The Silent Treatment

Silence. Quiet. Calm. Those words are a distant memory to most busy adults I know, whose days are a blur of work meetings, waiting in the school pick-up lane, chores at home and, if they're lucky, a few precious, uninterrupted moments spent with friends and loved ones. Many of us report not finding a space of quiet in our daily lives for more than a second or two before we are pulled back to what we believe (or are told) are our pressing obligations and innate responsibilities as parents, workers, partners.

A FORCED HIATUS
 I didn't realize how long I'd lived without quiet until a recent surprise hospital stay. Now, I wouldn't recommend a bowel obstruction as a regularly-scheduled interruption to your daily life, but four days on my back, hooked up to a nasal gastric tube, IV pump and painkillers, was a forced hiatus from my constantly growing list of "to-do's." What I discovered, once the initial pain of my condition had been eased by my treatment, was that I was prevented from "doing" much of anything, other than laying in the hospital bed, flipping through television channels and trying to get myself and my IV pole to and from the bathroom without becoming entangled in plastic tubing. It wasn't long before the usual chatter in my head started to fade to a faint background murmur. Sure, I could have spent my mental energy worrying about my condition, catastrophizing about possible treatment options or scrolling through work tasks that were being left undone. But, despite my usual anxious personality, I found that my mind fell into a kind of silence I don't ever recall experiencing. Maube it was knowing that I couldn't accomplish any life tasks from a hospital room, or that I knew my spouse and child were banking the home fires just fine (with the help of neighborhood take out, of course.) Maybe it was the "permission" of the hospital staff to get as much rest as possible and focus on my SELF only, rather than all my usual life tasks. Whatever the reason, I found myself, for the first time in my adult life, with NOTHING TO THINK ABOUT. Foreign, indeed.

"WISE" MIND 
I've long been a devotee of meditation, and I did spend a bit of time meditating on mantras of wellness and renewal. But I kept finding myself drawn to observing the silent space within me. What a unique experience to feel my brain nearly "empty" of chatter, judgement, list-making and dialogues that make up my internal world. Like viewing a serene landscape, residing in the quiet of my mind brought me a sense of calm and hopefulness that I hadn't known I'd been missing. In that space of emptiness, I sensed an expansiveness and lightness that brought with it peace and gratitude. I told my best friend that the sensation was like hearing the wind whistle through my body. Two weeks post-hospitalization, my mind has reverted to its "normal" pace and the lists and self-talk and internal noise are just a few decibels below deafening. Clearly, I have work to do to get back to that restorative space of quiet. But knowing that it's possible to dial down my brain, to live for a few moments in a void from all noise and clatter, is a revelation I will strive to replicate as often as I can. I know now that peace and ease -- and wisdom -- dwell there.

(Mis)Adventures in Nature

We couldn't be sure what was twisted in a "figure 8" in the middle of that Carolina dirt road. Was it a torn and rotting piece of rubber? Was it a strip of fabric that had blown into the path of our rental car? Was it . . . A SNAKE?!? My eagle-eyed wife spotted it first, as we retreated down the dusty driveway of the winery we had just visited. When my admittedly wine-glazed gaze finally settled on the quiet mound, I nearly shrieked in delight. A REAL SNAKE, out in THE WILD!

