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Culturally Fit Social Workers – we need more of you!

The journey to cultural fitness is life long....

The journey to cultural fitness is life long….

The last organisation I worked for adopted the practice of “cultural fitness” rather than cultural awareness.  It’s a great metaphor.  Just like going to the gym every day to keep up your fitness, I believe as social workers we also have to keep educating ourselves, challenging our White privilege and emersing ourselves in the other’s world view, to stay fit.  It is not something you do once, like cultural awareness training!
I am a huge advocate for supporting new graduates to make cultural fitness a life long goal in their social work practice. Sometimes, the best way to start is dive in the deep end, emerse yourself in the culture and let the Elders teach you. Whenever I have the opportunity, I offer to supervise 4th year social work students so that they can safely navigate the terrain to walk, teach and learn in ‘two worlds’.  My hope is that they will come to love working in the NT, despite its complexities and challenges.  I believe the high rate of staff turnover here is damaging to both the social work profession and our Indigenous brothers and sisters who are trying to get their lives on track and deal with complex trauma. We have to find ways of working that are respectful of Aboriginal culture, traditions and healing practices which may mean rethinking some of what you were taught at university!

It gives me great pleasure to share with you a story written by the last student I supervised, giving some insight (and a few laughs too!) into what it is like to dive in and start this journey.  I hope that it inspires other social work graduates to consider specialising in this area of practice.

My journey in becoming a Social Worker in the Northern Territory by Lissy Suthers

Firstly I would like to begin by acknowledging and thanking the women and children of the Tiwi Island communities for all their gifts and wisdom they have bestowed upon me. I would like to acknowledge the Aboriginal Traditional Owners of the lands throughout the Northern Territory on whose country I have the privilege to live and work. I pay my respects to their elders, both past and present.

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Nervous, unsure and a little naïve, and scared would best summarise my state of mind when it had been confirmed I would be participating in my final practicum for Social Work on the Tiwi Islands, Northern Territory.  I knew that I wanted to challenge myself in many aspects of the broad and complex work that we do as Social Workers. A challenge is definitely what I got.

Stepping out of your comfort zone and being the minority within a community is a strange and somewhat scary experience. Working in a community and an environment that is hot and unfamiliar is also a strange and uncomfortable experience.  There were many challenges to be faced with choosing to do a final practicum on the Tiwi Islands 1000’s kilometres from home.

My first few weeks were challenging, not only are you balancing your practicum duties and attempting to develop connections and a social life, you also have to overcome some mental hurdles, ‘Did I make the right choice?’ ‘Am I mentally, intellectually and physically capable of this?’ ‘I miss my home.’  But with time, confidence grows and you begin to discover things about yourself you may have thought you were not capable of.  Things like; building lasting relationships with the women and elders of the Tiwi Island communities, organising two entire (permission, travel to and from, therapeutic activities for camp) bush camps that last for 3 days – no electricity and no water, facilitating therapeutic activities whilst on camp and helping in the development of a resource designed and produced by my student supervisor and mentor Lucy.

There were also minor challenges and setbacks like; the food not arriving on time for camp; not being able to shower for 3 to 4 days; someone taking your thongs on camp and not returning them, therefore you must fly home to Darwin barefoot; backing a Troopy onto a small barge and then having to drive off the barge without snagging and bogging yourself in the sand; running around communities chasing families who are attending camp; nearly witnessing a group of children being eaten by a 5 metre crocodile.  You know… those minor kinds of challenges where if you don’t laugh, you cry, and you tell yourself that ‘it builds character’ to cope and reframe your situation.

Despite the challenges, the rewards and learning I took away from this experience are far greater than the stress and tears.  Through the patience, wisdoms and support from my student supervisor and mentor Lucy, and the support of Mark and the team at UQ, I was able to overcome my insecurities and be open to my experience.  Through reflection of practice and a safe space to make mistakes, I was able to develop my skills in; co-ordinating and facilitating large groups; become effective in working with cultural difference; continued to build upon knowledge of aboriginal cultural, language and traditions; I was able to reflect on how my ethics and values influence my practice; I became more effective in how I engage with our Aboriginal people; and had the opportunity to develop more experience and understanding in working with families who are at risk.

I realise everyone’s experience will be different, but I found for me, to take that leap and plunge straight into the deep end of unknown, is something I will never regret.  I would not be in my current employment if it weren’t for my choice to go remote for practicum. I am now a qualified Social Worker in a children’s counselling role for Relationships Australia.

If I had one piece of advice to give someone thinking of taking on such a change and/or challenge, it would be “Be brave, be focussed, be open, be comfortable with being uncomfortable and find humour when you can.”

