The Year of Paradox: Keep Your Eyes on the Horizon

“I have heard trauma being described as anything that happens too fast, too soon, and/or too much such that those who endure it are not prepared to manage and integrate it effectively. I would add that another aspect of trauma is when we cannot hold the complicated and contradictory nature of these ‘TOO anything’ experiences. ”

It was early Thanksgiving morning. I woke up with a feeling of dis-ease.  My body lay warm under bedding but the air around my face felt chilled, more by an eerie presence than the cool autumn air of our bedroom.  I was on my back and paralyzed; legs pressed together as if attempting to merge my two human legs into a mermaid’s tail and arms pinned – one bent over my chest and the other pulling tight at my side. The only muscles that seemed to obey my mind’s command were the twelve that control the movement of my eyes.  I peered to my right.

My fiancée laid gently breathing with his back inches from my unmovable figure. His presence was familiar but my eyes seemed to catch a lesser known form which almost hovered over his blanketed silhouette. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it felt human. My fears lay less about sensing this supernatural entity (as it felt benevolent rather than threatening) and more in the novelty of my presentation of symptoms.

I immediately began to diagnose and rationalize what was happening. “Mild visual hallucinations co-occurring during episodic sleep paralysis,” I thought. “Just wait a few moments…this will pass...average duration of this phenomenon is under 3 minutes.” I even justified the occurrence to myself: “What a year this has been, of course, I’d experience something like this. I bet there is a strong correlation between stress and sleep paralysis.”

Soon enough the hovering figure and my paralysis dissipated. First to reappear was the control of my toes. And as soon as I could utilize my arms and trunk, I turned to my bedside table and picked up my phone: 2:22am it read. “Odd” I thought and I noted this would be a exciting story to share with my partner, as it is customary for us to share our previous night’s dreams with one another in the morning.

But before our alarm could do its work, I woke up to my partner wide-awake and propped up on his elbow. It was still dark out. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It happened,” he replied. “Grandpa’s gone. I know it”.

No more than 10 seconds later his phone rang. It was his mom. She told us Grandpa Joe (her father) had passed away early that morning.

“We are the paradox – continual growth amid the destruction. ”

After spending a few minutes of sharing grief and memories with his mom, he hung up the phone and we held one another. While this wasn’t a surprise (Grandpa had been diagnosed with Covid-19 two weeks ago and at 95-years-old statistics were against him), as with any passing, the finality hit hard and was compounded by the difficult reality of this pandemic: his family could not be physically with him as he passed.

I have heard trauma being described as anything that happens too fast, too soon, and/or too much such that those who endure it are not prepared to manage and integrate it effectively. I would add that another aspect of trauma is when we cannot hold the complicated and contradictory nature of these ‘TOO anything’ experiences. When terrible things happen, no matter how terrible things get, paradoxically there are simultaneously positive elements to come across… if we are able to hold the complexity of the whole situation. In other words, the ‘TOO anything’ of the trauma response makes it harder to see the ‘and’ in any situations – the good with the bad, the beautiful with the ugly, and joy with the pain.

And this year has been a consummate paradox: never-ending and passing in the blink of an eye; interpersonally isolative yet at times collectively connecting; communally traumatic while somehow showcasing our basic resiliency and unfettered hope. Though this pandemic may feel unprecedented (and in ways it is), this experience has made me reflect and imagine how traumatic events actually scaffold human existence throughout history.

Given the unknown intricacy of our natural universe, occurrences that are ‘TOO anything’ are experienced all the time on an individual and societal level. Natural disasters, war and persecution, death and destruction – one may say our joys are the exception to an overall experience of suffering.  And yet, despite being continually traumatized, we (as a whole) carry on and continue to grow/mature/evolve. We are the paradox – continual growth amid the destruction.

This year has brought us a lot of ‘TOO anything’ experiences. After losing my partner’s grandfather on Thanksgiving morning, we then met with my family for a socially-distanced backyard Thanksgiving lunch where I blew my 92-year-old grandmother a kiss from more than 6 feet away. The pain of losing one family member was punctuated by the gratitude of being with family and that joy of being together for Thanksgiving was marred with the physical constraints of social distancing. I sat in the paradox of it, me and my partner at our own fold-out table situated more than 6 feet from the fold-outs of other households. My feelings vacillated minute by minute – the muck and the magic; the pleasure and the pain; the love and the loss.

I recall my feelings at the start of 2020. There was so much hope for the future. Cue 11 months later: a contentious election, a societal reckoning of social injustice, and resurgence of Covid-19 cases, which now hits (for me) even closer to home. I am overwhelmed and disheartened. Some days I struggle to show up for myself… let alone my family, friends, and clients. And yet I’ll continue to hold the paradox of this experience and try to remember that good things can happen while terrible things are underway. As Grandpa Joe was known for saying: “Keep your eyes on the horizon.” I’ll keep looking up and out, taking it all in, and letting each day provide whatever experience is meant for me to go through. I hope that in the midst of your overwhelm, you can allow for the paradox and keep your eyes on the horizon.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Michelle Harwell, LMFT. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

Home: Ducky

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

“This sculpted mass of cotton and fluff became a soft and portable vessel where my sense of home resided. He allowed me to take that sense of security with me wherever I went.”

