Musings of a Body Mind Therapist

Musings of a BodyMind Therapist

Annie Brook, MA LPC

Sitting lakeside, my feet dangling into the cool currents, I find myself musing. I am musing about the work of a somatic psychotherapist, especially a Body-Mind Centering® teacher who is also a certified Body-Mind Psychotherapist. It is my work I ponder, and how to describe the value and benefit of body based psychotherapy to those unfamiliar with somatic work. I live in a world measured by clinical standards and data based on tangible outcomes. To find the language that describes the benefits of BodyMind interventions feels as elusive as this water which slips between my contented toes.

A water skipper is balancing gracefully in the between world where air and water meet. It is utilizing the surface tension created when two differing substances come together. How do I merge the thinking language of clinical descriptors and the feeling language of healing and compassion? In describing this work I have chosen, this work that has chosen me, finding a BodyMind language requires grace.

To those oriented towards the higher cortex and a thinking tone, I speak of the reduced hypertone of the body. This allows greater structural support, thereby producing less tension and measurable stress. When I speak to those oriented towards a feeling tone I speak of capacity for energy, well being and pleasure. I speak of simply feeling better and being happier. It is a delicate dance. If I speak solely from the feeling place, the thinking people wonder how this will increase their paycheck and their ability to negotiate with their boss. They wonder if I’ve had any education or simply an enlightening zealous moment. When I choose thinking language the feeling people get depressed. My words hold no relationship to their humanness and are bereft of the connection of emotion and heart.

I feel the water against my feet and the wind against my cheek. Thinking and feeling seem as different as water and air, yet I am caressed at this moment by both elements. I am aware as I muse of my thoughts, emotions, and sensations. My brain softens its need to know and I take in the moment more thoroughly through my senses. We live in a world that thrives on water and air. Perhaps both languages are necessary. I, like the water skipper, must balance gracefully when I speak and find a way to thrive in the between spaces.

I breathe deeply and listen for the questions beneath my musings. Can my head listen to my heart, and my heart to my head. This is only the place of entering, for both are physically connected. The water is clear where I sit. Down below I can see the bottom where refracted sunlight dances upon the sandy bed. The waves glimmer an invitation to my musing mind. I feel delight at their playfulness. Is my delight tangible? Is it measurable? Is it important?

I think so, more accurately I think and feel and sense so. My belief is that a sense of well being is as important to the soul as a functioning immune system is to the body, and that the two are related. I, like the water skipper, have come to trust this place of the in-between world. Through years of continuous clinical practice and more intermittent yet equally valuable years as a client, I have known and seen results. These results emerged through the use of tools that support the integration of body, mind, and spirit; or, more importantly, the bodymind. When these two know each other deeply it seems that spirit thrives. These tools have such names as Body-Mind Centering® and BodyMind Psychotherapy. On a more generic level they include the cross-cultural tools of ritual, of prayer and meditation, and the tool of soul connection. As a therapist, they demand my ability to hold a safe environment while the client dismembers and enters chaos. I must hold this too, as they remember and integrate their healing journey.

The wind has picked up as I sit. Now little waves are forming across the lake. The bottom is less visible, and the water feels more powerful. My feet are a bit cold. The wind, waves and water are dancing together, co-creating a vortex of energy. I feel lusty and alive, excited at the wildness of the rippling waves. The sky has darkened and hides my ability to see into the depths. I feel the power of these nature forces. Were I from another culture, it might be common to say I feel the soul of the lake. "Hello lake, hello wind. I see and feel you. I acknowledge your presence. My heart is joyously singing." Is this rational behavior? Am I not just animating the inanimate? From a western culture perspective with a historical bias of accepted known sciences; and strictly clinically speaking, I say yes. Yet for me this is only partially true. It is partial because I am not just animating these forces. I am viscerally and physically responding to them. They are animating me. I feel the wind whipping my hair, my pulse increasing, and my nostrils flaring as I take in the rich storm smells. I am healthier for this response and more alive in my passion. I am happier in my soul.

It is this soul work that more accurately describes my interest in serving as a bodymind therapist. It is here that the worlds of tangible and intangible meet and are in dialogue; here that they mutually influence each other. It is this soul work, the effort and dynamic of a soul fully entering a body, which is my secret delight. As therapist, I feel the invitation to be supportive of this soul journey and to model, educate, inform and witness a person’s deeper embodiment. This is my secret goal as a therapist, and it is humbling. I cannot think or will or manage this journey. My ego and pride cannot lead the way.

It was not my professional intention to become a therapist. I slid in the back door. My soul pulled me down into this water, and through my own murky healing emerged my profession. My training has been both academic and experiential. It has been extensive and with masterful teachers. I’ve learned more being a client with a skilled therapist than years of text study alone could produce. Through my own need for healing and integration I’ve found myself helping others on a similar journey of soul work. Viewed as soul work, therapy no longer holds the "fix it" agenda. Crisis no longer seems devastating; success no longer attainment. Through this work, I have witnessed relationships deepen, children conceived and better parented, and careers realigned to match inner desire. I have seen couples separate in the painful honest love of truth, where before there was only anger and hurt. I have watched individuals face their own despair and learn to meet it with compassion and love. These changes I count as useful results.

The wind is too cold now to stay outside. I return home to my cozy couch. I stare into the warm water of my fragrant tea as I remember journey after journey with clients. It was our relationship and an element of grace that made therapy successful. I held the container of support and was both a simple wayshower and witness to their courage. My heart is touched with these memories. I am strengthened as I feel again the demand as therapist to be present in my own depth, and responsive to the pulls and forces of the psychic and relational journey.

I remember now the sessions with Adam. His mother called me when the school suggested Adam be put on the drug ritalin. He was not able to focus during group reading. Again the questions: Head and heart, embodiment or drugs, soul work or maintaining with limited functional abilities? The paradox reared its head. I needed the water skipper's agility to embrace this role. Ritalin was invaluable for some families when a child’s unbridled chaos threatened the demise of the family. It was invaluable because it allowed a child to remain in school in a manageable way for the current educational system. Ritalin helped because schools were overcrowded, had few resources, and had to live within and meet the needs of the societal norms. Ritalin helped because student learning focused more on the development of the high brain rather than its essential and useful middle and low brain neighbors. When children spent hours sitting upright and still they were easier to manage and measure. They were less chaotic under crowded conditions and these methods produced more manageable young people (was the theory). Ritalin was used because families were stressed and society had lost it’s healing rituals. ‘Ritalin or ritual?’ I wondered which Adam actually needed. I breathed deep to open my mind to the possible ‘yes’ of both in the upcoming work.