MOTHER NATURE = DANGER!
 Here was my chance to commune with nature, to observe a majestic, colorful slithering invertebrate in its natural habitat, slinking from the knee-high grass, into the rutted, dry dirt of the winery drive, possibly headed toward the murky creek on the other side of the road. Before I knew it, my excitement propelled me out of the idling car. Look! There it is! A REAL LIVE SNAKE, uncoiling before me as a I approached. "It's BEAUTIFUL!" I called out over my shoulder to my wife, who was tapping out an SOS on the car's horn. Ignoring her calls to return to the car (to be honest, she used some colorful adjectives in her request) I couldn't help but gape at the gracefulness of this creature as it raised its kite-shaped head at my approach. I took in the complex pattern of chocolate brown and coral orange that marked its skin, noting the undulations that shifted it's appearance as it moved toward me. My sentimental nature was enhanced by the several glasses of wine I had enjoyed at the winery's tasting table. I crouched down, my face mere feet from the cold-blooded creature. "You're such a PRETTY snake! aren't you? Aren't you a PRETTY SNAKE!" At that moment, my new friend seemed to levitate, the upper third of his ropy body rising vertically as if pulled from above. I'm not sure if it was the snake's hiss or my wife's hysterical screeching from the safety of the car, but I toppled backward just as the snake lunged in my direction. Somehow I managed to coordinate my limbs enough to scramble crab-like away from the snake's immediate vicinity and catapulted myself toward the car door that my wife had thrown open. Once we were assured that I had suffered no more than a dust-covered behind from my adventure, we proceeded to take pictures of the snake from the safety of our rental. We were surprised to hear from locals who viewed our photos that my snake friend was a copperhead, a venomous variety common to the region.

BEAUTY AS THE BEAST 
I was shocked and embarrassed to admit that the possibility of getting bitten had never entered my mind: I'd been too excited to see such a gorgeous specimen up close. Once I had spent more time reflecting on the experience, though, I realized that I am often taken in by the glittery, the pretty and flamboyantly unique. I am easily seduced by pleasant packaging and dramatic flair. My run-in with the copperhead was a reminder that beauty can belie a genuine threat, and that the enticement of the rare and unique can also be an invitation to pain and fear. I will never lose my appreciation of nature and it's wonders, but perhaps I will now consider as well that just because something is pretty, doesn't mean I have to invite it into my life. Some wonders are best viewed from a secure distance. And definitely best enjoyed fully sober.

Seeing Through New Eyes: EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) Therapy

Traumatic events can create debilitating emotions, thoughts and beliefs that can cause a sensation of being "frozen in time." Sometimes, survivors feel they are doomed to emotionally re-live traumatic experiences. Specialized therapies, like Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) Therapy, work with the brain's functions to allow the individual to resume normal functioning without the sense of "re-living" the event. Memories of the event still exist, but the client experiences them as less upsetting. In EMDR, the therapist induces a pattern of rapid directional eye movements by waving one or two fingers in front of the client's eyes. The client is gently guided to simply turn his awareness to what is coming up without trying to control the content. Simultaneously, the client processes the information until it is less and less disturbing. Over time, the disturbing memory and it's associated feelings, beliefs and sensory material can be worked through until the memory is associated with a positive belief about the self. While the effectiveness of EMDR has been replicated many times in clinical studies, it's exact mechanisms that produce such positive outcomes are still unknown. Theorists suggest that the use of rapid eye movements relieves the anxiety survivors associate with a traumatic event, allowing the individual to examine the experience from a more detached perspective, similar to watching a movie of what happened.

Arbor Counseling Center's staff has experience providing this effective therapy. Clinicians in various offices have completed both Level I and Level II training in EMDR and are available to help clients utilize this healing therapy. If you have questions about EMDR or would like to schedule an appointment with one of our clinicians, email our office managers or call (847)913-0393 x101.

Arbor Counseling Center is offering a professional education workshop on EMDR on Thursday, April 24, 2014, from 10 am to 12 pm. The cost is $50, and 2 hours of continuing education credits are available. Scott Stolarick, LCPC, a therapist in our Gurnee office, will lead the workshop, entitled "The Basics of EMDR." Scott has practiced EMDR for many years, and is a seasoned counselor with experience working with a wide variety of populations and treatment settings. Any clinician interested in registering for this workshop can do so by emailing slorenz@arborcounselingcenter.com or calling Shawna Lorenz at 847-913-0393 x128. The workshop will be held at Village Bar and Grill, 48 Raupp Rd., Buffalo Grove, IL 60089.