His name is Ducky. Not exactly the most creative choice, but it’s a fitting name considering he is an eight-inch tall plush-animal duck. His simple name aside, Ducky was my first best friend.

Now, many mature adults may think Ducky is just the sum of his parts: Cloth and stuffing. But if you were to see how I carried him with me as a child, I assure you, for a fleeting moment, you too would understand how real he is (*cough cough… I mean, was). This sculpted mass of cotton and fluff became a soft and portable vessel where my sense of home resided. He allowed me to take that sense of security with me wherever I went.

As it turns out, I am not alone in this attachment phenomenon. Many other children develop similar attachments to inanimate objects. In fact, by eighteen months of age, 60% of children form some kind of attachment with a soft object (e.g., plush or blanket). Researchers theorize inanimate object attachment allows a child a secondary secure-base to explore; in other words, the child projects their felt sense of security with a primary caregiver(s) onto another non-living entity and thus utilizes the secondary security object to increase their range/capacity to explore and learn from their surroundings.

Ducky definitely facilitated many of my exploration efforts. There were many times when I accompanied my mother (a physician) to the hospital when she made rounds. A hospital can be a scary and overwhelming place for anyone (let alone a young child) and I always brought Ducky with me to help pass the time. While I was normally shepherded to the doctor’s lounge to play on the wheel chairs and feast on what seemed like a neverending supply of doughnuts…. on one particular occasion, I was left at the nurses’ station. With Ducky on my lap, I patiently waited. I counted the number of times red lights flashed over patient doors and I tried to psychically incept a page for Dr. Evans over the hospital intercom.

What seemed like hours passed. And just as all sense of novelty began to wane… a jar caught my eye. Within the jar, there were what appeared to be small-ish brown boogers wiggling through the water. My curiosity overwhelmed me. Manipulating Ducky’s stubby arms around the lid, I proceeded to open the jar to investigate its contents further. As it turns out, those “boogers” were medical leeches and it was not until I had placed half a dozen onto myself, Ducky, and the desk where I sat waiting, that a nurse discovered my innocent transgression and released one of the most awesome screams I had ever heard to date.

While it’s arguable if the leech fiasco enhanced my overall understanding of the world around me, it did give me an experience that I will never forget. If I hadn’t brought Ducky with me that day, I probably would have never opened that jar. In fact, if I did not have Ducky, I probably would not have done a lot of things.  I probably would have been more shy on my first day of pre-school; I might have taken longer to learn how to ride a bike; or maybe I would not have made my bed every morning so Ducky could have a neat place to sit as he waited for me to get back from school. Having a separate entity like Ducky (to both rely on and provide for) enabled me to venture out in my environment where I was tasked with maturing intellectually and emotionally.

“Once the object that housed my burgeoning (but yet to be self-avowed) curiosity, Ducky now lives as a symbol of home – that intangible place I can come back to when the world around me gets scary. ”

Looking at Ducky now, he is tattered by love. Long gone is the bright yellow fluff that lined his body; now just grey porous cloth, worn ragged by the thousands of nights I held him as I went to sleep. His right foot is only a crudely stitched stub – a battle wound from the great dog-chewing incident of 1991. His beady plastic eyes, once lost in the yellow down of his face, now bulge from his threadbare fabric as if to see and know me more clearly than ever. Once the object that housed my burgeoning (but yet to be self-avowed) curiosity, Ducky now lives as a symbol of home – that intangible place I can come back to when the world around me gets scary. He reminds me I am brave, and competent, and am safe enough to remain curious because there is always some kind of home to come back to... even if that home is inside yourself … or in my case, a duck. 

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HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

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A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Saralyn Masselink, LCSW . Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

The Freedom of Movement

I fancy myself an amateur athlete. I love to move, to challenge myself, to constantly find facility over a physical skill. But there are modes of movement that I’ve shied away from because of a self-defeating belief that I cannot (or I am not made to) move that way.

“‘You’re in over your head. You could leave right now. Nobody would know,’ I heard my inner critic say.”

These beliefs have influenced specific movement patterns in my body – they are often linear and (sometimes) rigid. I run, lift weights, and move through yoga classes where poses are performed within the confines of a 2x6 foot mat. Over time I have noticed that my propensity towards these kinds movements parallels how I tend to orient within the world: I can be rigid in my thinking; I often follow rules with little question; if not attentive, I can slide into being dogmatic– focusing on the expectation or goal, forgoing my intuition, and lead myself into danger, injury, or overload.

Knowing that I have a tendency toward being overly controlled (in mind and body), I began to wonder about ways I could still enjoy the endorphins released by exercise while moving outside my proverbial fitness box. This wondering led me back to my self-effacing beliefs, to all the ways I’ve thought I was not made move: flowing, fluid, emotionally evocative, somatically dynamic.

