed a neck brace on him and asked if he thought he needed a stretcher. The man said yes.
Now... it is not my place to judge whether this man did or did not feel pain or have injuries. He was escorted to a nearby hospital. There was no damage to my vehicle and I was not issued a citation. The jogger, the police, and the EMTs all expressed doubts as to the severity of the accident.

... I'll be contacted by an insurance adjuster within the next 1-2 days. 

Apparently this happens more often than not.

Guess I'll be waiting and hope for the best.