Gaining and Growing from Group Therapy

Group therapy can be a dynamic, productive adjunct to individual, couples or family therapy modalities. Group therapy can provide clients with the benefits of multiple perspectives, empathic support and the ability to practice relationship and conflict-management skills. Groups can provide an arena in which clients can re-enact, and thus repair, troublesome relationship patterns. Clients report finding the support and empathy offered by their cohorts in group to be a powerful source of healing. Clients who have difficulty trusting others can be challenged to practice boundary setting, emotional expression and appropriate testing of others. Groups generally fall into three categories.

CHOOSING THE RIGHT GROUP FOR YOU 
PROCESSING GROUPS: These groups provide opportunities for members to gain insight, to develop healthy relationship skills, and obtain support and validation from others. Processing groups are generally led by a clinician, who helps to facilitate discussion, keep the treatment space safe, and guide the group when challenges arise. Groups may focus on a shared diagnosis (i.e., depression, trauma recovery, divorce recovery) or may be open to clients who are looking for an experience of safe sharing and support that can include a range of life topics, developmental issues and a focus on personal growth. These groups may meet for a set amount of weeks, or may be ongoing for as long as members wish to attend.

PSYCHOEDUCATIONAL GROUPS: These groups include a didactic, "teaching" format in which the clinician provides information and education to clients about a specific skill set. For example, dialectic behavioral therapy (DBT) offers members skills to regulate emotions, tolerate distress and learn to relate to others in healthier ways. In our practice, we have used bibliotherapy in a group setting, utilizing a book about growing up with an emotionally unhealthy mother to organize members around a common theme, provide skills and insights about how that experience impacted them, and to teach clients about resiliency, forgiveness and rebuilding. I've worked in groups of legally-involved young people to teach anger management skills. Psychoeducational groups may or may not include time for processing, sharing and relationship-building among members. These groups tend to be time-limited to the length of the course curriculum.

SUPPORT GROUPS: Twelve-Step groups like Alcoholics Anonymous, Al-Anon and Narcotics Anonymous may be some of the most well-known types of support groups. In these groups, members generally convene around a shared topic or concern (bereavement, addiction, a family member with mental illness) for purposes of gaining support, reducing isolation and learning effective methods of coping with their situation. Some support groups, like AA, are member-led and operate on an agreement of confidentiality for its members. Others, such as groups for family members of someone struggling with mental illness, may include a professional facilitator. Support groups are often free to attend and can be ongoing.

If you or your counselor think a group experience could provide you with unique insights or kick-start the pace of your treatment, seriously consider the benefits of group therapy. The Internet has listings of supportive, psychoeducational and process-oriented groups in your area. Just as trying a new exercise regimen can work out muscles that may have been missed by previous physical activity, group therapy can offer a new depth and breadth to your growth and healing.

Walking in the Garden of Grief

Loss is universal to human experience. We cannot live our days without saying "good-bye" to something, whether it be a person, an experience, a stage of life, or a feeling. And loss doesn't necessarily become easier to manage as we move through the lifespan. I've witnessed unbearable grief with a client mourning the loss of her 90-year-old father, who had lived a long and vibrant life. She reported that his advanced age only provided her with more joyous moments to miss, more time shared that she had to release to the past. I've cried with young children who have lost a pet, been uprooted by a move across country, and been forever changed by the death of a parent. Loss of jobs, family homes, precious mementos in a flood -- grief and letting go are practices we may try to avoid, but will find us wherever we hide.

THE FINAL FAREWELL
Bidding farewell to one we have loved threatens to crush the life out of our barely-beating heart. Acknowledging a life dream that has died is as real a death as any other. In our modern culture, we have few models for effective grieving. While religious rituals may be helpful, often clients report the day-to-day living with their losses continues to be a struggle long after the loss is first experienced. And recent research suggests that grieving doesn't follow any formulaic process, as we once believed. Everyone experiences loss a bit differently, in different stages and directions, for vastly different periods of time. Time MAY help to ease the exquisite ache of a loss; for some, however, grief is the background for the rest of their days. Like the saying goes, "We won't make it out of here alive," nor will our journey through life be unmarked by loss, grief and sadness. But in our grieving is the imprint of our love for that departed soul, our joy for that stage of life, our pride in our accomplishments in that profession. Our grief mirrors our investment in living, a testament that proclaims "I was here. I loved, I created, I cared. I lived." A worthy epitaph, indeed.