I have always envied dancers. These artists (using their bodies as an instrument) tell stories in ways that are nothing short of miraculous. The control and skill needed to move so freely is a paradox that intrigues me. And my awe of them has always kept me an observer. My inner critic has scared me from engaging with such freedom in my own movement.

As I mused on this month’s theme of freedom here at MHT, I thought about how my inner-critic keeps me a prisoner of my own false beliefs. I know my critic functions (albeit misguidedly) to keep me safe. By assuming I am terrible at something, I don’t try. And if I don’t try, there’s no chance of failure. The critic helps me stay “good” and safe within my pre-conceived/contrived limits. 

But what if being good isn’t the point? I know that many of my athletic pursuits are motivated by wanting to gain speed, power, strength – some measurable unit of improvement. But there I go again thinking linearly. What if mastering movement isn’t the point? What if simply being movement is the point?

This reframe in intention brought me to The Sweat Spot - an unassuming dance studio tucked between a hip vintage clothing store and vinyl record shop (it’s in Silver Lake… so go figure). My heart was pounding. I hadn’t been in a dance studio since the screeching failure that was pre-k ballet lessons. I didn’t feel like I belonged here.

I’d paid and pre-registered for a class called Gaga People. If it was a Lady Gaga themed drag queen party, I actually might have been more comfortable.

Gaga People, developed by renowned dancer and choreographer Ohad Naharin, is described as a ‘movement language’. The class facilitates space for people to tune into a deep awareness with their present physical sensations and invites exploration and interpretation of those sensations with expressive movement (i.e.- movement language). The point of the class is to be the movement, to embody the sensations that are experienced.

I had no idea what to expect. I filled out a waiver and proceeded to a small staging area with benches, cubbies, and an in-wall window into the studio space. The preceding class was finishing up. I watched in awe as dozens of dancers performed some kind of primal modern choreography. The staging area began to fill with other Gaga attendees; they seemed un-phased by the talent on display. 

“You’re in over your head. You could leave right now. Nobody would know”, I heard my inner critic say.

“But what if being good isn’t the point? ”

Before I knew it, flushed and exuberant faces began cascading from the studio into the staging area. I pressed myself up against the closest wall and waited for my turn to walk into the studio – feeling like a cow being corralled toward the slaughterhouse.

There were more than two dozen of us - various ages, genders, ethnicities, & bodies all taking up a small portion of dance floor real estate. The instructor came to the center of the room and invited us to look at our hands and begin to move our fingers. 

“Imagine that each of your knuckles could move in all directions…” she said, “…like a ball & socket joint. Imagine and try to find as much movement in the joints of your fingers as you can find in your hips or shoulders.”

I knew (thanks to high school biology) that it was physically impossible but I was intrigued by what it felt like to try anyway. My mind was fully present in the sensations and efforts of my fingers, palms, and forearms. I had a fleeting feeling of expansiveness. I was trying to move in a way that I logically knew was impossible… and yet I acted into it anyway and felt more alive due to my effort. In that moment, I understood and embodied freedom.

Faulkner once wrote:  “We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.” That Gaga class let me practice freedom. It helped me experience how I imprison myself, restrict my own freedoms, and how I can decide to let them go whenever I choose. 

For anyone interested in finding some embodied freedom, The Sweat Spot offers their Gaga People class Thursdays at 1pm. They’re located at 3327 Sunset Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90026.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Saralyn Masselink, LCSW . Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

On Failing and Making Awesome Happen: An Interview with Jessica Rosen, Owner of One Down Dog

Jessica Rosen

Lauren Ziel: Thank you, first and foremost, for agreeing to chit-chat. I think Michelle and I had you in mind because it’s the new year — beginning of 2019 — and really thick with rebirth, change, growth and resolutions. Even though that’s exciting; such a positive spin - I think sometimes we can overlook the hard, non-linear path towards success and how usually that road is paved in failure. With Michelle and I both knowing you and your success in growing your business One Down Dog - from an outsider perspective, you’re f*&#in rocking it. And yet, we also know that you have worked your ass off and there’s been struggle and failure in the process— and you’ve been so open and honest with that. So, we thought you’d be a really good person to comment on what it means to fail and why that can be a great and integral thing in the process of becoming successful. So, again, thank you. 

Jessica Rosen: Thank you!

LZ: So, we wanted to know in the context of your business [running multiple yoga studios] and in how you’ve grown over the years, what would you say is your greatest failure?

“I’m trying to really show up for myself.”

JR: Oh man, there are so many little ones. It’s hard to think of the biggest one. Okay…so, I think my biggest failure…maybe failure isn’t the right word…but we’ll go this one: it has been in my own ability to get shit done. Which, I know like you said, from the outside everything looks amazing, but I have a tendency to put things off, to get really overwhelmed and bogged down by the details and by the minutiae, by my email inbox, and in little things that take away from my bigger picture. I have this tendency to spin in circles and then at the end of every single day say, “I didn’t get anything done today.” 