I look forward to my future and know that from my experiences I will continue to learn, reflect and develop my skills.  My journey still continues and may it never end, as I navigate my way through the many paths of Social Work.

Lissy Lissy Suthers is a Children’s Counsellor with Relationships Australia NT.

 

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Recipes Of Life: How cooking is transforming my relationships, community and work

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Cooking in the Mulch Pit Community Garden.

Many years ago I started an initiative which I called the Community Chef. The idea was to share recipes using local food and a dozen of us would gather in someone’s house to prepare and cook these together. I remember the smell of garlic and ginger being pushed around the wok, the laughter of men gathered round the stove, the chatter of women munching on carrots and homemade spinach dips, and handwritten recipes handed down in families or along cultural storylines. There was something about this experience that was pretty darn special. Even though our community cooking nights have moved to an outdoor kitchen at my local community garden, this method of sharing knowledge and skills in such an earthy, organic way has huge therapeutic potential for each one of us. It does not assume that only one person is the expert but that we can all be teachers and learners.

It was pretty ironic that I would meet Natalie Rudland-Wood at around the same time as starting the Community Chef.  Natalie had developed the Recipes of Life program, adapted from similar narrative folk cultural methodologies like the Tree of Life.  Natalie was using Recipes to engage children and young people affected by homelessness in conversations about their lives using the metaphor of food.  Cooking and counselling was proving to be an effective mix.  In documenting and sharing their Recipes for overcoming hard times, the kids were experts in their own lives and becoming supportive mentors for their peers!

Having recently won a small grant, I’m currently preparing a program to trial Recipes of Life with refugees and asylum seekers living in Darwin.  It is not my intention to describe how the program works, but instead give you “a taster” by sharing my own recently crafted Recipe of Life.   Hopefully, you will see the two-fold potential therapeutic benefits, for the person writing their recipe and contributing it to the life of another, and the person receiving it (who might also be experiencing hard times).

LUCY’S RECIPE FOR LIVING WITH CHRONIC BACK PAIN

Ingredients

Mental strength         one bucket

Support                        a cup overflowing

Mindfulness                1 shovel full

Stamina                        a heap

Willpower                    as much as you can muster

Good diet                     1 teaspoon per day

Exercise                        between 1 teaspoon and 1 cup per week

Acceptance                   ideally 1 pinch per day

Patience                        1 handful per day

Understanding             doesn’t need to be added, just happens

Sourcing

The origins of Mental Strength are home grown after watching my mum who has had to put up with a lot over the years.  I remember having it after leaving home and it grows stronger every year.

Support is ‘on loan’ from my generous husband and kind friends.  It is always available but not always easy to accept.

The ideas and principles of Mindfulness have been imported over the years from friends, books, people I don’t know on the internet and Buddhist Monk, Gen Kelsang Dornying.

Stamina and Willpower is cultured from home as a result of leaving my birthplace and family in my early twenties and learning to rely on myself.

Good Diet and exercise are a mix of home grown skills of listening to my body mixed with advice from trusted naturopaths and chiropractors.  This sometimes gets confusing as the two sources can be conflictual.  But in the end, I know best, over any expert advice.

Acceptance is reluctantly borrowed from God who makes it easier to understand the need for this Recipe.

Patience is a gift from gentle role-models like my mum and Nelson Mandela.

Understanding is also a gift that presents itself from the mixing of all the other ingredients.

Method

Blend together mental strength and support using a wheelbarrow and shovel.  Pack down tight into the bottom of the wheelbarrow so there are no gaps.  You can’t afford to let any contaminants spoil this mix.

In a bowl, whisk together mindfulness, stamina and willpower.  Set it aside to ferment.  This will take a minimum of six months. Every day add good diet to the bowl.  Once a week add in exercise, not too much, just the right balance (depending on how you feel).   If it hurts, back off and just add the minimum required.  Even though you don’t like it, you must add small amounts of Acceptance especially on bad days.  For best results, add a pinch every day along with Patience.  The fermenting process is complete when Understanding has developed.   You are now ready to add this mix to the wheelbarrow.

Spread on top and leave out in the pure natural rays of the sun to cook. It will rise in the heat.

This recipe will take at least six months to ferment and develop its subtle flavour because you have to adjust ingredients as you go, depending on the level of pain on a given day.   Full maturity may take as long as two years.  

Mental Strength is the backbone of the recipe.  Without it, the recipe is doomed.

NB: My special tip is on really bad days to consume double the dose. For example, for my peace of mind, I had to advocate strongly to get an MRI against doctor’s advice which was “not clinically indicated”.  This takes a double dose of Mental Strength.

Serving Suggestion

Sometimes you will have to eat this in bed.

