What fun!

I recently had the opportunity to work with a 5-year-old girl.  "Mandy" came in with her dad and the three of us sat in my waiting room and chatted for a while.  She was adorable and very articulate.  She was also very serious and there was a tension in her face and body that made me sad in someone so young.

Mandy's parents have been divorced for a while, but a recent move had churned up all kinds of issues for her.  She told me that when she was with her dad, she missed her mom and when she was with her mom she missed her dad.  At her new school she just wanted to be alone.  She missed her old house.  When she spoke of missing the house before that one, her dad gently reminded her that she was an infant when they lived there and couldn't possibly remember it.  Very serious she looked at him and said, "But I miss it."

There, in my waiting room, as she was securely sitting next to her dad, I asked her to imagine a string between her and the first house.  In response to my questions, she described the string as being "thin and invisible." I offered her a pair of golden scissors to cut the string and she calmly did so.  When I asked her how that felt she smiled and said, "I feel happy."



I asked her to imagine the house she'd just moved from.  She closed her eyes and nodded.  "Imagine a cord between you and that house."  This time the cord was thick and heavy and was covered with "a hundred thorns."  We agreed that a simple pair of golden scissors wouldn't cut through it.  She excitedly thought of a big pair of scissors that she'd seen somewhere that would work.  And they did.  When I asked how she felt after cutting that big, thorny cord she smiled and said, "I feel happy!"

Then I asked if she would like me to tell her a story that I could record for her to listen to anytime.  She nodded and accompanied me into my office.  There, we talked about The Wizard of Oz and how Glinda the Good Witch floated around in a pretty bubble.  Would she like to have a big bubble to float around in?  In that bubble, she'd always feel calm and happy.  "Yes," she answered.  Between us we worked out some details that I wove into a ten-minute recording.

By the time Mandy and her dad left, there was no tension in Mandy's face or body.  She hugged me warmly and there was light in her eyes and smile.  What we did together was so simple and yet so impactful for that sweet little one. 

I am grateful to Mandy's mom for taking a chance on my work to help her daughter.  Thinking of Mandy's "I feel happy!" still makes me smile.

Changing the Default Settings

When I returned from the 6-Day TAT (Tapas Acupressure Technique) Symposium, I felt like a new person:  light, free, happy in ways I hadn't even imagined possible for me.  My work with clients this week has been phenomenal and I know that this is a direct result of the healing I had.

 

But as the days pass, I'm noticing an undercurrent of unsettledness.   

 

Evidently (as Grandma would say) the shift from suffering/struggling to the new paradigm is not happening smoothly but rather in fits and starts. There's a part of me that is clinging desperately to the old fears and chaos -- I can feel it and I can see it in my mind's eye.

 

 

Many of us have such a history of change ending up very, very badly -- even resulting in death.  Such deep neural pathways!

 

But change doesn't have to result in the worst.  It can absolutely result in the best, right?  What a concept!  A brand new concept that is just not quite the default yet.

 

When I can take a few steps back and look at it all from that Hawk's perspective, it's richly fascinating.  In it, not so much :-)

 

So, when I finish this post, I will be doing a full TAT session with myself, engaging this stubbornly fearful part that's only comfortable in chaos.

 

I'll let you know how it goes.