What I’ve realized in the last few month is…I set myself up for failure in that way. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. I say “I can’t get anything done.” And, therefore, I don’t get anything done. So, I’m trying to really show up for myself. I don’t really know if failure is the right word for all of this. But it feels like a failure when I go home and feel that sense of self-defeat. I’m shifting that, and I’m working hard on chunking things and giving myself projects. Because that feels more successful when I take things in chunks instead of trying to do everything all at one time. 

LZ: Yeah, we might want to play with that — can we reframe failure with a different word? But what I’m hearing in your process is that you’re coming home at the end of the day with a certain sense. And because of that sense and wanting to change, then you’re pivoting and finding a different way to attack something. It’s almost like you have to learn from the failure…you have to get to the point of feeling this certain way in order for that to be the impetus for you to innovate, pivot, change direction, scrap, go, etc. I think that is maybe what we’re getting at — the failures are these small or big chances…opportunities…to really hone in on what’s important and what will lead to either a growth or a success or something of that nature. How do you think failure has been a part of One Down Dog’s success?

JR: It’s a big part. It’s a constant learning of “Okay, I tried that. Okay, that didn’t work. Let’s try this..” In figuring out our hiring process. In our on-boarding process. In negotiating lease agreements. With our schedule. Trying a class and then it not doing well. And then having to figure out the right time for it or the right teacher with the right class type. It’s a constant evolution. Without those moments of things not working or “failing,” there’s no way we could have gotten to where we’re at today. I started in a temporary shared space and somehow now there’s three locations with two yoga rooms in each of them. That whole process was a series of throwing a ton of spaghetti at a wall and seeing what sticks. 

LZ: You’re doing the Make Awesome Happen workshop. Is failure woven into that? 

JR: Yes, absolutely. The biggest thing that I’ve noticed in my own life and I’ve seen it in others’ lives that stops us from making awesome happen, whether that’s making our biggest, wildest dreams come true or with the smaller stuff like personal interactions in our head….a big piece is our own negative self-talk, self-doubt, and our fear of failing. The fear of doing it wrong. The fear of it not working. And then like I mentioned before…this self-fulfilling prophecy where I’ll think that something isn’t gonna work or that I’m not getting shit done…whatever the case….and then it will be. Because I set myself up for it. That’s a big part of what I talk about in the workshop. How do we overcome those fears of failure? How can we reframe what failure is in our lives? Because ultimately, as corny as it is, failures are lessons and opportunities for growth. Every time something doesn’t work, it’s guiding us in the direction of what’s going to…if there’s a willingness to look at it and allow space for it. It can very easily turn into “Well, that didn’t work and that proves my point. Therefore, it’s never gonna happen.” Or it can be, “Well, that didn’t work but I learned something so wonderful from that experience and now there’s potential for something else” - which is amazing.

“Without those moments of things not working or “failing,” there’s no way we could have gotten to where we’re at today.”

LZ: Yeah. So, rather than foreclosing and shutting down. It’s the door closing and the window opening metaphor. 

JR: Yes, exactly.

 LZ: You’re the OG bosslady. One person can facilitate a culture in an organization of celebrating failure or in the very least saying that it’s okay. How do you think you have fostered that at One Down Dog?

JR: My initial response is that I could a lot better in fostering that. As I mentioned earlier, I have a tendency to be really hard on myself, and I’m certain that bleeds into the rest of my company to a certain extent. There’s a level of ask for forgiveness, not permission. And an understanding that just because something didn’t work the way we expected that doesn’t mean we throw it out. We’ve had events where we thought “Oh, this is going to be amazing and we’re going to have so many people show up” and then there will be two people who attend. I don’t want to just throw it away because there’s a reason why we thought it was going to be amazing. So, how do we do a sort of SWOT analysis? For those that don’t know, SWOT stands for strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and…what does the “T” stand for?** (We’ll find out…). Anyway, so, we’ll look at: where are the opportunities in this experience? How can we reframe, re-shift, regroup, and keep the momentum going? Because a good idea is something to cherish and hold onto. It’s like clay. You gotta re-work it a little.

LZ: A good idea in one scenario won’t be the greatest idea in the next. Yeah, and you gotta mold and shape it as it goes. I like that metaphor. That’s a nice metaphor as we close. Thank you, Jess. I really appreciate your time. Yes, we will figure out the “T”!

JR: Yeah, I’m sure I’ll remember as soon as we hang up. 

LZ: Thank you very much. 

JS: Thank you!

**Note: The “T” in SWOT Analysis stands for “Threats.”

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Jessica Rosen is a yoga teacher and an entrepreneur. She is the owner of One Down Dog (ODD), a community of three yoga studios in Northeast Los Angeles. Check out this post on ODD’s Blog for more about this awesome woman.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

Women are NOT Property

Photo by Even Keel Imagery - Miriam Brummel

I’ve recently found myself privy to one too many conversations where women are spoken of in ways that objectify, minimize, and commercialize their womanhood. Sometimes it’s subtle. And other times I’m left dumbfounded at the blatant and aggressive misogyny that motivates such rhetoric and/or behavior.

