The No Normal
In order for me to write poetry that’s not political, I must listen to the birds, and in order to hear the birds, the war planes must be silent. - Marwan Makhoul
Dear Friends,
I have never lived in a war zone. The closest I’ve come was my time in Saudi Arabia during the Houthi missile strikes in 2018. There, the danger wasn’t so much that a missile would strike your home or where you worked–the Saudis have an accurate, high-tech missile defense system. But even defense missiles taking out attack missiles results in some debris, and it’s got to hit the earth somewhere.
In our house in Riyadh, when we heard a boom, we’d shelter in the bathroom. It felt like a tornado warning: your heart would beat a little faster, but you didn’t actually believe you’d be hit.
There was debate at the time about whether the American family members should be sent home. There were politics at play. There wasn’t much transparency from anyone in the know. For some people, the uncertainty felt unbearable.
But I was okay. Maybe it’s because I was being gaslit into believing things were normal. But there was also just so much normal happening. I had work to do. Laundry to fold. A date with my friend Susan to play tennis on Wednesday.
If the missile strikes had escalated, maybe something would have changed. But they didn’t, really. And then it was time for us to move to our next post. Saudi Arabia wasn’t my country, and neither was Yemen.
I’m remembering the missile days in Riyadh because the push and pull of war and normalcy seems to be everywhere now. The war in Gaza is all anyone is writing about. Deaths, hostages, displacement. There is no normal happening in the Gaza Strip.
Here in the states, no missile is likely to fall on your house. But the debris is everywhere. Your Jewish friends, wondering if you are a safe person. Your Palestinian neighbors, wondering if you know the difference between them and Hamas. The news, keeping you up at night. The internet, demanding you use your privilege, use your voice. And this is just the front-of-mind issue of the moment. Don’t forget about climate change, school shootings, and Ukraine.
Things are not normal, even here. But I still have to fold the laundry. I take my daughter to school. I clear out the client billing for work. I take my sweaters out of storage. Flatten boxes for recycling. Cook dinner.
There’s a Mari Andrew quote I like (which I may have shared before):
“I am washing my face before bed while a country is on fire. It feels dumb to wash my face and dumb not to. It has never been this way and it has always been this way. Someone has always clinked a cocktail glass in one hemisphere as someone loses a home in another, while someone falls in love in the same apartment building where someone grieves. The fact that suffering, mundanity, and beauty coincide is unbearable and remarkable.”
There are those who are in the throes of suffering and grief right now. There are those who are celebrating and falling in love. Who are in Italy on a long-deserved honeymoon, sending me photos of the most perfect pizza. Then there are those who are carrying on with normal while our thoughts and hearts feel pulled elsewhere.
The biggest violence I will encounter today comes from an almost-four-year-old going through a developmental leap. Elsewhere, children are dying, and I grumble about my daughter throwing a tantrum. Elsewhere, children are without shelter, and I force my daughter on a walk to look at Halloween decorations, just to get out of the house.
It all coincides, and we continue on. Some of us are feeling guilty because our minds aren’t on the crisis enough. Some of us are unable to get our minds off of it, unable, at all, to look away.
If you’re in the latter camp, a technique sometimes used in trauma therapy might help. “Pendulation” allows you to engage with the news and still take care of yourself. Therapist Julie Goldberg, LPC, suggests setting a timer for 20-30 minutes. During this time, allow yourself to read a news article, listen to a podcast, or have a hard conversation about the crisis.
When the timer goes off, set another 20-30 minute timer to do something that feels restorative and rejuvenating to your nervous system. Take a walk. Make some art. Have a snack. Scroll animal videos on the internet. Only when you feel grounded should you engage again. You can go through as many cycles as you need, or make pendulation part of your daily ritual to stay updated and connected.
It will never feel fair that we’re setting timers and taking “silly little walks” (as my sister Madeline calls them) while the world literally burns. But if we’re going to be able to function in our own corner of the universe, which is where we’re needed most, we must find a way to be present.
Today I picked up my daughter from preschool, and she and her classmates were all clutching printed pages with photos–a fall scavenger hunt.
“I found a pumpkin!” she squealed.
Her friend Eleanor met us on the sidewalk. “I saw a squirrel, but we didn’t see an apple!” she said.
An acorn. A pinecone. An orange leaf. The simplest markers of a change in the seasons. How joyful it made them to find each thing. How special and beautiful the world is, even with death everywhere.
It makes sense if you cannot hear the sounds of the birds over the warplanes right now. It means you’re human. And our humanity is the only thing we have. Write your political poems. Check on your friends and neighbors. Take good care of yourself.
Dot
News & Updates
We’re excited to announce that Kristopher Forren, MA will be joining our practice as an Associate Art Therapist under the supervision of Laura Miles, LPC, ATR-BC and Adele Stuckey, LPC, ATR-BC. Kristopher specializes in working with adults and older adults who are experiencing life transitions that bring feelings of depression, anxiety, or grief. Kristopher also works with LGBTQIA+ adults seeking to explore their identity and express their authentic self.
Reach out today to schedule your free 15-minute consultation with Kristopher.
Katie Gaynor, MA, ATR-P has openings available for new clients ages 6-adult looking for help processing grief, stress, anxiety and depression, trauma, or life transitions. Evening appointment times available.
Reach out today to schedule your free 15-minute consultation with Katie.
Adele Stuckey, LPC, ATR-BC has availability for new clients seeking therapy for couples work, LGBTQIA+ affirming therapy, perinatal mental health, anxiety, depression, or trauma.
Reach out today to schedule your free 15-minute consultation with Adele.
What is EDPP Supervision? The El Duende process painting technique, originated by Abbe Miller, is a one-canvas painting that uses many layers built up over the supervision experience to enhance clinical learning. We offer supervision for Virginia LPCs and us-based Art therapists in qualifying states.
Individual Supervision: Laura offers individual supervision in person at our office in old town Alexandria, VA, or virtually. $110/Session. If your state has its own art therapy license (KY, MD, NJ, NY, TN, TX, AZ, LA, NH), hours will not count towards your credential. Please make sure you confirm exact requirements with your state board.
In-Person Supervision Group: Our in-person group meets monthly in Old Town and is open to therapists accruing hours for the Registered Art Therapist (ATR) credential and the Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC) license in Virginia. $200/4 Hours.
Virtual Supervision Group: Our virtual group meets monthly and is open to US-based art therapists in qualifying states. $200/4 hours. If your state has its own art therapy license (KY, MD, NJ, TN, TX, AZ, LA, NH), hours will not count towards your credential. Please make sure you confirm exact requirements with your state board.
Get in touch! send us an email at info@alexandriaarttherapy.com or fill out our interest form.
Blog Posts
Autumn is a time of cool weather, holidays, and coziness. For some people, this is a welcome relief from the heat of summer. But for others, the fall marks the beginning of a difficult time of year—less sunlight, seasonal depression, or difficult memories. In our latest blog post, we’re sharing three art prompts to help you check in with yourself as you transition into fall.
Links We Like
Be careful not to lose your humanity.
Imposter syndrome happens most often in spaces where we care. (WaPo)
Science told me to go outside.
…where I’d like to listen to this fall walking meditation.
When do you feel most creative, and why is it at bedtime?
Want to feel younger and get stuff done? Start thinking of your life in semesters.
The best time to prepare for seasonal depression is now. (WaPo)
And some excellent advice on how to light the dark months.
Everything’s fine. Drone migrateur by Simon Bailly:
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I've been thinking about this a lot, and this is such good advice for self-care during this time.