But the ideal way to serve it is at the end of the day, preferably in front of the sunset on the beach, surrounded by loved ones. I would have my immediate family, mum and close friends there, swaying in cosy hammocks with not a care in the world. The spread would be laid out on a huge picnic blanket with simple pure white crockery, the best silverware I could afford and fancy etched glasses with pink champagne.  The picnic basket would never run out of food.  We could eat as much as we wanted. There would be a high tide, lapping at our feet and a gentle breeze with the sweet smell of frangipani’s tickling my nose. The sound of curlews would ring out gently and intercept the laughter and joy of friendship.  I would speak with gratitude in honour of my soul mate and husband for sticking by me “in sickness and in health” for 21 years and the support of all those since that have drifted through my life, sharing their knowledge, encouragement and love.  A fairy would magically come and do all the washing up, leaving everything sparkly clean back in the picnic basket.

Has this got you thinking about how to use these ideas in your work?

Or perhaps how your personal Recipe could actually make a difference to the life of someone else?

Read more about Recipes of Life by downloading Natalie’s article in the International Journal of Narrative Therapy and Community Work or watch a video about her methodology.  If you’d like to write your own Recipe, contact us.

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“Let’s Do Dadirri” – Using your Inner Wisdom on this rocky Journey called Life

IMG_2122How often do you stop and sit in quiet still awareness, open to listening to what your inner voice is saying to you?  For some, this might be too confronting, perhaps afraid of what they might hear.  However for the majority, it seems our busy world distracts us from this important human task.  Those who practice regular meditation will have some idea of what it is like to sit in quiet still awareness, and be open to receiving new insight into what the body and mind needs at any particular point in time.  For those with no time to do nothing – you could be missing out on so much more that life has to offer!

Before I moved to the Northern Territory, I had been told by two different employers that I should “stop and smell the roses occasionally”.  This is difficult to hear by one who is passionately driven in their work.   Then I came across the words of Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann, an Aboriginal Elder from Nauiyu (Daly River) who talks about Dadirri like it is the essence of human life.

“Dadirri is inner, deep listening and quiet, still awareness. Dadirri recognises the deep spring that is inside us. We call on it and it calls to us. This is the gift that Australia is thirsting for. It is something like what you call ‘contemplation’.

When I experience dadirri, I am made whole again. I can sit on the riverbank or walk through the trees; even if someone close to me has passed away, I can find my peace in this silent awareness. There is no need of words. A big part of dadirri is listening.”

“In our Aboriginal way, we learnt to listen from our earliest days. We could not live good and useful lives unless we listened. This was the normal way for us to learn – not by asking questions. We learnt by watching and listening, waiting and then acting.”

These words really struck me.  And I have carried them with me from the moment I stepped onto Aboriginal land to work with the Tiwi people.  For the first four months, I hardly spoke a word. I sat around with women Elders drinking cups of tea and listened as they generously poured out their stories – about them, about their community, about their people, about their hopes and dreams, and about what they didn’t want whitefellas doing to them anymore.  I learnt a lot by keeping my mouth shut.

Since injuring my back in January this year, I have had a lot more hours lying around in quiet still awareness, listening to what my body needs.  This has tended to be more reliable than the advice from doctors, physios, chiros and even well intentioned friends.

Dadirri doesn’t have to take a long time out of your day or be some mindblowing, life course altering transformation.  For instance, today I stopped to contemplate an out-of-the-blue email from an interstate colleague I’ve never met face-to-face, suggesting I read a book called “Leadership Beyond Good Intentions”.  She courageously suggested that “this book might help you look after yourself…as you continue your social leadership journey.”  I didn’t even realise I was on a social leadership journey!  I wondered whether others would have laughed off this observation, made a polite response and hit Delete.  But her insight got me contemplating.  What can she see that I can’t?  Where am I being lead?  Well, there was only one way to find out.  I ordered the book.

Anyway, it was all this contemplation that led me to write this blog…..

What are the signposts in your life that you haven’t noticed because you’ve been too busy?
What do the sights, smells and sounds around you have you feeling and thinking?
What is that piece of music or the bird that pooped on your head, really saying!
Stop and take notice.  Chances are your thoughts will be a reflection of what is important to you, who you really are and what you need.   It’s your inner wisdom talking.

“[Dadirri] is in everyone. It is not just an Aboriginal thing.”—Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann

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When All Else Fails, Push Play : The Healing Power of Music

Xavier Rudd

Xavier Rudd follows the sun to the water.

Have you ever been so moved by a song that you look back and think that was a turning point in your life?