I know womanhood and gender politics can be complicated, but let’s make one thing simple and clear: WE ARE NOT PROPERTY.

Being a woman means having pride and acceptance for who you are (even if that changes day to day). For so long I wanted to fit into what society told me was feminine. I wanted to be slender, beautiful, giving, and like-able. These acculturated gender stereotypes dominated my conception and expression of self.

After much work and self-exploration, I’ve redefined MY understanding of femininity – it means I have physical and mental fortitude. It means my body can be athletic and strong. I can shave my legs because I love the way my calves feel sans hair and not because some commercial tells me to. It demands that I admit my vulnerabilities and/or shortcomings without letting them define me. It means showing up for myself and my fellow women by accepting others exactly where they are in their journey.

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HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN DRESSEMBER WITH US:

Give! Visit our Dressember page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of December. We will be documenting our fierce fashion choices but our deepest intention is to empower and educate.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Dressember fundraising campaign page.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

"A Call to Love": A Conversation about Our Planet with Dr. Gabrielle Taylor

Lauren Ziel, ASW, talks to Dr. Gabrielle Taylor, Clinical Director at Michelle Harwell Therapy, about growing up immersed in the beauty of the natural world, making small efforts to effect change, and the ethical demands of being a mental health professional.

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Lauren Ziel: Hi Gabrielle!

Gabrielle Taylor: Hello Lauren!

LZ: I’m really excited to talk to you because ever since we’ve had you as Clinical Director here at MHT, you bubble over with enthusiasm whenever we talk about conservation efforts and the state of our environment. With November being our month of focusing on the intersections between nature and our health as people, we just thought that you’d have so much to say on the topic. We’re excited to pick your brain about it. So, my first general question is: How has your connection to nature shaped you, from childhood to now? And has it informed you both personally and professionally?

GT: How my relationship with nature has informed me? That’s such a great question, actually. 

Like I have shared…I grew up outside. I grew up in Hawaii - pretty much born and raised there. So, that greatly shaped what my external life looked like. And I think that it greatly shaped my interior life. The landscape, the ocean, the mountains, the greenery….it really affected and infected my insides. Essentially, to be able to identity what growth looks like and what life looks like. I mean, I don’t want to be too corny…but it’s beautiful. Tropical beauty (laughs). So, how does it shape me? Well, I reference or resource my internal life to do the work I do and also to be in my personal relationships. There are landscapes there of width and depth that I can resource and can go into my self in order to go to places with others. I don’t know if that’s a corny answer, but I think it’s true.

LZ: Yeah, what you said about being able to see what growth looks like…yeah, nature being a metaphor. I love your use of language there. It makes me think about change that is both human and that you see in our environment and our external world - not the same, but mirrored and parallel…that’s a cool visual that you speak to.

GT: Our humanness is so interconnected to the natural world, right?

LZ: That’s a great segue…how do you view our humanness, our nature, and how it intersects with the world around us? How does being in and of nature benefit us and how being out of it can actually be a huge barrier to health?

GT: I think that our estrangement is a delusion. Our estrangement from nature is a delusion because we as living beings are part of the living world….that’s where we are headed given our mortality. There’s just an inextricable nature. And yet, with the Industrial Revolution, and with the concrete all around us, it greatly shapes us, and then we begin thinking concretely. We lose the spaciousness that we can access when we’re in nature, when we are walking through the woods, when we’re looking out at the horizon when we stand at the beach - that kind of space where we can get out into nature really helps us connect to ourselves in such a profound way.

LZ: I was thinking how ancient civilizations [or indigenous cultures] did have more of that connection….such as the buffalo eats the grass and we eat the buffalo…that there is this cascade that you can always bring it back to a source, which is this planet. Our place on it is only one spot in this big massive web. 

GT: A massive universe.

“To me, care for the planet, being a good steward of the planet, is an extension of a mental health professional’s life....we’re called to be loving, compassionate, supportive people to others and to help people walk through the suffering that comes with being human, for whatever reason that suffering comes. The way that we are with people as analysts or therapists is to me the way we need to be with people in our lives, with the planet, with animals. To me, it’s a call to love. Caring for the environment and being concerned about climate change is not a political discussion...you’re in a relationship with the planet and what does it mean to care for it?”

LZ: So, we are therapists and you’re an analyst. You spend so much time inside, face to face with human suffering and internal struggle…How do you get your “outdoor fix” — how do you with commune nature when you’re not outside?

