Tag Archives: Counseling Connoisseur

Counseling Connoisseur: Autumn lessons in turning inward and letting go

By Cheryl Fisher November 27, 2019

“At first we do not know what deeds or misdeeds, what destiny, what good or evil we contain, and only the autumn can show what the spring has engendered; only in the evening will it be seen what the morning began.” —  C.G. Jung

The leaves rustle in the trees as the wind grazes the tops, now bleeding color from the stems. Golden, russet and brown shades color the tips of the horizon as the seasons move from summer to fall. The earth begins to bring its energy toward its center as it prepares for the cooler months.

I begin my rituals of nesting. I cover the herbs and berry plants with straw and fill the feeders—assuring my feathered friends will have seeds and full bellies. Salads and light fair are replaced with soups and stews. The house is filled with the alchemy of savory and sweet spices.

I don shawls and pashminas and shuffle around in fleece-lined footwear. The shift toward autumnal consciousness brings quiet and an inward focus that is forgiving of extra pounds hidden under tunics and capes. I welcome the harvesting and gathering by all creatures as we prepare for the often-dreaded winter months that lie ahead.

Nature’s seasons offer guidance and are witness to the phases of change in our human experience. The first half of our lives—the spring and summer of our youth and young adulthood fade into the beginning of the second half—an autumnal middle adulthood that can offer peace and solace as we learn to turn inward. Just as the last of the leaves gently fall to the ground, we learn to let go of that which we no longer need. We let go of judgment and self-loathing, external validation and the defenses of the ego of youth.

The arrival of autumn

Our early years are characterized by quick growth and the establishment of our own separate identity. We build our sense of self from numerous factors: I am female. I am tall. I am a writer. I am a helper. I am a hard worker.

Once we have established our place in the world—one that centers on our individuality—a shift in perspective occurs. Autumn has arrived and we begin to look for greater meaning.

In “Falling Upward: A Spirituality for Two Halves of Life,” Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation, says that the shift [to the second half of life] “… feels like a return to simplicity after having learned from all the complexity.” According to Rohr, life’s second half offers the understanding that peace and tolerance far outweigh an air of judgment and righteousness. Knee jerk reactions are replaced with contemplation and discernment. We begin to welcome the wisdom gained from many years of experience and coaching from others. We have started to cultivate our own sense of internal guidance and others may look to us for mentorship. We may recognize a sense of power — a force acting from within that we know is not our ego, and we begin to trust it.

 

A time of change

As we enter our middle to later adulthood, we may find judging people more difficult and that accepting people as they are is more in keeping with our heart’s desire. We no longer have to prove that our ethnicity, religion or socioeconomic group is superior to another. We have a greater understanding of our narrative and the mistakes we’ve made and are more able to view the errors of others in the context of humanity. According to Rohr, “Creating drama has become boring!”

During this time, we may begin to see love as something to be offered unconditionally, rather than given only for what we receive in return. Erik Erikson theorized that in middle adulthood — by his definition a span encompassing the ages of 40 to 65 years old — people begin to develop concern for others that extends beyond self and family. He called this need to nurture others—particularly the next generation—generativity. Erikson believed that this desire to give back to the world is so strong that if we are unable to contribute to the greater good, we feel a sense of failure and “stagnation.” Alfred Adler wrote extensively on the value of Gemeinschaftsgefuhl, or social interest — extending beyond oneself to creating a useful lifestyle. As counselors, we can help clients identify their gifts and find ways to make offerings to the world.

A different compass

According to Rohr, the first half of life is constructed through “impulse controls; traditions; group symbols; family loyalties; basic respect for authority; civil and church laws…”

However, in the second half of life, rules as a basis for action give way to authenticity and power directed from an internal moral compass. With age comes the understanding that there can be a difference between what is legal and what is moral. For example, there was a time in the not-so-distant past when it was illegal for black Americans to eat in the same restaurants as white Americans. While this was the law, it certainly challenges my moral compass. Throughout history, many activists—such as Martin Luther King, Jr.; Mother Teresa; Mahatma Gandhi; and Jesus Christ—have broken the laws of their time to move society toward higher moral ground.

The test of time has provided us with the experience of knowing to pick our battles. No longer feeling the need for competition and keeping up with the Joneses, we are able to enjoy just being in the general dance. We feel at peace more often with what is, and we appreciate things the way they are in the moment. We look to simplify our lives—making space for relationships and pleasure. Much needed playtime re-enters our calendars that have suffered years of overcommitment. We turn inward and welcome the peace.

