Instead of working on my literature review for my dissertation, I have been reading a book called A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L'Engle. It is absolutely delicious. It is a journal-type book in which she reflects on middle adulthood and the challenges of raising her children and maintaining her career as an author. It has been wonderful to hear a voice that may foreshadow my own in twenty-five years. Hearing an older woman reflect on being fifty-something with joy, maturity, confidence and a deep sense of her own beauty, makes me feel hopeful that life will not always be as chaotic as it has felt recently. There will be times when I am more settled, when I can look back at the rich blessings of life with some of the blanks filled in. Youth is so idealized in our culture, but tonight I told Rob and I am looking forward to being fifty and knowing more and caring less.
Here are some tasty morsels-
about aging:
"So the challenge I face with children is the redemption of adulthood. We must make it evident that maturity is the fulfillment of childhood and adolescence, not a diminishing; that it is an affirmation of life, not a denial; that it is entering fully into our essential selves" (p. 106).
about caring (for me, about becoming a therapist):
"It takes a tremendous maturity, a maturity I don't possess, to strike a balance of immovableness/detachment which makes us creatively useful, able to be compassionate, to be involved in the other person's suffering rath than in our own response to it. False compassion, or sentimentality, always leads us to escape by withdrawing, by becoming cold and impassive and wouding" (p. 118).
I like the line about being creatively useful.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Feminism and theology
I spent the weekend in lovely Portland attending the annual conference of the Western Psychological Association. Allegra and I presented a poster on the theoretical overlap between a feminist approach to psychotherapy and Christian theology. Sound bizarre? It is actually quite possible.
In case you are interested, here is a sample:
Feminist theory:
1. The personal is political. Personal struggles are connected to larger social and political structures. In addressing individual and social transformation, it is imperative that the therapist recognize the political nature of therapy and be committed to being an agent of socio-political change (Enns, 1997). As part of their individual healing process, therapists may encourage clients to pursue community and societal-level changes.
Theological response:
1. Faith is political. To participate in Israel’s covenantal relationship with God is to act politically by challenging the unjust status quo. The four main Hebrew and Greek words for justice are used 1,060 times in the Bible. Laments in both the Old and New Testaments challenge injustice, and oppressive power dynamics (Billman & Migliore, 1999). The Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7) is highlighted as a political and ethical discourse which asserts that Christ’s new kingdom is a practical mandate to struggle against mechanisms of bondage (Friesen, Langan, & Stassen, 1998). Therapeutic goals reflect an ethical principle that mental health involves alleviating injustice. In the Christian tradition, the Church body is an arena for ethical discernment for healthier and more just standards of living (Dueck, 1995).
Feminist theory:
2. Egalitarian therapeutic relationship. Feminist therapists address power differentials within society and the therapeutic relationship. Clients are viewed as competent, co-investigators and are invited to be active participants in defining and producing change. Therapists clearly state their values at the outset of therapy in an effort to demystify the process and prevent destructive power hierarchies (Enns, 1997). Most feminist approaches to therapy emphasize the importance of the therapeutic relationships. It is in solidarity with an equal other that the wounds of injustice are formed into sources of power.
Theological response:
2. Mutuality in relationships is Biblical. The Biblical narrative supports mutual thriving for men and women. Men and women were both created in the image of God, blessed as good creations, and entrusted with the care of other creatures. Although the Hebraic law considered only circumcised men to be legitimate members of the community, the incarnation of Jesus signified a new mutuality, equality, and ethic of gender reconciliation (Van Leeuwen, 1990). In the New Testament, Jesus invited both men and women to follow him. He defended women who wanted to learn and affirmed women’s authority to bear witness to important events. In the new church both men and women were baptized and participants in the Eucharist celebration.
In case you are interested, here is a sample:
Feminist theory:
1. The personal is political. Personal struggles are connected to larger social and political structures. In addressing individual and social transformation, it is imperative that the therapist recognize the political nature of therapy and be committed to being an agent of socio-political change (Enns, 1997). As part of their individual healing process, therapists may encourage clients to pursue community and societal-level changes.
Theological response:
1. Faith is political. To participate in Israel’s covenantal relationship with God is to act politically by challenging the unjust status quo. The four main Hebrew and Greek words for justice are used 1,060 times in the Bible. Laments in both the Old and New Testaments challenge injustice, and oppressive power dynamics (Billman & Migliore, 1999). The Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7) is highlighted as a political and ethical discourse which asserts that Christ’s new kingdom is a practical mandate to struggle against mechanisms of bondage (Friesen, Langan, & Stassen, 1998). Therapeutic goals reflect an ethical principle that mental health involves alleviating injustice. In the Christian tradition, the Church body is an arena for ethical discernment for healthier and more just standards of living (Dueck, 1995).