GT: Yeah, that’s a good question. Or yeah, even when I am inside. I think you can relate to this, Lauren…a lot of times when I have a break, I do a plank pose. Or do a headstand. Or do some core work. So, the snippets of movement where I can keep my body moving. And not fall into the abyss of sedentary life, which really leaves me in a lot of pain. Sitting decreases our lifespan 7 or 8 years or something? In a very literal way, l I keep myself moving. My art and the plants in my office can remind me of the importance of sunlight, the planet, and nature and what kind of emotional health that brings. But beyond that, and outside of the office…I think we all do this—we crave beautiful places. We crave a walk at sunrise. We crave a walk at sunset. We’ve got dogs; taking the dogs for a walk. In terms of vacation, I certainly want to go where earth is more accessible - essentially what is inspiring in a way that brings me back to myself in a certain way and reminds me of what’s important. Sometimes I can get lost in all the freeway, street driving, buildings that surround me in my day in and day commute and walk. I think going to beautiful places on the planet is so important to keep myself centered on what matters. All of this to me is about relationship. We as human beings are created for relationship with all living things. And I think that includes the planet, that includes animals. To stay related with each other and with the earth…it helps me feel more human.

LZ: You talk about that relational piece….yeah, even when you are “stuck” in the office, you can use that and find a relationship with yourself through movement. And then when you go out in these [natural] spaces, it’s a relationship that is just bigger than you. The more that we can touch into it, the more we realize how important it is. Given the state of the world, it evokes a sense of necessity to do something to maintain this ability to have something to connect to, have these beautiful spaces to visit, and to have a healthy body. The way things are going and have been going…it’s fraught, it’s scary….we may not have these extensions of self and relationships with the natural world because it’s not going to be here. 

How do you take the idea…you know, we work with people and we work with relationships…that is a love and a passion…what is our responsibility as therapists to maintain these connections outside of our therapy rooms and sessions? How can we as a community of therapists address the climate change crisis? You are both - an analyst and an advocate. How do you marry the two and do what you do and make an impact?

GT: For me, it all goes hand in hand. It’s all connected. I think if I were to distill it down…it would distill down to being loving, being compassionate. If you see someone throw trash outside out their window or just throw it on the street, it’s such a hostile, angry act. To me, that’s how it lands on me. You know, you much be upset inside to do that. To me, care for the planet, being a good steward of the planet, is an extension of a mental health professional’s life. Because we’re called…I don’t use this language to be overly religious, but we’re called to be loving, compassionate, supportive people to others and to help people walk through the suffering that comes with being human, for whatever reason that suffering comes. The way that we are with people as analysts or therapists is to me the way we need to be with people in our lives, with the planet, with animals. To me, it’s a call to love. Caring for the environment and being concerned about climate change is not a political discussion. Well, actually you’re in a relationship with the planet and what does it mean to care for it? And to leave it in as good as shape as you can, given that you get to use for a time? It’s just an extension of what we get to do in the consulting room. I don’t know if it’s a chicken and egg situation. It started outside for me as a little girl, and maybe that led me to the consultation room to participate in people’s and get to engage in the creativity of what therapy is and the growth process. 

Again, I don’t want to be heavily moralistic, but along the lines of the analyst Donna Orange who writes about climate change and the ethical mandate that we have as mental health professionals….I just think we need to be concerned with all of life and think about how we take care of ourselves, and that includes the environment in which we live. They are inseparable for me. 

LZ: This is very specific. Since you’ve been at MHT, we’ve been making very practical changes to make this a more green small business. What are your favorite way to show your love and appreciation [of the environment] that you make sure to practice?

GT: The environment and the concerns around the planet…and the amount of plastic and trash that we are producing as our human population continues to grow is completely overwhelming. You can just feel completely overwhelmed and paralyzed. If you read that National Geographic issue that came out this summer, you could easily just fall into a puddle of despair. So, I’m of the mindset, like what we do in therapy…doing things one by one. I think every little small thing we do is of importance. For example, at MHT, when we had the move to put in a towel instead of paper towels because paper towels have already been recycled down and they are no longer recyclable. So, we made this move. I love that we did that. Every time I go in there, I’m reminded of the environment…and how we aren’t generating more trash with paper towels. I think it has a ripple effect. We use glasses in the waiting room instead of disposable cups. We recycle…we have been trying to use the recyclable trash bags. All of those things are so great. There’s so many opportunities to buy something that you can throw away or recycle. I tend to carry those things that are recyclable along with me throughout the day. If I don’t see a recycling bin, then I’ll just take the bottle home with me until I can get to the appropriate bin. It’s not that big of an effort to make my small contribution. In my private office, I try to put as much as possible in my big recyclable bag and try to throw very little in my trash bin. It’s crazy not to do these things that take only a little bit of effort.

LZ: Yeah, with all that we use…everything we get is from our environment. So, what is holding a glass bottle in your purse for 8 hours?

GT: I have imagery that helps me and reminds me. I saw that picture of the sea turtle that ended up with a plastic straw in its nose. I just have that imagery come to mind and feel the conflict inside when I see a plastic straw. I think it’s a good conflict to feel. So long as we use the conflict instead of giving into it or falling into despair — it’s motivating.