As we work with clients who are transitioning from the summer of their youth to the autumn passage of middle adulthood, we can remind them of their strengths and the gifts they have cultivated throughout their lives. We can promote their generous offering of time and talents in service to their communities. We can help them identify their beliefs and values, and challenge the dissonance between their internal moral compass and the life they live. We can encourage their inner dialogue and the wisdom that they possess. As counselors, we can promote these changes by offering affirmation of their strengths and the beauty of coming into one’s own self in a way that is authentic, liberating and powerful.

Perhaps this is what the poet Jenny Joseph intended to capture in “Warning,” written in 1961 when she 29.

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

 

 

****

 

Cheryl Fisher is a licensed clinical professional counselor in private practice in Annapolis, Maryland. She is director and assistant professor for Alliant International University California School of Professional Psychology’s online MA in Clinical Counseling.  Her research interests include examining sexuality and spirituality in young women with advanced breast cancer; nature-informed therapy; and geek therapy. She may be contacted at cyfisherphd@gmail.com.

 

*****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

The Counseling Connoisseur: Picnicking as a therapeutic tool

By Cheryl Fisher August 29, 2019

“A picnic is a state of mind and can be made anywhere.” — Author Unknown

 

A few years ago, I purchased a beautiful, fully furnished wicker picnic basket from Ireland. It is lined in moss green fabric with leather straps that hinge the basket lid and latch the top closed. The lid lifts to expose beautiful porcelain plates with huge sunflowers painted on the creamy surfaces. Moss and golden linen napkins are folded neatly to the side, and crystal wine glasses are nestled against the fabric basket wall. Silver salt and pepper shakers hang in leather straps alongside the carefully arranged silverware and wine opener. A dark green corduroy container is perfect for holding a chilled wine bottle and a larger, insulated, corduroy covered cooler holds containers of varied sizes — perfect for holding nibbles and tapas to enjoy with the beverage du jour. A matching moss green blanket is neatly rolled and strapped against the side of the basket with leather ties. It is just lovely and evokes the promise of fun family gatherings, evenings under the stars, romantic dinners and quiet solo outings with an enticing book.

This is what I love about picnics. They can be as casual as a peanut butter sandwich devoured while lying on a blanket in your backyard or as adventurous as the promise of a chilled shrimp cocktail thawing in the warmth of the hot boulders that hold kayaks after a rapid run down a stream. Or as elegant as lobster rolls and blueberry lemonade consumed while overlooking the Bay of Fundy. What picnics all possess is the promise of a satisfying sensory experience with good food, great company, and a setting that soothes the mind, body and spirit.

The history of picnicking

Picnicking has evolved over time. Although early picnics consisted of medieval hunting feasts of the wealthy, over the centuries they have become more egalitarian. The location of picnics has also evolved. Early European picnics took place indoors and in the city where the elite would promenade fancy foods and fine dining. However, picnicking eventually shifted to outdoor pastoral settings and became a custom common to people of all classes and socioeconomic levels. Picnics have been captured in art and literature, epitomizing leisure and social gathering.

Some picnics occur in seemingly strange places. For example, during the 19th century, Americans regularly picnicked in cemeteries. Although this is no longer a common custom in the United States, other cultures continue to picnic among the dead. Picnicking in a graveyard can provide an opportunity to honor deceased loved ones while enjoying a peaceful green space.

In many countries, specific holidays, events and forms of attire are celebrated with picnics. For example, Japan’s Cherry Blossom Festival is often accompanied by a hanami (cherry blossom viewing) picnic. In Argentina, after their official celebration on Christmas Eve, Argentines often spend Christmas picnicking outdoors—in some cases on the beach. Australia’s Northern Territory has an official Picnic Day celebrated on the first Monday in August. Picnic Day was first observed by railway workers, and the town of Adelaide River honors this history by celebrating with a Railway Heritage Picnic Day event. In Finland, a traditional May Day celebration includes a “herring picnic” in which pickled herring and other salty foods play a starring role, and Greece ushers in the beginning of Lent with kite flying and family picnics.

Unusual attire—or the lack thereof—accompany picnics in some countries. Nude picnicking may not be an official activity in Germany, but nudity is more widely accepted there and is common in some popular locations for picnics such as parks and the beach. While Germans may not have established nude picnicking as a tradition, in France, nudists hope to do just that. In June of 2018 and 2019, naturists held a public nude picnic in a park in Paris.