Feminist theory:
2. Egalitarian therapeutic relationship. Feminist therapists address power differentials within society and the therapeutic relationship. Clients are viewed as competent, co-investigators and are invited to be active participants in defining and producing change. Therapists clearly state their values at the outset of therapy in an effort to demystify the process and prevent destructive power hierarchies (Enns, 1997). Most feminist approaches to therapy emphasize the importance of the therapeutic relationships. It is in solidarity with an equal other that the wounds of injustice are formed into sources of power.
Theological response:
2. Mutuality in relationships is Biblical. The Biblical narrative supports mutual thriving for men and women. Men and women were both created in the image of God, blessed as good creations, and entrusted with the care of other creatures. Although the Hebraic law considered only circumcised men to be legitimate members of the community, the incarnation of Jesus signified a new mutuality, equality, and ethic of gender reconciliation (Van Leeuwen, 1990). In the New Testament, Jesus invited both men and women to follow him. He defended women who wanted to learn and affirmed women’s authority to bear witness to important events. In the new church both men and women were baptized and participants in the Eucharist celebration.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Sunday morning service
Sometimes Rob and I find it difficult to make it to church. There is a Saturday evening service we like, but it doesn't always work out. Then there is the standard Sunday morning, but that has its own problems, if for instance we want to go surfing (which is best in the morning). Some weekends we are bad about communicating what we are expecting to do. We are often out of town. Sometimes we just don't feel like going.
Because of our organizational inaptitude, this morning we made a last minute decision to go to the church nearest to our house, a Methodist church one block away. It is a small church with an even smaller congregation. The choir wore robes and sang traditional hymns with a little bit of sway. The minister was an African American woman who greeted us with hugs and insisted we come back.
The sermon was about the role of spiritual discernment or "sitting with Jesus" in the midst of education. A different type of topic, surprisingly specific. She used the Amaeus (sp?) Road story from Luke. It was very encouraging to me for the literal reason that I have been struggling with school for the last few days. "Am I making the right decisions? Can I make it through the rest of the program without falling apart? Is this the best field for me? Will I ever be a good therapist?" The minister's talk reminded me that even the details of the life can have profound spiritual meaning. Education, the forming of intellect and vocation, is particularly important from a spiritual perspective. It reminded me that I am not filling my mind for myself alone, but so that I can speak, as one who is taught, a word that might bring healing to my fellow human. Thinking about my training as an activity that God is involved with allows me to breath easier. It is not all up to me.
I know some of you reading this may think that faith in general and church in specific is a crutch or a sham or waste of time. I've had my own journey through all those thoughts. Most simply what I've concluded is well expressed by Anne Lamott in the book Traveling Mercies:
"Most of the people I know who have what I want - which is to say, purpose, heart, balance, gratitude, joy - are people with a deep sense of spirituality. They are people in community, who pray, or practice their faith- people banding together to work on themselves and for human rights. They follow a brighter light than the glimmering of their own candle; they are part of something beautiful" (p. 100).
I felt that today, in the tiny group of people who looked different than me, who I had never met before. I felt convicted of trying too hard to read with only the dim light of myself. I needed the brighter light of other followers to help me see more clearly. Thank you.
Because of our organizational inaptitude, this morning we made a last minute decision to go to the church nearest to our house, a Methodist church one block away. It is a small church with an even smaller congregation. The choir wore robes and sang traditional hymns with a little bit of sway. The minister was an African American woman who greeted us with hugs and insisted we come back.
The sermon was about the role of spiritual discernment or "sitting with Jesus" in the midst of education. A different type of topic, surprisingly specific. She used the Amaeus (sp?) Road story from Luke. It was very encouraging to me for the literal reason that I have been struggling with school for the last few days. "Am I making the right decisions? Can I make it through the rest of the program without falling apart? Is this the best field for me? Will I ever be a good therapist?" The minister's talk reminded me that even the details of the life can have profound spiritual meaning. Education, the forming of intellect and vocation, is particularly important from a spiritual perspective. It reminded me that I am not filling my mind for myself alone, but so that I can speak, as one who is taught, a word that might bring healing to my fellow human. Thinking about my training as an activity that God is involved with allows me to breath easier. It is not all up to me.
I know some of you reading this may think that faith in general and church in specific is a crutch or a sham or waste of time. I've had my own journey through all those thoughts. Most simply what I've concluded is well expressed by Anne Lamott in the book Traveling Mercies:
"Most of the people I know who have what I want - which is to say, purpose, heart, balance, gratitude, joy - are people with a deep sense of spirituality. They are people in community, who pray, or practice their faith- people banding together to work on themselves and for human rights. They follow a brighter light than the glimmering of their own candle; they are part of something beautiful" (p. 100).