LZ: Yeah, having that imagery…once you see it, you can use it as motivating factor. You can’t put your head in the sand and pretend that it doesn’t exist anymore..…After we had our open house, we had a lot of food waste, which you know we had a lot of guests, there was a lot of food…I want to get a compost..an MHT compost is next!

GT: I brought some of the extra food home and I put in straight in my yard waste, in my compost. I couldn’t tolerate it going anywhere else. I also think with MHT going green.…as more and more businesses do that, it reminds other people of what we need to do together as a community of human beings. It’s like “Hey, let’s all do it together.” We don’t have to do it alone. We remind our patients who come in, “Okay yeah, I’ll think twice about asking for that plastic straw.” Or thinking about staring their own small contributions. It’s so important that MHT is doing it, to me.

LZ: Yeah, there’s that lean in approach….you’re doing little things. You don’t have to completely re-work it, go vegan, recycle everything, but that doing little things, at least in the beginning can elicit more and more change. I like that idea of not placing some high bar up; living in the constraints that you’re in but beginning to modify them. 

GT: Right, well said. 

LZ: Thank you so much. I’m really excited that you’re here and being an outspoken pillar to keep us all accountable. Talk about a ripple effect! It quickly took root in our practice and now we’re going green. It would have happened eventually but you made it happen a little faster.

GT: Well, I don’t know if I made it happen (laughs). I might have given voice to something and then everyone else was bringing things in and making the changes. The collaboration was certainly already there. The action has been taken.

Yes, thank you for having me!

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Dr. Gabrielle Taylor serves as Clinical Director at Michelle Harwell Therapy and is a licensed Psychologist and Psychoanalyst in private practice in Pasadena, CA. She is also a member at New Center for Psychoanalysis where she serves on the Admissions Committee. She is Core Faculty at Wright Institute Los Angeles whee she supervises and teaches – her class The Poetry of Psychoanalysis: Contemporary Psychoanalytic Theory is favored among many of the students.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

When *FOE leads to FOMO: A Millennial’s *Fear Of Engaging in Real Life

I am part of a generation that has grown up in-tandem with the emergence of social technology — the dial-up modem tone (along with No Doubt’s ‘Tragic Kingdom’) was the soundtrack to my pre-teen years, my Motorola razor flip phone was a kind of social status symbol in middle school, and my freshman year of college was punctuated by deciding between cementing my online identity on either MySpace or Facebook.

But putting my farcical tone aside, it is sobering to look at my developmental timeline paralleling the proliferation of technology. How has this impacted my trajectory and that of my peers’? In what ways has it helped and/or hindered our humanness? 

On a positive note, technology has given me a way to grow my knowledge and expose me to things I may otherwise remain naïve to. But with all that real (and valuable) information to absorb, I admit a moderate pre-occupation with the curated perfection friends/followers/influencers present regarding their latest exotic adventure or gastronomical endeavor.

While this in and of itself does not dismay me outright (except perhaps the amount of time I spend scrolling aimlessly), it is more that I often times find myself preferring to consume the stories and public content of my online friends to having actual in-person interactions with them. With an internal gasp, my anxious self-criticizing voice pipes in: “Are you some kind of voyeuristic sociopath”?

“Turkle further cautions that not only are ‘… we not making the time because we feel we don’t have the time, [as a result] we’re losing the skills that we get from talking to each other face-to-face: skills of negotiation, reading each other’s emotion, having to face the complexity of confrontation, dealing with complex emotion, and [navigating] confrontation.’”

Thankfully, author and researcher Sherry Turkle, who has been studying the effects of digital culture on young people for over 15 years, can provide some sobering information to quash my paranoia. She reports social media is contributing to people choosing simplified communication over unpredictable yet meaningful conversation.

In her work, she asks my fellow millennials why real conversation is something to avoid. A common response is: “You can't control what you're going to say, and you don't know how long it's going to take or where it could go.” She goes on to identify that “…this is the kind of thing that people feel they don't have time for in their incredibly busy [and stressed] lives…and it's what people are getting used to - not wanting to make space for [conversation] emotionally.”

Turkle further cautions that not only are “… we not making the time because we feel we don't have the time, [as a result] we’re losing the skills that we get from talking to each other face-to-face: skills of negotiation, reading each other's emotion, having to face the complexity of confrontation, dealing with complex emotion, and [navigating] confrontation.”

Her words ring so true for me. It’s as though my time interfacing with well… anything except a real face…has left me little chance to develop the competency to negotiate the rich complexity of interpersonal interaction. Rather, my mind is too busy playing catch-up to the tsunami of content available at my fingertips. In this regard, I am the modern every (wo)man; as convenient access to content increases, consumption of it increases; and in turn, the less time/energy is available to do things that are less convenient (say have a face-to-face conversation) and, therefore, we do it less.

