Thursday, February 25, 2010

You are Never Too Old to Play

In my art therapy with children class we have been playing with toys to understand the importance of play therapy and imagination. I was the kid in my group this week and it brought a flood of memories to my mind. I even chose toys that reminded me of my horses and rubber animals that filled my barn.
I have a foggy memory of playing with those toys and with my Dad. It is more a remembrance of doing it. I remember him laying on the cold, hard rocks on the lake house, the barn he made for my toys in front of us. I have no idea what we played, what world I created there with him, but I remeber the feeling of acceptance. I know that we played Sheera in the kitchen. Running around the island with my wooden sword (something else that he made for me). I do remember having powers then, powers to make sure I always won. I could look like a rock, casue the kitchen was no longer a kitchen. I could make him go slower than me, whatever gave me an edge. I was always Sheera, and Dad always lost.
I created whole new worlds with my cousin Anna. We made trails in the woods above my grandmother's. And those trails would change, one day being the inner workings of a house, the grand halls to a hotel, the tight corridors of a pirate ship. We would talk to people who weren't there, made-up our perfect boyfriends, it was so natural for us. I don't remember when it stopped, when we out grew this play, but I feel that it lasted longer with her than others. I remember too much about it, too many details for it to have ended too soon in childhood.
I remember feeling playing alone in those woods, feelings of adventure that I still feel when I walk in the woods. When I was alone the play always had magic. Faries hiding in trees, animals that could talk to me, I was one with the forest spirits. I couldn't use magic with Anna, it was something that was taboo for her religion, but when I was in those woods alone, the whole world opened for me. There was always something threatening the balance of my woods, something that I had to stop with the use my powers, my horse and my wolf. I was normally telekeintic and could commune with nature. Calling up a wind if I needed it, or a bear to fight. But I always got the balance back.
Magical creatures were something that I could play with my other cousin Meghan. I remember being mermaids and dolphins in her pool in Florida. I can still feel the seaweed when we dove under the pool water, the fish that would swim beside us in our minds. And we were right there with each other, we never missed the beat of the other. I remeber her always wanting to be a cat. My Aunt Suzy loves to remind us of using toliet paper as a prop. But looking back on those memories, it was perfectly logical. It gave us powers to be animals, it was just a part of our imaginations.
In class I felt the same feeling of adventure, just not the speech that came with as a child. I could see the worlds that I created in my play with various rubber animals. I could see the sand blowing in Egypt, the water crashing as my ship sliced through it to the next adventure. I was a little shocked at how easily it all come back. I spent a good ten minutes just going through all the toys from my tub. Sorting them, touching each one, looking at it, sorting piles based on themes, standing them all up. Then each little pile became either its' own world or island. I went to Egypt, a giant insect world, a native American tribe, and traveled back in time to King Arthur's court. (Because my ship, which was made from the original tub, was magical and could go anywhere. And it is not important how I got there, just that I got there).
There were some themes in my play that related to my life. My main character, Jack, was an Indiana Jones type, wanting to learn all he could about other cultures. Erin, my play therapist, asked a lot about what Jack was feeling, was he scared of the Egyptian tomb? NO! Well, yes but he thinks that knowledge is more important. And he knows how to handle himself. Jack and his crew got thrown back in time by a horrible storm Erin asked if Jack was worried about getting home. Nope, he goes with the flow, believes that he will get back when he gets back. He lives in the present.
Everything that Jack felt, I felt. The need for knowledge, adventure and having to make the best of everything. It amazed me that while we were talking after how much of my play was mirrored in my life, or in my dreams. At first I had tried to make a bad guy, but I decided I wanted to go exploring instead. I avoided any real conflict, and any that arouse I just went with it. Trying to find the silver lining and learn all that I could in whatever world I was in. Which I feel I do it real life. I might hate being here in PA, but it is what I need to get to goals. I am here, so I might as well try and get something from it.
Playing was fun. It was nice to act something out like that, like I was a child again. I would be interested to see what would happen if I let myself play with my toys of youth alone. Let myself speak and see what world appeared. I might try that the next time I am home and record it to see if I work through anything in my play. Playing as a 24 year-old is strictly for educational purposes, not because now I miss my horses and animals from my youth..... or maybe it is.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Living in the Middle

I really wish that I had the command of words to explain what I expereinced this Saturday. During my Seton Hill Art Therapy Alumni conference I went to a lecture on the transgender community. Most of the intro knowledge I knew, the differences between gender identity, gender expression, and sexual orientation. I know all that stuff, it was seeing the art of some of the members of this community that I felt my heart break.
I saw artwork that completely showed the pain of living in the a land of the "in-between". Neither one or the other. Most of the art was wanting one other person to accept them and see the man beneath the woman or vice-versa. The pain was tangible in the room as we witnessed the work in front of us.
Coming out to your partents about your gender attarction is one thing, telling the world that you feel that you are the WRONG gender is completely differnt. Looking at their art I felt I was reading post secrets. They were detailed, and highly relatable. I have wanted to work with addiction since I chose this profession, but now, I wonder if that is where I should go?
What amazed the me the most about the information in the lecture was the lack of support for this community. When a group of therapists were interviewed about their dealing with a transgender client, all them said they would refer the client to someone else. I don't understand how there cannot be any training to deal with population. I try not to lock myself into a spefefic population right now, but I will have to at some point. Until then, until the time comes to pick, I am going to keep learning, going with the flow of education and research.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Time to Try and Heal

I was going through some boxes in my office, and I found it. I found the last journal that Aaron was actively a part. It was the one that detailed the break-up, the real pain I felt afterwards. But it was inconsistent, not like I was when I was in high school. I need to write more. I find it a litle unsettleing that I wrote endlessly about my pain with Jeremy, and the pain of Aaron not liking me in the beginning, and yet, when I was going through REAL heartache, not much. But is was nice to read that I had at least verbally written how much I missed him. At least of first. For about four entires, then I just stop wrting about him. I am thinking that is when I pushed away the pain, focused on other things like college. For a long time there I was convinced I was fine.

About a year and half after we broke up, I wrote an entry about how I was over him, that going through his box, I felt nothing. And that was the key word, I felt nothing. I had detached from the emotion of Aaron. And another year later it all came back in renewed strength. But reading those words, reading my raw pain and knowing what I feel now, the pain that resurfaced is not as crippling as it was then. "I can't lose him as a friend. That will kill me. He has been too much in my life to lose. I still need him." Then I was hurt over losing my boyfriend, now, I hurt over losing my friend. One I can never fix, the other I can only hope.

I just have to let and stop waiting. I have done all I can.