However, picnics are not just a pleasurable leisure activity—they can also be therapeutic.

 

Five ways in which picnicking can be therapeutic

  1. It is a form of nature therapy

Most picnics are accompanied by an outdoor setting. In a lush field, by a babbling brook, on a sandy shoreline, at a park table, or at the peak of a mountain top, picnics encourage outdoor dining.

As I have discussed in previous columns, research suggests that natural settings can help decrease cortisol levels and blood pressure while increasing serotonin levels. Spending time in the outdoors also exposes people to more sunlight. Light therapy can be an effective treatment for certain types of depression—particularly cases caused by seasonal affective disorder.

Simply being in nature is healing.

 

  1. It can cultivate positive social experiences

Rather than the isolating experience of eating in front of a digital device (TV, computer, smartphone), picnicking promotes personal interaction and engagement that can result in a satisfying social experience as well as a meal. Communication is enhanced as friends and family enjoy a meal amidst the slower pace of natural settings.

 

  1. It provides an opportunity to practice acceptance and commitment (ants and bugs cohabitating)

Picnics offer an excellent opportunity to lean into the reality of outdoor dining — which includes those creatures who may not have been invited. Bugs join the party, and unless you are going to spend the time swatting them away, it is an opportunity to learn patience and tolerance while enjoying the many other aspects of outdoor dining that are less of a nuisance.

 

  1. It encourages reflection

The naturally slower pace of outdoor dining promotes a more mindful experience. It is one that creates the space for quiet and reflection. I love to begin my mornings by eating breakfast on my patio. It’s a mini-picnic just beyond my back door that embraces an appreciation of the morning sun and is enhanced by the fragrant herbs from my garden and the morning activity of the birds and small animals. As I sip my tea, my mind clears, and I have the mental bandwidth for reflection of gratitude–for the beautiful day, my health or the fullness of my life (translation: busy schedule). My practice is just one example of how picnics can offer opportunities for reflection.

 

  1. It can promote healthier eating

Recently, I packed up my beautiful picnic basket with a variety of foods. As I nibbled on the fresh vegetables that I had harvested from my home garden that morning — dipped in warm lemon-infused hummus — I honestly could not imagine anything tasting as splendid. The fresh air, green space and gorgeous food made for an exquisite sensory experience. While it is true that a quick visit to a fast-food drive-through could fill a picnic container (basket, backpack, bucket), people often select foods that promote healthier eating.

 

 

So, the next time you are faced with clients who could benefit from a mini-break that would include a therapeutic experience that will encourage positive interactions and reflection, suggest they pack their favorite goodies and head for an outdoor space. Inviting clients to participate in a picnic promotes their connection with self, others and natural settings. Picnicking can help enhance engagement, interaction, and reflection. It also encourages the development of more tolerance and may even lead to healthier eating. As the summer wanes, prescribing a picnic is a traditional, creative and therapeutic way to ease the stressors found in a skim, scan and scroll world.

 

 

 

****

Cheryl Fisher

Cheryl Fisher is a licensed clinical professional counselor in private practice in Annapolis, Maryland. She is director and assistant professor for Alliant International University California School of Professional Psychology’s online MA in Clinical Counseling.  Her research interests include examining sexuality and spirituality in young women with advanced breast cancer; nature-informed therapy; and geek therapy. She may be contacted at cyfisherphd@gmail.com.

 

*****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

 

Counseling Connoisseur: Revisiting the Spoon Theory

By Cheryl Fisher July 1, 2019

“If opening your eyes, or getting out of bed, or holding a spoon, or combing your hair is the daunting Mount Everest you climb today, that is okay.” – Carmen Ambrosio

 

Tara, 36, wakes up and rolls out of bed. Her pain factor is a five out of 10. She feels well rested after spending the past two days in bed–the result of working an 8-hour day and going to dinner with friends. Today she will try to finish her laundry and run errands. The lupus flare-up appears to have subsided–for now.

Kevin, 28, a graduate student, is not as fortunate. He struggles to keep up with the demands of a full-time job and graduate school. Kevin has weeks when he is able to manage both. However, today, he has become physically and emotionally paralyzed by his autoimmune disorder and struggles to bring even his thoughts together. He is contemplating taking an academic leave of absence until his health improves.

