Tonight my normally stoic, competent daughter sat down beside me and said she would like to try yoga. I had noticed that she appeared stressed over the last couple of weeks - tense, tight, rigid, holding it together. I have asked her if she is OK - fearing that her relationship may not be going so well. She in in Year 12 this year. Vice captain. Guardian.
Great grades. Good student. Motivated. Everything is fine with the relationship.
She sat down me and talked and I was focused on the practical aspects such as how could she manage to get to yoga when I was at work. "I can pick you up after work if you can get to the studio from school honey." I was only half focused on the conversation but tried to attend to her need to do yoga. I was sitting at my computer reading and reflecting on phenomenology. I was in the zone and trying hard to stay there while still paying her some attention. After my work, study and at 10.30pm there is not much left for being focused and sensitive to my children.
I looked up from the computer and asked her if everything was OK and she started to cry.
I immediately focused on her. I turned my body towards her. I immediately felt guilty that I was not more aware that she was upset. I noted that as soon as the tears started, I changed.
I felt different towards her. Open, connected, concerned - I wanted to respond. I realised that what she was talking about was important. She was vulnerable and her tears showed me her authentic feelings. We talked and I listened to her . I sensed her pain. Was this my mirror neurons firing - feeling her pain through watching her expressions?
I noted her tears rolling down her cheeks. I observed her body. Her shoulders were scrunched. Her hands over her face at times. Her face was wrinkled and full of expression. She was trying to talk but finding it hard in between the tears. Her breathing was shallow interspersed with rapid inward breaths that racked her body. She averted her gaze at times. At other times she would look up at me. Pleadingly.
She needed me.
I rose to the occasion. I closed my laptop and put aside my study world. I asked her more questions about what was happening in life. I reassured her that we were in this together. That we would sort this out together. We chatted. I made her a hot drink. She said she felt better just talking about her worries. Sharing her anxiety and her fears that she would not do well in her Year 12. She went off to bed and I offered to drive her to school the next morning so she did not have to go on the bus. We hugged warmly. She held me needing some of my strength.
I had lost my train of thoughts on phenomenology. But I was taken by the tears. The outward expression of emotion that pulled me from my study. I felt different towards her. Warmer, connected, protective, compassionate and open. I understood why she had been withdrawn, upset, rigid and irritable in the past few weeks. My annoyance at being interrupted was gone.
Is this why I am exploring how three dimensional artmaking can help access and work with emotions. Is it the emotions that help me to connect with people - both my clients and my daughter. Is it that the expression of emotions in therapy help build connection between myself and my client. That our relationship deepens through vulnerability, authenticity and tears. That I am able to empathsize as a therapist. I am more attuned. And is it through the connection that the healing can happen.
So instead of thinking about emotion emerging from the artmaking, am I interested in emotion because it builds connections and relationships between therapist and client. In turn are we able to embark on harder work because of the trust and honesty.
Is it that the emotion followed by the artmaking helps my clients to come up with more insights into their life issues? Is it that the three dimensional artmaking reflects the realness of the situation - like the tears reflect the realness of the person and their pain. Is it the effect on the therapist that is the crucial aspect of accessing and working with emotion?