I felt that today, in the tiny group of people who looked different than me, who I had never met before. I felt convicted of trying too hard to read with only the dim light of myself. I needed the brighter light of other followers to help me see more clearly. Thank you.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Relationships and artichokes
I ate a lovely artichoke for dinner tonight. I particularly like artichokes, because they are a recreational food. Eating an artichoke is an event. It takes time to cook it, carefully peel all those leaves and then pull out the little furry strings... it all climaxes in the small, but deliciously yummy heart.
To my knowledge I was the first one in my immediate family to eat an artichoke. During my second year of college I came home for a weekend wanting to show my family all the new foods I'd learned from my vegitarian roommates (humus & asparagus were also on the list). My parents, who were raised in Indiana, had never experienced the arduous, and distinctly Californian artichoke. It was fun to "introduce" them to a new food (I have since also introduced sushi into the family diet!).
I've been trading voicemails with my brothers this week. It has been almost ten years since I left my parent's house. My youngest brother has gone from an 11-year-old to a man in the time I've been gone. As I grew up, I assumed that my family would always be there to bother me, play with me and take care of me. At the same time, I always assumed that I would leave home and create my own life for myself. I didn't realize that the two assumptions were not necessarily in line. Independence is in my blood. I never wanted to stay in my hometown and I don't think I would last longer than one week under the same roof as any of my family members. I have a thriving separate life, yet, lately I have had a deep longing for less separateness.
Before we moved here, people warned us that Los Angeles is a lonely city. Rob and I didn't pay much attention. We are social, proactive people. We figured we wouldn't have trouble finding friends. We have not had trouble finding friends.... but it has been difficult to find people who "do" friendship the same way that we do. It seems like people are too busy, or they live too far away. We had a difficult conversation with one couple that helped us realize that their expectation for a close friendship was seeing each other once a month. Our expectation is like once a week! My schedule changes every 10 weeks and it feels like my friendship circle changes that often too. For two academic quarters I was good friends with B and then I have not seen her for three months. Grad students do friendship according to convenience. All of us are too busy and not many people create space to live a relational life. There is are also elements of pettiness and competitiveness that can poison friendships. I want to say that I am still different, that my high commitment to relationships has survived LA and grad school. Yet, I often don't return e-mails and calls, or feel too busy to linger in casual conversation. To say I am different would be to lie to myself. I am critiquing a trend that I am part of, even though I desperately want out of it.
In a class this week, Dave Foy, a well-known trauma expert and one of my research advisors, made the off-hand comment that if he had to go through a traumatic experience, the protective factor that he would choose would be social support. Some things make trauma worse, some things "buffer" the negative impact of horrible experiences. Research shows that friends and family are perhaps the most valuable asset during difficult times. Across the board, people who are isolated, lonely and don't feel like they have friends and family to help, have the worst mental health.
Dave's comment touched a nerve with me. With some wonderful exceptions (D&K), I feel like my LA friendships are precarious and would not necessarily withstand a crisis. I deeply miss the years in Sacramento, when we lived near people who thought as highly of friendship as we do, people I still count on for counsel and comfort. I also miss being near my parents and brothers, the people who are obliged to love me no matter what.
Rob and I both feel like we are in a holding pattern, like we are waiting out school at which time we can go back to "real life". It just doesn't feel like real life without strong relationships. Life is little more than monotony without someone to introduce you to artichokes.
To my knowledge I was the first one in my immediate family to eat an artichoke. During my second year of college I came home for a weekend wanting to show my family all the new foods I'd learned from my vegitarian roommates (humus & asparagus were also on the list). My parents, who were raised in Indiana, had never experienced the arduous, and distinctly Californian artichoke. It was fun to "introduce" them to a new food (I have since also introduced sushi into the family diet!).
I've been trading voicemails with my brothers this week. It has been almost ten years since I left my parent's house. My youngest brother has gone from an 11-year-old to a man in the time I've been gone. As I grew up, I assumed that my family would always be there to bother me, play with me and take care of me. At the same time, I always assumed that I would leave home and create my own life for myself. I didn't realize that the two assumptions were not necessarily in line. Independence is in my blood. I never wanted to stay in my hometown and I don't think I would last longer than one week under the same roof as any of my family members. I have a thriving separate life, yet, lately I have had a deep longing for less separateness.
Before we moved here, people warned us that Los Angeles is a lonely city. Rob and I didn't pay much attention. We are social, proactive people. We figured we wouldn't have trouble finding friends. We have not had trouble finding friends.... but it has been difficult to find people who "do" friendship the same way that we do. It seems like people are too busy, or they live too far away. We had a difficult conversation with one couple that helped us realize that their expectation for a close friendship was seeing each other once a month. Our expectation is like once a week! My schedule changes every 10 weeks and it feels like my friendship circle changes that often too. For two academic quarters I was good friends with B and then I have not seen her for three months. Grad students do friendship according to convenience. All of us are too busy and not many people create space to live a relational life. There is are also elements of pettiness and competitiveness that can poison friendships. I want to say that I am still different, that my high commitment to relationships has survived LA and grad school. Yet, I often don't return e-mails and calls, or feel too busy to linger in casual conversation. To say I am different would be to lie to myself. I am critiquing a trend that I am part of, even though I desperately want out of it.