I was never really one to be touched by music in a really emotional way, until I reached my thirties. I was a third year university student and sitting in on the first lecture of Working With Indigenous Communities with Tony Kelly, a passionate man who had worked in the NT for 30 years. The only reason I’d taken his elective was out of curiosity – I’d heard that he cried in class. He pushed play on the cassette player (remember those?) and out came Paul Kelly’s From Little Things Big Things Grow. The tears started to form at the corner of my eyes and what followed was five months of no-holds-barred, in-ya-face black history (what I’d never learnt at school) and an invitation to take a long hard look at myself and my whiteness. Yep, it was a turning point. From Little Things… was a tiny seed planted and watered, which led me back to the NT.

Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah is a beautiful song, but it wasn’t until I watched the journey of the Choir of Hard Knocks culminating in their performance at the Sydney Opera House, that it gave me goosebumps. What Jonathan Welch and the homeless people of Sydney achieved together was nothing less than inspiring. Did you know that Leonard Cohen’s career had reached a low point when he wrote Hallelujah in 1984 and his record company didn’t bat an eyelid at it? Every time I hear it now, the goosebumps return.

I have a colleague, who I worked with just long enough a few years ago to make a spiritual connection through shared values and views about the world. We go months without seeing or talking to each other as we both lead busy and very different lives. However, earlier this year, when I was having a particularly tough time and felt like I had come to a crossroad, I got a call from her out of the blue. All she said to me was, listen to Rudd’s song – Follow Your Heart. When I opened the you-tube clip and and was invited to check “which way is the wind blowing”, tears welled up. Not so much because it became obvious to me what I should do. But because this distant friend, like a guardian angel or something, had delivered this message to me. Another turning point.

And this brings me to my last favourite song – another off Xavier Rudd’s album – Spirit Bird. See if you can get through this one without shedding a tear! Like a fighting warrior, these words provide the inspiration for me to keep going and never give up. I know I’m heading in the right direction.

I can count the number of songs that move me to tears or lift me up out of a low point, on one hand. But that’s what makes them all the more special.

What about you? In hard times, what are the songs that bring you healing? Share them. It could make all the difference to the life of another.

“Music is the art of the prophets, the only art that can calm the agitations of the soul.”   Martin Luther (1483-1546)

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Metaphorical Drawing as a Tool to Build Relationships of Attachment between Foster and Kinship Carers and Children in their Care.

10626585_759069220821973_6528970359671927082_nThe Northern Territory is over-represented when it comes to Aboriginal children in out-of-home care.  And despite the Aboriginal Placement Principle being adopted, many Aboriginal children still find themselves placed with non-Aboriginal foster carers because they continue to be removed from their families and there are not enough Aboriginal carers.  Not surprisingly, after all the trauma these little tikes have been through, it can be a battle for the Department and the Carers to make the placement work.  Often these children haven’t been able to build a trusted relationship of attachment to their primary carer because of traumatic events in the family, let alone the strange adult they now live with.

Last week I was invited to participate in the Foster & Kinship Care Expo hosted by Foster Carers Association of the NT.  I decided to engage the children in a fun drawing activity which foster and kinship carers could later take home and use to explore their relationship together.  It goes something like this.

10511123_759069540821941_8587260440108007074_nChildren are asked to think about if they were an animal, what kind would they be? If they get stuck, I discuss with them the different characteristics of animals. Some are shy and quiet, others are happy and excited, while some are wild and angry. You get the picture! They are invited to then draw the animal that most closely resembles them, using their choice of drawing materials. I had crayons, pastels and textas available. I encourage them to fill in the whole page, drawing the habitat that the animal finds itself in on a daily basis. At the expo, some children chose to do several animals describing the different parts of themselves. Others, chose to include family members or friends represented by different animals in their picture.

The kids had lots of fun, but the real work happens later. Foster carers were invited to use my Take Home Sheet which offered ways of interviewing the child about their picture. You can learn a lot about what is going on for your child by talking to them through the animal eyes, so to speak.   It is much easier for Aboriginal children to speak in third person through telling a story, than talking directly about their own experience and feelings.

At home, foster carers are also invited to draw an animal picture. This can be used to explore the relationships between the two animals, how well they get on, and what needs to happen for the animals to trust each other. Having this one-on-one time with the child, is a purposeful and meaningful way for the child to build a connection, using the safety and playfulness of their imagination. These kids deserve our full attention so avoid any chance of distractions like turning off your mobile.

If you’d like to read more about the questions to use when talking to children, download my Take Home Sheet here Build Relationships and Connection for Foster Carers and their children.

In my counselling work, I’ve written fictional stories with children about different animals and other characters, that is based on their own experiences. It’s a beautiful way to be able to help them communicate what they haven’t been able to express before. And help them make sense of what happened along the journey!

