It was not that long ago that I was writing here about the treacherous ice on the road near my house that caused my only bike wreck of the winter. I referred to the ice in that blog post as a metaphor for various elements in my life that had been unseen by me and thus caused some recklessness or even damage to others due to my blind sightedness. Well, it’s been a couple months since I let my painful and inflamed wrist go untreated for that time. On Monday I went for an x-ray (finally!) and got the good news that there were no breaks although there was plenty of swelling clearly illuminated. I’ll go back to the hospital in a week to see a hand specialist to see if some of the pain and swelling can be alleviated. So, here’s to not knowing. Continue reading
Musings from the Margins
American Caste System
I have been thinking a lot about vulnerability and how it shows up. I have been thinking about how I can allow my own vulnerability to be a guide into deeper connection with others. I am also curious about the ways in which vulnerability can reveal the nuances of power, privilege, and oppression within interpersonal dynamics. There was a specific conversation that occurred a few weeks ago that had me feeling particularly vulnerable and has given me great pause to reflect on the intersection of vulnerability and systemic racism. Continue reading
Soul Medicine
While interning with Art and Spirituality, Common Art, and Café Emmanuel I frequently find myself explaining who I am and that I am studying to become an art therapist and mental-health counselor. Recently while at prison, one of the women asked me if I could prescribe her pain medication. I said that while I could not prescribe her any medication, I could prescribe her some meditation. This received a round of laughs from the table and others who had heard the exchange. We live in a fast-paced world where I, for one, can say choosing the option that takes the least amount of work to fix a problem seems extremely appealing. Have a headache? Take a pill with a large glass of water and presto, headache no more. In addition, I can take a moment to think about the cause of the headache in the first place, most likely for me being dehydrated, to avoid it in the future. Continue reading
Let’s work with what we’ve got!
A collapsing infrastructure is a time to connect and rebuild stronger.
On Monday night when the women came in for Art and Spirituality, we were greeted with a mix of excitement, eagerness, curiosity, and some mellowness. Overall I felt like everyone was glad to be back in that room with paper on the tables and art supplies ready to go. Since Art and Spirituality happens on Monday’s and so do all the blizzards in Boston, we have not been able to hold the group in four weeks. Part of our weekly opening prayer is “What we want is certainty. What we get is ambiguity.” I found myself referencing this prayer a lot in the past week. Continue reading
A Gentle and Generous Presence
This week I’ve been thinking a lot about power, leadership, and how these notions intersect with age. This comes to mind when I think about the group that Jessi, Bekah, and I started called Café Arts, which came out of a process of brainstorming ideas about how to provide an intermodal space for safe exploration of self as well as build deeper community connection for participants a part of Café Emmanuel. It has been an interesting experience in group process; Café Arts has been held in a collaborative spirit since its inception. From the design of the flier, to the overall structure of the groups, to our co-facilitation, the dynamics, which have existed and continue to blossom among us, have been the central piece of the project for me. This centrality is further emphasized in my mind by the reality that the group participants have been so varied and sparse throughout its time. Bekah, Jessi, and I have been the stable presence throughout and our group leadership has been quite fascinating and dynamic. Continue reading
Supportive Community
Over the last several weeks I have been taking a step back and looking at the therapeutic essence of the work my co-interns and I have been doing with Art and Spirituality, Common Art, and Café Emmanuel. As I look at the big, all-encompassing picture, I am able to see many similarities. However, the one I feel most drawn to and inspired by is community and the support around that community which we have formed together.
In a music therapy course I took last fall we were taught a song: “Come to the circle, bring what you have to bring, and take what you need.” As I allowed my experiences to stew in my mind, I was drawn to the image of making vegetable soup with the culinary artists at Common Art. This image of the vegetable stew is both literal and symbolic, in my eyes. We came together to make the soup, only able to use the ingredients we had on hand. We were able to create something that was much more than the sum of its parts. What the artists experienced was at once a creative outlet to express their connection and contribute to the group, and at the same time a filling meal to keep them warm as well as nourished. By the end, I felt all individuals involved had been nourished in body, soul and spirit. Continue reading
Miracles
I witnessed a miracle of life last week at Emmanuel Church. While speaking to marginally-housed women at Common Art, I saw a married couple walk in with a 15-day-old baby. The women and I stopped what we were doing and went over to see the adorable newborn. Where before the women’s faces were downcast and desolate, the sight of this young creature completely transformed them. They smiled, their eyes lit up, they laughed, and they cooed at the baby boy. I was almost as excited to see the baby as I was to see the miraculous change in the Common Art attendees. Who knew that one baby could be the source of calm, peace, and happiness for so many people? It was miraculous to me.
