Sometimes I wonder why I blog. I thought I'd be posting the latest research on stress and its effects on health. I'd also thought I'd be sharing more about sports psychology or the birth world. Two different worlds, I know, yet they both have many similarities. That will all have to wait, as I feel compelled to digress.
This blog may be about all of the above. Yet, as of late, I believe that it's more important for me to share with the world how I, a mental health professional, live my life. Do I use the tools that I profess will help those with anxiety when I too experience such? Do I breathe to calm my mind? I just don't know that many counselors who share themselves in this manner. Our industry teaches many of us to refrain from sharing of the self, because it may interfere with our clients own personal growth.
I'm done with this belief. So done. I now see that the most important thing IS to share myself. In the psychology world it would be called "the therapeutic use of self", where someone else grows through what I share. If my writing can help more people than those who come to my office, then I believe I'm helping the world become a better place. The waiting felt like forever when it came to preparing for my father's heart surgery (the picture shows him with my mom, at one of his favorite places -the beach). I could tell you I failed, however, that would be a lie. Nothing is a failure. Everything happens for a reason. And this gives me faith to "keep on keepin' on" when the biggest curve ball EVER gets thrown my way. My father's impending quintuple bypass surgery was the curve ball.
I cried these last few weeks. I saw images of myself attending my father's funeral. I pictured my mother's phone call telling me that he died, while feverishly sobbing through her words. I also began thinking, "How am I going to travel back east when it's the end of school for my kids? Should they come back? Will they want to? Will they even remember their grandfather years from now?" These are the moments when my mind is spinning off into the future and I watch myself fragmenting right before my own eyes. If there was a snowball that begins to roll down a hill, only growing bigger and bigger with its momentum, that would be the feeling I find myself creating. That's the key word here- myself. I do this to myself! Thank goodness, I have done the work to know when this happens, understand psychologically why I have been wired this way, and then begin to rewire my brain for change.
Fragmentation is one reason why clients come to see me. They don't like how they feel. Call it lack of groundedness, or what my yoga teacher refers to as, "the monkey mind." These clients know that they just need new tools for their tool kit in order to get out of this state. As easy as it is to "help" them gain an understanding as to why they do what they do, I'm only as good at this as when I myself grow and gain a better sense of who I am. I have grown. That much I know.
Years ago, I think I would've created a pitty party for myself as I waited for my father's surgery to occur. That was me, the "victim". I would want everyone around me to feel just as badly as I felt, almost suggesting that no one could feel joy. No one could go on living there life. Including myself. That was then. This is now. And the "now" brings the following ideas/tools that you may use with my blessing if you find yourself in a similiar circumstance with your loved one:
1) Make sure your loved one knows that he/she is loved by you. I knew my father knew this. I just wanted to be sure that if anything was to happen, I wouldn't have ANY regret for not saying what I should have said if something were to happen.
2) Offer to pay for your loved one to experience some form of healing prior to surgery (albeit a massage, energy work, etc.) I paid for my father to receive a Reiki healing session so that he could feel completely relaxed going in for the surgery. The miracle was that he accepted, having never done anything like this before, and could honestly report back that he felt relaxed and in a positive state of mind. This approach offered a way for him to know I could "love him from afar" (his words).
3) Send the surgeon a care package. From all my work in the healing world, I knew that it was important for me to feel like my dad wasn't just another patient, or one of the many going "under the knife." The package included a letter thanking the surgeon for the care my father would recieve, a card stock, cut out and painted heart to honor this surgeon for all the lives he had helped to save and photos of my father. The letter said that I wanted this doctor to know just how extraordinary my father is, and that he's loved by many. (I don't even know if the surgeon opened the package. That wasn't the point. It made me feel better, and that's all that mattered.) Find your own way of creating a care package and send it off sealed with a kiss, a prayer or simply the stamp from the post office. You'll be glad you did. I was!
4) Plan your day of self care on the actual date of your loved one's surgery. For me, this meant asking my children to think of their grandfather when they were at school, and hugging my husband tightly. I meditated and blessed the surgery room and all those caring for my dad. I imagined a white light moving from the top of his head and moving down throughout his toes. The white light was suppposed to feel like the sun on a hot summer day, warming his skin (he loves the beach). I then met a friend at the local gym and had an intense "cardio" work-out in honor of my heart, and my soon to be father's "new" one. Another friend offered to take me to lunch. I told her I loved her. My heart was open and so thankful for her gift of being there for me in a time of need. And now, I am writing this for all eyes to read. So cathartic. So healing. The words are just flowing.
I won't tell you about what I did when I left to meet my friend for lunch. Alright, I will. I backed my car out of the drive only to hit the neighbor's car. This was during the window of time that I thought I'd be getting the phone call letting me know that the surgery went well. It wasn't happening fast enough. Was I fragmented? Yes. So here's my "therapeutic use of self" for the world: Human life is so precious. I felt it today. It's more important than knowing where the money will come from to pay for the big car dent on my neighbor's bright red, shiny chevy. It's more important than all the "things" we think we need, all the items on our "to-do" list. Fragmentation can literally suck the life out of me. What good am I to myself and those around me if I'm operating from that place? I am back now. I am centered. I used my tools, and I truly know that this moment is here and then it's gone. What will you do in this moment to honor yourself and your loved one? What will you do to get out of fragmentation? I'm routing for you!
blessings to you!
~Lisa
p.s. I will be opening my "pitty party" fund soon in order for you all to pay for the neighbor's car to be fixed. Thanks in advance!!! :)