Come to the Dark Side, Luke

DARK SHADOWS 
In the modern era, psychologist Carl Jung popularized the concept that all human beings harbor "shadow selves", parts of ourselves that contain impulses, thoughts, actions and emotions that we label as "bad," destructive, unsavory, even humiliating. Archetypal psychologists reference sources from our Greek mythology to our cultural unconscious to highlight ways our "dark sides" inform our lives and the lenses through which we see the world. Most of us, though, are, at best, embarrassed of these shadowy selves and, at worst, terrified of what they mean about who we are. Even in the therapy room, both client and counselor focus on helping the client leave behind pathology, pain and bad habits. We encourage forward movement, an embracing of health, positive choices and productive insight. But much can be learned by studying, even welcoming, our shadows and the rich material that accompanies their energy.

THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL
What would summer be without winter as its counterpoint? How would we understand love and compassion without knowing callousness, fear and hatred? What we call "darkness" is a part of the continuum of human experience, and those shadows have as much to teach us as the lighter spots marked with joy, peace and freedom. Jealousy, for example, is a soul-cringing, corrosive feeling, a poison that curdles our stomachs all the while it is churning our hearts and minds into terrifying fantasies. And yet jealousy's presence also indicates a desire to be connected to another, to be known and safe and important to our beloved, the craving for consistency and certainty in our affairs of the heart. Certainly, we know there are no guarantees in life, much less relationships. But stopping to consider what these gut-grabbing emotions signal to us can bring us to a deeper ability to experience our humanness. It's our nature to avoid pain: touching a hot stove ONCE is enough for most of us, thank you. But perhaps not fleeing in the opposite direction every time we feel pain, shame, co-dependence or rage may be our best medicine. Accepting, even daring to embrace, the darkness within us brings us wisdom of a kind we can uncover in no other way. Our darkness will never fade. Better we learn, grow and deepen from it than continue to curse it. By acknowledging our shadows, we stretch ourselves to our true expanse -- an amazing greatness graced by the poles of emotion and experience, and the knowledge of ALL that it means to be human.

Shelving the "Shoulds"

Part of therapy is setting goals, helping clients clarify where they are heading and how to get there. So often, I hear clients recite a litany of behaviors, choices, attitudes and feelings they think they, or others, "should" be demonstrating or following. "I should work out more." "My spouse should appreciate me." "My boss should give me a raise." "I should be more patient with my kids." "I should be kinder, wiser, more flexible, less judgemental, more responsible, less fearful....." The lists of ways folks think they "should" be different can appear endless. But I remind clients that I have never met a "should" that's been helpful.

LIMITING OUR SELF-JUDGEMENT 
By design, "should" brings with it guilt and obligation, a reminder of the ways we have failed or fallen short. "Should" does not include the element of choice, of free will. Now, I ask clients, try replacing the word "should" with "could". The energy of these statements, and our feelings about them and ourselves, transforms dramatically. "I COULD work out more" embraces the possibility of a course of action -- it doesn't castigate me for not choosing that action. "My spouse could appreciate me" allows for the hope that gratitude for our part in the relationship can develop, rather than disparaging our spouse for behaviors he or she is NOT doing. The truth is, there are no universal "shoulds," no absolute rules about what an individual MUST do, feel or choose in order to be happy, healthy or at peace. When we put aside the judging, limiting tone of "should", we allow room for empowered choice and owned responsibility. Try it. You COULD find yourself feeling freer as a result.