Under Control
Dear Friends,
The weekend of my grandfather’s funeral was one of perfect weather, and every morning my family and I sat on the un-scenic patio of the SpringHill Marriott with our continental breakfast, squawking about our 60-degree good fortune.
“This may be the only cool weather I get until December,” my sister Lily said. She lives in Florida, gratefully on the other side of the state from where Ian would make landfall days later. “It’s weird, because fall is my favorite, but I’m also a little scared of it,” she said.
“I know what you mean,” I said.
“Bad stuff happens in the fall,” she said.
To our family, it does. Our grandfather’s death, and our father’s before it. Pregnancy losses. Medical scares.
And yet, it’s my favorite season, too. The crisp cool after the muggy heat. The sweaters aired out from a year in storage. Mosquitoes returning to hell where they belong.
When I returned home after the funeral, fall had certainly arrived in Virginia, but I didn’t yet get to enjoy it. My daughter had caught a nasty preschool cold and was engaged in a hunger strike, so I spent most of last week trying to coax her into consuming various flavors of Jell-O or Disney princess chicken noodle soup. And then, of course, when she recovered, Ian had migrated north, sparing us any major damage, but bringing days and days of rain.
Post-cold and mid-rain, I invited Elizabeth to bring her daughter over for a playdate, and was surprised with my child’s report on the season so far. Covered in chocolate croissant, she exclaimed to her friend, “ALLIE! It’s almost HALLOWEEN, and there are PUMPKINS EVERYWHERE!”
Perhaps it’s easy for fall to hold such conflicting feelings. It’s death season, it’s the rain, it’s the preschool germs. It’s also the pumpkins. The red leaves floating in a parking lot puddle. It’s baking with cloves and cinnamon. It’s coziness.
I’m noticing, this year, that I’m able to better hold space for the fall bad stuff while enjoying the good. When I think about why I’m able to feel balanced now, I figure it has to be because my anxiety is under control for the first time in a long time.
I’ve thought and written a lot about “control” over the years–namely, my struggle with knowing I don’t have it and should let the illusion of it go, yet wanting it desperately.
So it’s weird that we use the phrase “under control” when it comes to things like anxiety or depression. My anxiety is “under control” in the sense that it is managed and not running my life the way it used to. Yet so much of my experience in this new state of being is recognizing that nothing else is under my control at all, and that…that’s okay.
Under-control anxiety feels like acceptance of the duplicitous nature of fall. I accept the endless rain, the cooped-up feelings, the sinus congestion, the anniversaries of all of the Family Bad Stuff. I accept the pumpkin bread, too, and the way adding extra blankets to the bed feels deliciously appealing at the end of the day. I accept the canceled plans and the unexplained hard times and the unknown, and I also accept surprise, joy, and contentment.
I had always assumed that my anxiety made things in my life sharper, in a way. That anxiety probed the corners of my logical brain and kept my senses attuned to my surroundings. That without it, I’d feel dulled to the truth of the world. But in fact, it’s been the opposite. I feel closer, now, to the bad stuff, but better able to sit with it. And I also feel better able to stop midstream and identify good moments when they happen. My daughter, reciting me her first full picture book. An unexpected gap in the rain during a walk home. A text from an old friend. When my dad died, I thought a lot about his favorite writer, Kurt Vonnegut, and I always come back to his memorable quote–
“And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.’”
So, my friends, I wish you a safe and nice fall, in all its conflicting glory.
Take good care,
Dot
News & Updates
Adele Stuckey now has a few openings for new clients open to working with an out-of-network provider:
Individual Therapy for Perinatal Mental Health: If you feel like you “have it all,” but you can’t shake this nagging feeling that something is missing, are overwhelmed trying to manage your multiple roles (parent, spouse, partner, friend, co-worker), or are struggling to navigate fertility treatment as a queer person, get pregnant, be pregnant, or transition into parenthood, Adele can help.
LGBTQIA+ Affirming Therapy: Whether or not sexuality, gender identity, gender expression, or experiences in the queer community are the primary reasons for reaching out, this can be a safe space for you to show up as you.
Couples Therapy: Adele works with couples in all stages of relationship to reconnect, rebuild trust, and foster a bond that is often stronger than before therapy. If you and your partner are struggling with conflict, resentment, or parenting difficulties, couples therapy can help. Adele also blends her specialization in perinatal mental health to support couples through fertility, pregnancy, postpartum, and parenting experiences.
Matthew Brooks now has openings for adults looking for support around life transitions, anxiety, depression, and general wellness. Two openings now available for virtual sessions on Wednesday mornings (DC and VA residents only).
Have questions or want to get started? Email us at info@alexandriaarttherapy.com.
Are you a US-based art therapist looking to acquire ATR supervision hours? Alexandria Art Therapy is now forming a VIRTUAL clinical supervision group. Join Laura Miles, LPC, ATR-BC, ATCS for a virtual supervision group grounded in the El Duende process painting technique. El Duende, originated by Abbe Miller, is a one-canvas painting that uses many layers built up over the supervision experience to enhance clinical learning. Want to know more? Reply to this newsletter, or email us at info@alexandriaarttherapy.com.
Blog Posts
From the archives: Adele Stuckey shares more about how to know if art therapy is right for you. Spoiler: art therapy is for everyone. But if you have a hard time talking about your feelings or have experienced trauma in your life, art therapy can be even more useful.
Links We Like
Can music improve mental health?
Nursing a vulnerability hangover. (NYT)
Are you participating in Inktober?
Using field sketching to slow down. (NYT)
Made me laugh–BE IN THE MOMENT.
L’shana tova and living in the “and.”
“I'm just doing my work, working with what I have, in my place that I love.” (If you’re unfamiliar with Julie Blackmon’s photos, see more here.)
I used to listen to pink noise to drown out the sound of coffee shop music while I wrote papers in college. Wish I had known about brown noise then–I find it even more calming. Which “color” appeals to you? (NYT)
I’m interested in trying these four “emotional workouts.” (WaPo)
Early fall mood, Delta 1998 by Wayne Thiebaud:
Hi - I love your writing! Want to get together and support each other’s audiences? I think we’re writing to a similar crowd... Hannah