In a class this week, Dave Foy, a well-known trauma expert and one of my research advisors, made the off-hand comment that if he had to go through a traumatic experience, the protective factor that he would choose would be social support. Some things make trauma worse, some things "buffer" the negative impact of horrible experiences. Research shows that friends and family are perhaps the most valuable asset during difficult times. Across the board, people who are isolated, lonely and don't feel like they have friends and family to help, have the worst mental health.
Dave's comment touched a nerve with me. With some wonderful exceptions (D&K), I feel like my LA friendships are precarious and would not necessarily withstand a crisis. I deeply miss the years in Sacramento, when we lived near people who thought as highly of friendship as we do, people I still count on for counsel and comfort. I also miss being near my parents and brothers, the people who are obliged to love me no matter what.
Rob and I both feel like we are in a holding pattern, like we are waiting out school at which time we can go back to "real life". It just doesn't feel like real life without strong relationships. Life is little more than monotony without someone to introduce you to artichokes.
My ankles were on MTV
Last summer, when Rob and I were going through customs at LAX on our way home from Costa Rica, we watched a film crew capture a young woman and two children greet a man arriving on a plane. Rob, the expert on pop culture, identified the man as the drummer from Blink-182. We were flipping through channels tonight when we had a strange sense of deja vu. The airport scene was on MTV. In the background of the scene, we saw our legs, my red flowered skirt, flip-flops, and backpacks. Strange reality trip.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Settling in
I have been home for several days. I am enjoying wireless internet, my own bed, and looking at stars while sitting in the hot tub (this is one of the wonderful months of the year that we can see stars in LA). It has been more difficult than expected to settle back into the schedule. I have been waking up around 3 a.m. and feeling really tired in the late afternoon. Wednesday afternoon I had a consultation meeting led by the dean of my school. I feel asleep in the middle of it. Humbling.
Although I am tired, there is a deep place inside of me that has been set on fire by my experience in China. It is emerging gently from the tiredness. It is a mixture of gratitude, wonder, respect and thoughtfulness. My favorite things were my talks with Angela about the challenges of being a young, female professional (in China and the US), watching Elizabeth come alive in her home culture, leading a group of academics in the hokey pokey, and interacting with counseling students who were hungry to help the hurting people around them.
Business cards are important in China. I had some specially printed before I went. When someone gives you their card, you receive it in both hands, read it carefully, and put it in a safe place. The business card represents the person. When you give or receive a card, you give or receive a part of yourself. Perhaps it is not romantic, but the symbolism is important. I now have a stack of Chinese cards on my desk. I have no idea what I will do with them, but there they sit because I can't throw them away and I don't want to put them in a drawer. They represent the gift that I received from every person that I met in China. They are from the people who hosted me, told me their story, answered my questions, listened to me talk, or simply smiled because that was the best exchange possible. They proudly represented China to me and invited me to know and appreciate their culture. I attempted to reciprocate by giving them my card, rethinking my knowledge and training from their perspective, listening carefully to a language I did not understand, and trying to absorb all that I could from one of the deepest, most diverse, complex countries in the world. I clearly received much more than I gave.
Although I am tired, there is a deep place inside of me that has been set on fire by my experience in China. It is emerging gently from the tiredness. It is a mixture of gratitude, wonder, respect and thoughtfulness. My favorite things were my talks with Angela about the challenges of being a young, female professional (in China and the US), watching Elizabeth come alive in her home culture, leading a group of academics in the hokey pokey, and interacting with counseling students who were hungry to help the hurting people around them.
Business cards are important in China. I had some specially printed before I went. When someone gives you their card, you receive it in both hands, read it carefully, and put it in a safe place. The business card represents the person. When you give or receive a card, you give or receive a part of yourself. Perhaps it is not romantic, but the symbolism is important. I now have a stack of Chinese cards on my desk. I have no idea what I will do with them, but there they sit because I can't throw them away and I don't want to put them in a drawer. They represent the gift that I received from every person that I met in China. They are from the people who hosted me, told me their story, answered my questions, listened to me talk, or simply smiled because that was the best exchange possible. They proudly represented China to me and invited me to know and appreciate their culture. I attempted to reciprocate by giving them my card, rethinking my knowledge and training from their perspective, listening carefully to a language I did not understand, and trying to absorb all that I could from one of the deepest, most diverse, complex countries in the world. I clearly received much more than I gave.
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