Carmen, 57, has been living with multiple sclerosis (MS) for over 20 years. Each day she wakes up and takes inventory of her physical and emotional well-being. Some days are better than others. However, the uncertainty of her health has prompted her to seize the moment and engage fully in her craft as an author.

For Tara, Kevin, Carmen, and thousands of others, the challenge of managing their chronic conditions while also meeting the demands of daily life can be daunting. To those around them, they look perfectly healthy. Smart and ambitious, they excel when they are feeling well. However, without warning they can be thrust into the throes of physical, emotional and cognitive dysfunction, rendering them unable to get out of bed, let alone handle professional, academic or personal responsibilities and obligations.

The Spoon Theory Revisited

In an attempt to help her dear friend understand what living with lupus feels like, writer and activist Christine Miserandino crafted The Spoon Theory to explain how energy is limited by chronic illness. Miserandino uses spoons as a metaphor for energy. According to the theory, a person has a certain number of spoons representing energy each day, and each activity depletes a portion of those spoons. In this way, individuals are encouraged to ration and pace their spoon/energy usage in order to accomplish their daily activities. This theory has become widely accepted, and some individuals have even coined the name “Spoonies” for those with conditions that restrict energy. However, the Spoon Theory relies on myths about chronic illness and energy.

Myth 1: There is a set number of spoons each day.

The amount of energy (spoons) needed to function is not prescribed in a daily dose. Clients may wake up and feel that they are armed with a picnic basket filled with spoons. Then a few hours later, they crash and burn and are entirely depleted of whatever resources they thought they had. It is as if the bottom fell out of the basket without warning.

As Jennie, a blogger for The Mighty, an online support community for people facing health challenges, describes in her post, “Why the spoon theory doesn’t fit my life,” what seems like a high energy day can suddenly turn into total depletion:

“Often I wake in a morning and think, ‘Yes! Today is a good day!’ Then, within hours, or even minutes, the tides have turned. Maybe my spoons are ninjas? Maybe the borrowers have been rifling through my stash? Whatever it is, I can go from having just enough energy to less than zero quicker than a scrambling fighter jet. Sometimes it’s due to a weather change; sometimes it’s stress. Often I have no clue whatsoever what happened.”

Myth 2: Spoons can be banked for another day

The Spoon Theory suggests that rest will help bank energy for the next day. This sounds like it makes sense, right? However, chronic illness doesn’t play fair. Resting for a day or two may result in feeling even more fatigued the following day. This makes it difficult to plan activities for the day, week or month. For example, my own daughter, who was recently diagnosed with lupus, confided that some days she wakes up feeling energized only to crash within hours and be wholly depleted the remainder of the day or even the next few days. It is frustrating to both the person who has the illness and those around them who may want to make plans. At times, life is only manageable in chunks of minutes versus days.

Myth 3: Activities require a specific number of spoons

One of the challenges of the Spoon Theory is that it is impossible to quantify (in spoons) the amount of energy it takes to accomplish any given activity. The amount of energy expended is influenced by other variables, including pain threshold. For example, getting dressed for the day may be as easy as slipping into an outfit one day, but feel like donning a suit of armor the next. So, although the activity for both days is identical, the depletion of energy is vastly different. Therefore, preparing for energy expenditure can feel like a futile effort.

 

How counselors can help

Living with the day-to-day uncertainties of a chronic illness can be isolating, alienating and frustrating. Making plans with friends and family must be spontaneous and depends on the illness effects du jour. Counselors can assist clients and families who are impacted by chronic illness by validating their experiences, providing psychoeducation, and stepping up to advocate on local, regional and national levels.

Validate

By nature, counselors are exceptional listeners who are able to hear and identify the concerns of the client. Additionally, we can validate the challenges experienced by the client. Clients may feel anger and resentment at how their condition may restrict activities. They may feel isolated and alone. Friends and family who were present at the initial diagnosis may have returned to their busy lives. This often may leave the client feeling abandoned and alienated. Validating the difficulties of navigating chronic illness allows the client to feel heard and understood.

Educate

While we are able to sit with the client and the emotional, cognitive and physical pain of chronic illness, we can also provide psychoeducation that may promote strategies for better self-care. For example, helping clients grieve the old lifestyle and create a new normal that is shame-free and includes strength-based coping skills that allow them to deploy greater flexibility in the face of those “not-so-great days.”