Never underestimate the power of play as a tool to share difficult experiences, communicate feelings and strengthen relationships!10599157_759069590821936_5640702642905705167_n

 

An Aboriginal Perspective of Grieving and Healing from Loss

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Pukumani ceremony burial poles of the Tiwi people.

One of the saddest things about working in remote communities of Northern Australia is the constant and ongoing presence of grief as families mourn the loss of loved ones. To have four funerals a month seems the norm. If this occurred in a small white community of 1,500 people, this would be considered outrageous! But in Aboriginal communities, it is the reality of their lives.
If you are Aboriginal, you can expect to die 10 to 12 years earlier than non-Aboriginal people. But the gap widens to 14 years if you are Aboriginal, male and live in the Northern Territory. This is worse than many third world countries!
Topping the biggest killers list are heart disease, cancers and injuries. The NT can also lay claim to the highest suicide rate in Australia – 20 deaths per 100,000 – because one third of its population is comprised of Aboriginal people.   The majority of these suicides involve Aboriginal children and young men.
So you’re starting to get the picture. Aboriginal people are grieving the loss of loved ones every day! Healing is an ongoing process where no end point is ever reached.

As I interviewed Shane Kerinauia this week, his home community of Pirlangimpi were awaiting the outcome of a young man missing for six days. It now appears he was taken by a crocodile. I can’t imagine how a small community of 400 deals with this!  But they will. They will cry together. They will seek comfort in each other. And they will continue on, because that is just what they do.  For Shane, our guest blogger, he often thinks about the 3 really close school mates he lost at a young age and more recently, a cousin in a car accident. One thing that helps ease the pain is thinking about good memories.
“I keep thinking about the old school days. We used to share stories and talk about playing sports. I used to go around to his place, to his brothers and he used to come over to my place.   We used to share things. We used to talk about his AFL footy star. We used to bag each other out or make a bet. If your team wins, I buy you a drink. I feel like he’s still alive again. I will still have the good memories for the rest of my life.”

Sometimes it’s difficult to juggle the cultural obligations that come with attending ceremonies, with personal responsibilities such as holding down a job.
“I missed his funeral because I had to work. It’s hard. I haven’t seen his family yet. It’s the feelings that will come. I feel shame, not confronting them. I want to leave that shame to rest. Not to think about it too much. I am comfortable with taking the time I need. You can go and visit the family later and it’s okay.”

Shane talks about the good ways of coping with difficult feelings.
“Last month or too, I’ve been down a lot. I’ve got other mates I can go and yarn to. My mate is feeling down as well. We have a conversation, reminiscing together about the school days. [We’re] mates sharing the tears together. Hugs and crying help too. I talk to my partner about the feelings in my head and she gives me a hug. I’ve been talking to my mum too. I share my feelings with lots of different people. It’s not Tiwi way, to drink, get drunk and then cry. I don’t believe in that.”

Shane says an important part of the healing process for Tiwi people is about giving the person a proper ceremony.
“I believe in getting together and grieve proper way. Before they bury the person, family get together and do a healing. Singing, sharing things to each other, just having a laugh, sharing food together, BBQ, good memories.   We listen to the Elders. They tell us you gotta be strong. Don’t let that memory affect you….. When a person dies, other people that have died come along, just to let us know they’re here with us, to take the person away with them. It’s a comforting thing. We sit down quiet.   Next day we have smoking ceremony. It’s very important for us to have this ceremony, to smoke the spirit away. If we don’t smoke the house, the spirit is still living there.“

Tiwi people have a special spiritual connection to those that have gone before them.
“Sometimes when we feel the energy of a person, it’s a comforting thing. Once when I was at the pool, I could feel [my partners dad] there, telling me to go back to work. It was nice to hear. Everytime I am there, I can hear him. Sometimes I get goosebumps. It puts a smile on [my partners] face. It’s like he’s watching over me. I feel comfortable with it. Safe. He gives me a message.”

And Shane’s final words about healing from loss?
“Be strong. Be yourself. I am strong for my family. My relatives are the most important thing in my life. I just want to do things I want to do. Fishing and hunting and camping. Go and visit families and friends. If my daughter even has to go through what I’ve been through, I’ll be able to support her.”

The strong spirit and resilience of Aboriginal people’s lives in coping with loss shines through in Shane’s story and so many people like him. I thank him for his willingness to share his story.

ShaneAt the time of writing, Shane Kerinaiua was employed by CatholicCare NT with The Strong Men’s Program. He won the Aust-Swim Water Safety National Award in 2011. He holds the record for the most goals kicked in a year in the Tiwi Football League.

Body Drawing: An art therapy approach to healing from chronic pain.

Healing from Chronic Pain or Injury: My 3 Rules for playing the Mind Game

Body Drawing: An art therapy approach to healing from chronic pain.

