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Moving

bush swagger

This weekend marks the transition of my moving from one psychotherapy office space to another. For the past five years I have steadily grown a wholesome healing space in a house we referred to as Saxon, the street name. From Tuesday I am booked to do sessions in a space that does not have a nickname yet, but which is appropriately located in Human Crescent. It is no longer a house, it is just an office attached to someone else’s home and I am having to do all kinds of internal adjustments to help myself think through what creates the healing space.  My years of dealing with a difficult profession has taught me to go back to basics when in doubt. I would love to offer on tap the magical ingredient where people can let go enough of their defences to talk through what is inside their psyches and leave feeling lighter, but often it is a combination of things that create that. The space must feel right, I must be clear-headed enough to listen well, they must feel safe enough to let go their hyper vigilant observance of the external world do develop eyes for the internal realm. I have actively worked in private practice as a psychotherapist for 22 years now, and this is going to be office number 5. I hope I learn from this experience. I will take this elephant as my totem, keeping a thick skin against the scratches, trampling down the tangled undergrowth, feeding because it is needed, teaching the young the pathways of doing things pragmatically, and never forgetting those who helped me on the journey. I thank you and know most of all that your well wishes for my continued professional capacity makes the difference to my ability to do the work. I am grateful to each of you who have moved through these steps with me and offered practical and moral support.

The art of creative well being

gettingthestory

I am a Clinical Psychologist who has actively worked in Private Practice since 1994. I also love photography. The links between creativity and mental health are frequently debated and I am always curious about what is said. Does one have to be tortured, poor, and misunderstood to create great art? Is the final product the measure of creativity? What is the difference between the road taken by the dedicated artist and the everyday creative process used by others?

Pain can leave any person introspective. Recovery is creative. Loss is an example. When we are in pain due to life’s inevitable losses, we turn away from others and from our world. Colours darken or are not noticed. Life loses its flavour. There is no energy for joy. And for a time this is a necessary part of saying goodbye. But the above is also a recipe for healing, and one that any individual can use regardless of talent or training, when the time for recovery arrives. Notice the colours and the darkness subsides, have a meal with friends and life’s flavour returns. Consciously seeking out creative activity transmutes the inner pain and connects one back to the world.

As a psychologist I love working with consciously creative individuals. They are able to adjust to the challenge of new thinking and they widen my own horizons time and again. Consciously choosing to live creatively is a sign of mental health. When someone tells me they are not creative at all, I feel challenged. Here I may try to get the person to think again about what they are already doing, or about what they should do differently. And when I run out of answers and the questions no longer make sense, I take my camera and go and look for things to photograph. It puts a smile on my face.

(Article written for publication in I love Yzer magazine)