Counselors can also help clients locate resources in the community, such as support groups or career assistance. They can provide education to family and friends about the uncertainty of living with chronic conditions that tax energy. For example, helping significant others understand that staying in bed all day is not indicative of a character flaw or laziness but a real depletion of energy (those spoons again!).

Advocate

Counselors can contribute to efforts for institutional changes that will benefit clients by participating in legislation and signing petitions. We can attend hearings and provide testimony to the needs of our clients. Finally, counselors can use their voice and power to advocate for clients by participating in any number of activities to increase awareness or fund research.

Conclusion

The Spoon Theory attempts to explain the energy consumed by chronic illness. In reality, it oversimplifies the complexity of day-to-day functioning. Perhaps one of the gifts of counseling is to provide a relationship without conditions where the client is valued beyond the constraints of the illness and a place that welcomes vulnerability and recognizes the courage of showing up each day in spite of the challenges. Perhaps the act of counseling is — as Brené Brown suggests — joining the client in the “arena” and experiencing their pain and disappointment. Perhaps even in the complexity and uncertainty of living with chronic pain and illness, the counselor can help clients recognize that showing up each day if worth the challenges.

Finally, perhaps in the midst of the discomfort of the seeming betrayal of the body and mind, the best gift counselors offer to their clients is as author Hannah Brencher says in her book,  If You Find This Letter: My Journey to Find Purpose Through Hundreds of Letters to Strangers, “… the permission to feel safe in their own skin. To feel worthy. To feel like they are enough.”

 

****

 

Related reading, from the Counseling Today archives:

The tangible effects of invisible illness

Assessing depression in those who are chronically ill

 

****

 

Cheryl Fisher

Cheryl Fisher is a licensed clinical professional counselor in private practice in Annapolis, Maryland. She is director and assistant professor for Alliant International University California School of Professional Psychology’s online MA in Clinical Counseling.  Her research interests include examining sexuality and spirituality in young women with advanced breast cancer; nature-informed therapy; and geek therapy. She may be contacted at cyfisherphd@gmail.com.

 

*****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

 

Counseling Connoisseur: The Gift of Community for Counselors — An Interview with Thelma Duffey

By Cheryl Fisher April 30, 2019

“Pull up a chair. Take a taste. Come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious ― Ruth Reichl

 

I sit down to write my last client note of the day and click away about the client’s presenting concerns. Smiling at the great progress she has made, I conclude with final comments and an action plan and then click save and submit where my therapy notes will be forever stored in a HIPAA-compliant digital safe. I slurp down my last sip of coffee–cold from the morning. Just a few more things to do then I can head home. I put away my files and lock the file cabinet. I pack up my bag and turn off the lights. I am the last to leave the office so I turn off the Keurig and store the teas and sweeteners. I look around at the empty suite. It is 8:30 p.m. I wonder if my colleagues were in today? I have seen clients back–to-back today with little time to socialize. I lock up the suite and head home.

I have found that while private practice affords many wonderful professional and personal benefits, it can be a very isolating experience. I see 20 to 25 clients a week, and I rarely schedule enough break time to visit with the other clinicians who practice in the suite. We each have our own schedule and do not rely on each other for our practices. Therefore, with the exception of my quarterly peer supervision breakfasts, weeks can go by without actually interacting with another therapist. This, I admit is not a good standard of practice, which becomes incredibly apparent when I leap toward my annual conferences with fervor. Conferences provide me with not only clinical, academic and business development, but professional community.

Professional community

As counselors we are held to a code of ethics that does not allow us to discuss the circumstances of our work day with others. Many years ago I was doing work with a prominent actress. While I would have never disclosed the circumstances of her therapy, I longed to tell my husband about meeting with her. Or the ex-girlfriend of a well-known musician. We work with celebrities, politicians and pillars of the community, in addition to marginalized individuals. The pain and suffering we hold for our clients is (at times) palpable. However, with the exception of supervision (and our personal journals which require de-identification), we don’t have a forum to process our work.

Community is essential. It is a place where others understand the magnitude of the work that we do and the weight it carries in our daily lives. It energizes, inspires and fortifies — allowing us to return to our work rejuvenated and renewed. Where do you find professional community? Do you participate in local counseling-affiliated organizations or make use of the extensive national opportunities that include the National Board of Certified Counselors (NBCC) and the American Counseling Association (ACA)?