Body Drawing: An art therapy approach to healing from chronic pain.

This week I sliced my finger. I was cleaning our ceiling fan blades, something I’d been trying to do for months. In the first instance, I fell into a pit of anger and frustration because I couldn’t finish the job. Ruminating, I stared at the ceiling, clasping a bunch of tissues which filled up with blood over my painful little pinkie. To the distracting but somewhat comforting beat of my throbbing pulse, I eventually pulled myself off the sulky road I was heading down, and contemplated how I might now constructively fill in the rest of my day.   I decided to do something I enjoyed – some drawing or painting or both. Half an hour later, I consulted the first aid book locked away in my brain and decided a dose of Betadine and a couple of strong bandaids was all that was required.

Ironically, this is the same process I went through when I popped a disc sweeping up the floor in January. However this injury was much more serious and I haven’t yet fully recovered. I lead an active lifestyle and see the glass half full most of the time, but this pushed me to my absolute limits. The mental anguish of being bed bound is much worse than physical pain and I could have easily slipped into depression, if anger and frustration had gotten hold.  I began thinking about the things I consciously do to give myself the best chance of healing without letting the world crumble down around me. Here are my 3 tips for healing from chronic pain, keeping your spirit intact!

  1. Listen to what your body is telling you to do.

The voices of ‘experts’ in treatment have valuable things to offer but not the only answer. My doctor, physio and chiropractor all had different opinions about my back injury and how it should be treated. The conflicting advice I received was confusing and my back seemed to get worse. Eventually, I refused to do some of the exercises because it didn’t feel right. I had to force my doctor to refer me for an “unnecessary” MRI which revealed a type of degenerative disc disease that he knew nothing about it. I ended up doing my own research to find a path of recovery for myself. In desperation for pain relief, I found an acupuncturist/physio who confirmed what I suspected all along. Don’t do any exercise that causes pain! He cut me back to one exercise and that was the beginning of my recovery, five months after my initial injury.   I know if I ever do this kind of injury again, I have a first aid plan, based pretty much on “Treat Your Own Back”. I also know I have a really strong gut instinct which steers me in the right direction.

  1. Put your mind on a leash.

This is the hardest thing to do when you are in constant pain. Give it some slack and your mind will take off, leaving you feeling powerless. Worry and self doubt tried to convince me that I might never be healthy and strong again. I was also plagued with guilt for lying around and not contributing to the functioning of our family household. A turning point for me came when I created a Body Drawing. On one of my worst days, I lay down and quietly meditated on how my body felt for a few minutes, noticing the pain, tension, and other sensations. Then I took a piece of paper and drew what I had noticed.  Looking objectively at what I had drawn, I knew I had to take positive action to not let my mind dominate, as it was contributing to avoidable tension in my body and inhibiting recovery. The Body Drawing is a good exercise to repeat several times over the course of recovery, so that you can appreciate the positive steps forward you are taking and that change however slight, is happening.

  1. Find creative ways to keep doing things you enjoy.

One of the most difficult things with chronic pain is not being able to do things you love. For three months, I wasn’t able to sit. I either had to lie on my back or stand. And standing for long periods of time wasn’t good either. I became teary and upset at not being able to do the things I normally enjoy like gardening and bike riding (I had just bought a new mountain bike).

Now when I look back, I am grateful for the down time I was forced to take. I taught myself how to set up a business and website and even went to some free business seminars, standing on my feet throughout the whole training.   I wrote my first blog flat out on my back because my thoughtful hubby bought me a bed desk.

It’s important to stay connected to the things you are passionate about, within your limitations. I couldn’t work in the community garden, but I still went along and chatted to the gardeners doing all the hard yakka. I took up new pursuits like Universal Healing Meditation and Playback Theatre which have added value to my healing process. Think creatively and you can find a way, perhaps with a little help from some painkillers now and again!

The Mind Game of healing from chronic pain or injury is a constant challenge. Just keep strong hold of that leash, and breathe.

Darwin Playback Theatre

My Introduction to the Healing Power of Playback Theatre

In February, I was fortunate to hear about some Playback Workshops designed to introduce new and old improvisational actors to the art of PlayBack Theatre. My motivation for attending was personal. I wanted a creative outlet for the rollercoaster of emotions I was carrying from my work.  It was all about me and my needs. If there was some way of expressing the tension that had built up over the past 5 years from listening to other people’s stories of trauma and abuse, in a fun and releasing kind of way, then this was enough. I didn’t really know what I was in for. I didn’t realise I would be the vehicle through which I would hear more potentially traumatic stories and have to literally jump into the storytellers shoes in a physical way. I didn’t realise how much courage I would need to muster to expose the introspective parts of my vulnerable self, while the self critic tried to talk me out of it. That is the journey I am now on.