A similar transformation takes place on Thursday afternoons at Emmanuel Church, where I teach ballroom dance lessons to the LGBT members of Café Emmanuel. I think that something magical happens when we move our bodies to the beat of a song. I watch as nervousness morphs into timid fun, which then becomes giddy laughter and joie de vivre. It doesn’t matter if someone makes a mistake or does not understand the foot patterns right away. The point is that we are all connecting with our bodies in a joyful way while unloading the burdens from our stressful week. It is a time where we can all let loose without fear of being judged by others.
The women at the prison often make a similar comment; they are so very grateful to have just one moment out of the week (at the Arts and Spirituality group) where they can relax and enjoy the simplicity of card making. During that weekly session, they do not have to worry about all of the complicated aspects of their lives. I believe that we humans have a tremendous amount to worry about on a daily basis, so it is miraculous that we are able to set things aside and enjoy anything in the present. Moments are fleeting, but perhaps we have more miracles in our lives than we previously thought.
-Evey, 9 February 2014
Called In
Yesterday while riding my bicycle from my home to my co-intern’s house to ride together to the prison for Art and Spirituality, I got into a minor accident on the ice that invisibly coated the side of the road I was traveling on. It was not until my rear wheel began slipping that I noticed the sunlight reflecting off of the patch of ice that was directly under me. As my bike slid out from under me and I slammed onto the pavement, I had a brief moment of uncertainty about how bad the accident actually was. In the moments that mark the climax of a crisis it seems as if my rational thinking goes out the window along with my normal sensory experiencing. Then, as quickly as it happened, the wave of feelings and fear come flooding back in like a tidal wave. Yesterday, I didn’t know if I was going to look down and see blood as I stood up and grabbed the frame of my bicycle. Luckily, I suffered no major injuries other than a potentially sprained wrist, and I was able to get back on my trusty steed and ride away fairly unscathed. Continue reading
Window of Tolerance
‘Tis the season, for busy schedules, hustle and bustle and weather concerns. I am feeling the pressure of finals and assessments culminating the end of my third semester of graduate school. As I sit to write this blog post, I realize I need motivation. I have a desire to express myself artistically yet an inability to motivate myself to do so. Where is that coming from? I am realizing that in the midst of all that is going on in my life I am outside of my window of tolerance. The window of tolerance is a term coined by mindfulness master, Daniel Siegel, who describes it as an area of arousal in which we can function. Certain stressors can push us outside the window’s threshold either above the threshold causing anxiety or strong emotions or below the threshold causing us to shut down or become passive. Continue reading
Letting Go
I had a poignant interaction with a woman last night during Art and Spirituality that has left me in deep reflection. After our opening circle at the prison, where we each say our names and a prayer is read, participants began moving around the room to find their necessary supplies and identify a seat. Without fully knowing why, I had a keen intuitive sense that I needed to sit next to a specific participant who was one of the first women seated. The other participants were still shuffling around, locating the various art supplies they were intending to use and perusing the black and white images for coloring. I recalled that the woman that I sat next to entered the space in seemingly high spirits, but as soon as I sat down next to her and turned to greet her, I noticed that there were tears in her eyes. She explained to me, in a low voice, that she found out early in the day that her mother was just diagnosed with terminal bone cancer and was in the hospital. She continued to share the enormous pain that she felt not knowing if she was going to get to say goodbye to her mother due to her incarceration. Her pain was palpable. Knowing that there was very little that I could do to console her, I simply placed one hand on her shoulder and offered her my steady eye contact and fullness of presence. I said very little to her as she continued to share about the pain of not knowing. Continue reading