Over the many years of my practice, I have affiliated with both local and national groups. However, I longed to find a forum that appreciates my research in nature therapy and my clinical interest in superhero narratives. I wanted to dialogue with others around the role of expressive arts and energy psychology in clinical practice. I wanted to collaborate with creative and innovative practitioners. I found my community in the Association for Creativity in Counseling (ACC), a division of the American Counseling Association (ACA).

I presented at ACC’s 2018 annual conference in beautiful Clearwater, Florida, where I was joined by dozens of others who genuinely uphold a creative lens to clinical practice. In addition to my nature-informed workshop and superhero presentation, topics included movement, art, expressive and animal-assisted therapies. Additionally, energy psychology was explored as a clinical modality. As I attached my Wonder Woman headpiece and armbands in preparation for my presentation I walked down the hallway of the conference and passed Snow White preparing for her session, I knew I had found my people.

 

Q+A

Thelma Duffey, ACA’s 64th president

Thelma Duffey, former ACA president and the founder of both the ACC and its accompanying Journal for Creativity in Counseling, participated in my nature therapy discussion and afterward allowed me to interview her about the conception and vision of ACC.

Cheryl:   What inspired you to found ACC?

Thelma: There were several factors that inspired my interest in creativity, and my hope to establish a division within ACA focusing on creativity in counseling. For one, I learned early on that as connected as we can be with our clients, and in spite of our sharing a trusting relationship, there are times in counseling when talk just isn’t enough. Most of us can identify with feeling stuck in a situation, thought, or feeling, and our clients are no different.  The good news is that people carry all sorts of resources within them, and there are all sorts of resources around us, which can serve as creative, innovative supports. When we tap into our clients’ creativity, and into our own, and share that creativity within a growth-fostering therapeutic relationship, we can create opportunities for change. This was particularly evident when I chaired a series of creativity conferences in the 1990-2000s in central Texas. The energy around them was incredible. These conferences became a place where practitioners, students, and counselor educators would come year after year with so much enthusiasm and shared energy.  It was that response, and my own experiences with clients, that generated the passion to establish ACC as a “home” for counselors with this interest.

 

Cheryl:  Over the past 14 years, what changes have you observed in ACC?

Thelma: One of the more exciting things I’ve seen over time is ACC’s growth into an international community of counselors who share a like-minded passion; counselors who are out there doing great things and making a difference. I’ve seen ACC evolve from a grass-roots effort into a well-established organization represented by members living across the country and throughout the world. That is amazing! I just returned from Clearwater, Florida where the ACC conference was held, and it was terrific being there with such great colleagues sharing such incredible ideas and interests.

 

Cheryl: What are your hopes/vision for ACC?

Thelma: My hope for ACC is that it will continue to thrive and that the membership will feel the comfort of “home” that we hoped it would. My vision for ACC is that as people connect with one another, they will discover new ways to support clients and communities, using creativity, connection, and the kind of compassion that can inspire change and promote healing.

 

Cheryl: What would you like counselors to know about ACC?

Thelma: ACC is a home base for students and counselors interested in exploring creative, diverse and relational counseling approaches. It was founded on the principles of relational-cultural theory and focuses on the interdependence of relationship and creativity. Creativity in Counseling as a new counseling approach has been included in a theories textbook, and it is exciting to see the many ways in which our creative thought processes, interventions, research, and resourcefulness can promote change. I feel so fortunate to be part of ACC!

 

 

Finding a community

I plan on attending and speaking at this year’s Association in Creativity’s annual conference, which will take place September 6-7 in Clearwater, Florida. I am ecstatic to have found a forum of like-minded clinicians who I can both share with and learn from in a professional forum.

The American Counseling Association has 18 divisions, four national regions, and 56 chartered branches in the United States, Europe and Latin America. Take the time to seek out a community that will ignite you and your clinical practice. It will not only inspire you– it will also benefit your clients.

 

Colleagues having fun at ACA’s 2019 Conference & Expo in New Orleans (Photo by by Paul Sakuma Photography).

 

****

 

Cheryl Fisher

Cheryl Fisher is a licensed clinical professional counselor in private practice in Annapolis, Maryland. She is director and assistant professor for Alliant International University California School of Professional Psychology’s online MA in Clinical Counseling.  Her research interests include examining sexuality and spirituality in young women with advanced breast cancer; nature-informed therapy; and geek therapy. She may be contacted at cyfisherphd@gmail.com.