Jonathan Fox introduced Playback Theatre in 1972 as a vehicle for ordinary people to act out the stories of their community. Although not intentionally a therapy, drama therapists and psychodramatists recognised Playback’s potential as a therapeutic approach. “It is theatre with the power and intention to heal and transform individuals and social groups” (Salas 2009). It has been used with trauma survivors, couples and families, adolescents, people in recovery from addictions or mental illness and other groups.

Darwin Playback Theatre

Darwin Playback Theatre

So how does it work? Well, the stage is set with two chairs to one side for the Conductor and Teller (a volunteer from the audience who is invited to share a story). In the middle of the stage are four boxes (seating and potential props) for four Actors. To the other side, a musician is accompanied by a wide variety of instruments to add musical content to the story. And upstage is a rack of cloth of various colours, for use as costumes or props. The Conductor invites a volunteer from the audience to tell a story. This Teller chooses an Actor to play themselves and for any other key figures in the story. The Actors listen as the Conductor interviews the Teller about the details of the story and most importantly, what emotions were present at the time of the event. The conductor invites the Teller and audience to “Let’s Watch” as the Actors and Musician play back the story as creatively and accurately as they can. The Actors finish their final scene by pausing and looking back at the Teller, anticipating their feedback. If the Teller is troubled by the way their story ends, there is an opportunity for Transformation, as the Conductor invites the Teller to imagine a new outcome and the Actors play back this preferred ending.

The potential healing effects for Tellers may seem obvious but when played out in front of a group of strangers in public, take on a life all of their own. There is the personal sense of affirmation and validation as they tell, hear and watch stories that are significant for them; the feeling of being fully heard and understood by the Actors and through the clapping of the audience; a sense of mastery over an experience that has been hanging around in the background for some time; new insight gained into an issue that has been presented back in a new and creative way; and the cathartic experience of joining in laughter or tears with the audience.

In the short time I have been practising the skills and art of Playback, I have been struck by the potential healing effects for Actors too. In my paid work as a counsellor, my attentive, listening ear was the only tool I could use to acknowledge and validate a story of trauma. With Playback, I can use my whole body, mind and voice in acknowledgement of the courage shown for sharing a personal story amidst strangers. It feels like presenting their story as a gift bound in a bright coloured ribbon, which is unwrapped with gentle curiosity, utter delight or immense relief and profound insight.

To date, I have only witnessed this amongst the cosy and comfortable confines of my PlayBack colleagues, where we share our inner-most personal stories with each other. My inner self critic has successfully sobataged any attempt I might make to step onto the public stage.   But that is a story for another time; perhaps the PlayBack stage? I’ve certainly achieved more than I imaged when I set out on this creative adventure six months ago. Any vicarious trauma or pent up frustrations I carry about the state of the world is unleashed amongst the laughter, silliness and security of my fellow Actors each week during Practice. Playback presents an abundance of other healing opportunities for Actors most of which I’m yet to experience, if I can pluck up the courage to go public.

If this article has inspired you to share a story of Tragic Love or other unresolved Earthly Delights, you might like to come along to our company’s next Fringe Festival performance tomorrow night. I won’t be on stage, but you can experience the healing power of Playback for yourself…..because it’s not all about me.

playback flyer _nReferences:  Salas, J. (2009) ‘Playback Theatre: A Frame for Healing’ in Current Approaches in Drama Therapy, 2nd edn., edited by Johnson D. R. & Emunah R., Charles Thomas, Illinois.

Mandala3

Using Art to Heal from the ‘Bystander’ Trauma of Witnessing Worldwide Disasters

2014 is starting to feel like a tragic year. Two heartbreaking airline disasters are making the world an unsafe place to explore. The actions of uncaring, uncompassionate politicians are shining the international human rights spotlight on Australia. And even our neighbourhood is mourning the loss of unexplained suicide.

Even though none of these events have affected me or my family directly, it feels like my safe and secure ‘cone of comfort’ is slowly being smothered as layer by layer another blanket is added on top. I am heavy and weary. I am trying to breathe. Earlier this year, I was particularly sensitive to what was happening around me. I was even told by my doctor to stop watching the news and using Facebook, as it would depress me too much. I did for a few weeks until my sadness about the world subsided. Momentarily.   You cannot avoid it. You cannot tune out entirely. So what do you do with these feelings that you carry?

It feels like some sort of “bystander trauma”. But this term has been used to describe those who have witnessed their loves ones die or seriously injured at the scene of an accident or the like. So it is probably not the right term to use for those of us watching on as the bystanders suffer.  Then again, some of the images we see on media are pretty graphic.  It practically feels like you’re there.

How can the majority of us who may not be directly affected by tragedy or injustice express our sadness for the grief and suffering of others? How can we express our own feelings of losses…like safety and security in the world….or nationwide compassion towards those being oppressed?

Art is used in a therapeutic context to assist those directly affected by grief, loss and trauma to “confront emotions, overcome depression, integrate traumatic experiences and find relief and resolution of grief and loss” (Malchiodi 2007).  But I believe it is also useful to those of us on the sidelines, watching the tragedy unfold before us and watching the bystanders grieve. The process of making art is a sensory experience, not a cognitive one. It gives us a safe place to express feelings we don’t have the words for or an audience available to listen.

So after the tragedy of MH17 this is what I did.
art

If like me, you’re feeling the weight of the blankets smothering you…watching the violence, the despair and the tears of the world, as you try to draw breath, why not give it a go?

  1. Find a piece of paper. It could be a A4 sheet, scrapbook or journal.
  2. Gather something to draw with e.g. textas, pencils, pastels, paint – whatever you prefer or feels right for you.
  3. Gather some collage materials if you have more time. I used the newspaper with the feature story of the tragedy.
  4. Use the materials in front of you to express your thoughts and feelings in whatever form you choose, concrete or abstract. You do not have to use words.
  5. When you are finished, take some deep breaths and acknowledge what it feels like in your body right now.

By the way, don’t think that you haven’t got time for this. Even if you’re sitting at your desk, grab a sticky note and a pen and doodle to your hearts content. Making art is good for you. It might even make you feel like you can come out from underneath the blanket and carry on.

References:  Malchiodi, C. (2007) The Art Therapy Sourcebook, 2nd edn. McGraw Hill Publishing.

Lucy mask

Fun, creative and effective: I UN-MASK the biggest problem facing non-Aboriginal counsellors working with traumatised Aboriginal children!

kids in masksIn 2012 I was lucky enough to attend the Art Therapy Conference in Bali. Here I was exposed to the use of masks in therapy from a Gestalt Art Therapy perspective.   Masks have been worn for performance, entertainment, disguise, concealment and protection. They have been around since ancient times and have been used in ceremony, storytelling and dramatic enactment. Working in pairs, we were invited to explore our inner selves and begin to project this image onto large lifesize headwear, only to have our partner complete the transformative artwork based on their interpretation of our selves. Masked up, these projections of unconscious were transformed into dance, movement and story to music in groups. It was a completely nervewracking but invigorating and freeing experience. I began to think if only I could bring this same sense of freedom and transformation to the children I worked with who lived with the effects of trauma in their lives back home!

This objective of the gestalt approach to using masks in therapy is to ‘liberate’ a person by making contact with the inner (or unconscious) part of themselves. Masks can be used as a diagnostic tool, an object of transformation or as a facilitation of dialogue and communication. As a non-Aboriginal woman working with Aboriginal children who are often difficult to engage in conversation about the trauma in their lives, I was more interested in the latter. One of the biggest problems I encountered in my work with children was engaging them and building their trust. Unlike adults, children don’t necessarily walk into the counselling room with a problem or issue they want to work on. It is usually concerned family members or teachers or police or welfare workers that say there is a problem. So how do you get children to open up when they don’t know why they’re even seeing you? Masks not only presented as a fun and creative way of engaging Aboriginal kids, but it could actually lead them to opening up about their lives too!

Lucy mask

My transformative mask from the Art Therapy Conference, Bali 2012.

Working from a narrative perspective, I could see the potential for masks to provide a safe place to talk about problems without feeling exposed or shamed. The problem could be projected from where the child perceived it was sitting (inside them) onto the mask (outside of them) in a process of externalisation thereby separating the problem from the person. They could literally hide behind and communicate through their mask in a non-direct way by putting it on their face, rather than having to talk directly to me in the first person. I was excited about this idea and came back to Australia seeking to explore ways of using this creative method of bringing healing to the lives of children I was working with.

After a few school terms of using this approach with both boys and girls of all ages, I ended up with a counselling room wall full of masks – sad ones, angry ones, lonely ones, crazy ones, and I even enabled the quietest boy to name his shame for the first time in his life through a mask. New children were always curious about the wall of faces and this was enough of an invitation to want to make one too. Mask making ended up being one of the most powerful way of opening a door to the child’s heart and mind.

To get a sense of how I incorporated narrative ideas into mask making, download my notes here.
Using Masks to Incorporate Narrative and Art Therapy ideas by Lucy.
Perhaps you might take these beginning ideas and develop them further? I would love to hear how it goes. Or if you have other ways you use masks in your healing work with children, please use this space to share what works.

This method would work just as well with Aboriginal women and men who have difficulty opening up about their experiences.