 

 

 

 

*****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

The Counseling Connoisseur: Cultivating silence in a noisy world

By Cheryl Fisher March 11, 2019

Silence is about rediscovering, through pausing, the things that bring us joy –  Erling Kagge

In an attempt to reboot, my husband and I packed up our fur family and spent a week at the beach over the Christmas holiday. We got up each morning and trekked the shoreline immersing ourselves in the feel of the fresh salt air, the crash of the ocean waves and the caw of the seagulls flying overhead. We walked miles and miles each day — often in companionable silence with our cell phones off and tucked away in back pockets. Every now and then we would stop, plop down on the cool, damp sand and just be in silence.

Noise does not simply refer to sound, it includes the busyness of both internal and external environments. The constant need to “do” something and the aversion to boredom prevent the opportunity to relax the body and the mind. While technology has certainly contributed to the “skim, scan, scroll” processing of our world, it has also generated the technostress afforded by constant availability. Therefore, it is important to recognize the value of cultivating a practice of silence.

The Benefits of Silence

According to a study published in the March 2015 issue of the journal Brain Structure and Function, preliminary research on mice indicates that  as little as two hours of silence may promote brain cell growth by strengthening the hippocampus and improving memory. Additionally, some research has found that cultivating just moments of silence can lower blood pressure and heart rate, and improve relaxation and sleep even better than listening to soothing music.

Ways to Cultivate Silence

  1. Early morning moments: Invite intentional silence into your morning. Curl up in a blanket and sit in the dark allowing your eyes to focus slowly. Take a few moments to gaze at the sunrise, or inhale the fresh morning air. Ease into your day grounded and calm.
  2. Thankful mealtimes: Use the first few seconds prior to eating to close your eyes, take a deep breath and take a moment to appreciate your meal. Attending to your meal in this manner will not only provide you with a nice transition from your busy morning but welcome a more pleasant dining experience.
  3. Breathe: Throughout our busy days, we often forget about breath. We become complacent that the next breath will come without effort or thought. Take a moment to turn your attention to your breath. Are you taking full, deep cleansing breaths? Or do you inhale wisps of air? Take time to breathe.
  4. Meeting preludes: Begin your meetings at work with a five- minute practice of silence. This will allow the transition from work to the meeting agenda at hand. You and your co-workers will begin the meeting focused and ready to tackle the work.
  5. Media fast: Intentionally unplug for thirty minutes, an hour, a day. No cheating! No devices. A colleague of mine has initiated Unplugged Sundays, where she and her family members put away devices and spend time interacting as a family.
  6. Brisk walk in nature: Nature provides endless opportunities to soothe and refresh. Take a 15-minute walk around the block or on a nearby trail. When I work from home, I schedule a couple brief walks with my dogs to clear the clutter from my brain.
  7. Bedtime brain purge: Prior to bedtime, take a moment to purge all of the worries of the day. Lists of things left undone. Ruminations of concerns. Simply let them go long enough to prepare for slumber. You can use a journal to quickly write down your thoughts or just say them all out loud — quickly.
  8. Gratitude: I love to end my day with a gratitude list. I crawl into my comfy bed and immediately acknowledge the comforts of my home, my bed, my full tummy and the loving companions (my dogs and hubby) who share my life.
  9. Meditation practice: Consider beginning a meditation practice. A 20 minute practice morning, midday, or evening can promote calm focus to the day.
  10. Silent retreat: If you find that you crave longer jaunts with silence, consider participating in a silent retreat. Many retreat houses offer formal or informal retreats. Additionally, you may choose from group or individual silent retreats. I regularly schedule overnight escapes to the beach by myself to just reboot. I return ready to take on life’s challenges.

 

Modern-day living is accompanied by a cacophony of external noise and internal concerns. Our bodies and minds cannot sustain the ongoing level of stimulation without disease or disorder. Apparently, silence is golden, and it is imperative to make time for silence in our noisy lives. As counselors, we are trained to listen and sometimes we just need to unplug, retreat and refresh.

 

*****

 

Cheryl Fisher

Cheryl Fisher is a licensed clinical professional counselor in private practice in Annapolis, Maryland. She is director and assistant professor for Alliant International University California School of Professional Psychology’s online MA in Clinical Counseling.  Her research interests include examining sexuality and spirituality in young women with advanced breast cancer; nature-informed therapy; and geek therapy. She may be contacted at cyfisherphd@gmail.com.

 

 

 

 

*****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.