My glowing screen has become the proverbial Great Wall of content – it is hard to escape its reach and it provides an illusion of safety from the uncertainty of unscripted dialogue with others. But it’s lonely behind the wall - a space paradoxically full yet empty. Perhaps I have to face my fears of engaging in an unpredictable world full of unpredictable humans. I guess my Fear of Engaging (FOE) is what is giving me real FOMO.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

Belly Laughs & Blazing Saddles: An Interview with Andi Porter, Comedy Producer

Lauren Ziel: When did you first know what funny/comedy/humor was and that you had a knack for it?

Andi Porter: My family always thought I was funny. Everyone in my family is hilarious and I just thought every family nucleus was like that until I'd go to my friends' homes and realize how boring and solemn their family dinners were. Why wasn't anyone else trying to burp as loud as they can to get everyone to belly laugh or quoting Mel Brooks movies to get someone to shoot milk out of their nose? Turns out the Mel Brooks quotes didn't go over well in the 2nd grade cafeteria. Apparently not everyone's parents let them watch Blazing Saddles at 7. Losers.

When I was little I was incredibly shy and introverted around others. That was until we moved into the city and I changed schools in the 7th grade. It was an opportunity to be myself and just get weird with it. So I did! It seemed to work out and my friends and their friends thought I was funny. I realized that was my open door into being the wildly extroverted person I am now and I sprinted through that door and never looked back. 

As one of our therapists Monica Green writes in a recent MHT blog post: "[Humor's] fundamental value lies in the way it allows us to approach truth less directly, to come at it sideways but to come at it nonetheless. It’s a way of coping with the things that…need coping with.” How has humor served you at getting at your greater truth?

Humor has allowed me to talk about the way I feel and view the world in a way that's unique to my voice and perspective without it seeming like I'm an informed professional who's psychoanalyzing things. Being raised Catholic taught me to not be an emotional person, so I rarely cry or like to talk about anything serious, but humor allows me to talk about those topics more willingly and freely with my own voice that I ever would have before. And the best part is it's MY voice. It took me a long time to find it, and I realize a lot of people never find theirs so I'm lucky to have it. 

“Humor has allowed me to talk about the way I feel and view the world in a way that’s unique to my voice and perspective.”

How/or do you use humor to cope with hardships in your life?

It's the only way I know how to cope. If someone is upset or sad my gut reaction is to walk funny, do a dance, use a silly voice, burp, fart, do anything to lift the heavy weight in the room. My entire family is this way. For example: about 3 years ago when my grandpa was admitted to the ER in the middle of the night, the hospital called the family to let us know it was the end and we needed to get down there. For hours my extended family was sitting in the waiting room, about a dozen of us, telling the funniest stories we could think of about our grandpa. We were all taking turns saying our goodbyes, and laughing our asses off at the same time. One other person was in the waiting room and came up to us and said, "I wish my family was like this. You're all having such a good time while getting through a tough time." And that really stuck with me. I felt so lucky to have a family that copes this way, and I can't wait to pass it on to my kids who I WILL be watching Blazing Saddles with as soon as they're old enough. So like, 8 years old. 

What's your favorite bad/dad joke?

What do you call a fish with no eyes? 

Fshhhhh.

How is humor helpful for mental health?

For myself, it's so important to laugh and get that serotonin going in my brain. I struggle with anxiety and depression and I refuse to be on prescribed medication. It makes me feel wonky. If I didn't have comedy as a regular part of my routine, I'd be on so much Xanax -- it'd be a mainline situation. I'd probably be trying to smoke it. Working in the world of comedy and having similar types of people around me has helped my mental health in the biggest way possible. 

Comedy can also be viewed as a mental health problem of it's own. There's something to be said about a person who will do ANYTHING for a laugh, and I'm definitely one of those people. It's not about the self-gratification, it's about making everyone in the room happier, which can be a good thing and a bad thing, and sometimes both simultaneously. 

Would you rather have a partner who is super hot, really nice and attentive, great in bed, and majorly successful OR one who has the perfect sense of humor?

I would have a sack of potatoes as a partner as long as they had a great sense of humor. That's my only qualification in a partner. Which is probably why I've dated a loooot of men without jobs and cars. But wouldn't it be nice to have all of the above?!

Andi Porter is a producer and actress, known for The Joel McHale Show with Joel McHale (2018), The Soup (2004) and Dish Nation (2011).

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

Humans of MHT: An Interview with Maria Elena Marquez

Lauren Ziel: Hi Maria Elena! I am really excited to talk with you today about humanness. I think this is the second to last interview we’re doing with all of our clinicians. And the first question we lead off with in this series is: What does humanness mean to you?

Maria Elena Marquez: Great question. What does humanness mean to me...it's where I feel most grounded, the most connected…to myself. And in this case it means with food and those around me. So, for me humanness is a sense of calmness in myself.

L: You mention food and your connection with food as this space of feeling grounded, feeling connected…it's so interesting because that’s such a primal thing. It's in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs – it’s the baseline, you know. And on one hand it's survival but it can also be a way to connect socially and a lot of the activities we have are based around food. I am wondering for you how food is the mechanism to which you find your humanness. So, why is it FOOD for you?

ME: Food for me is a place in which I can be in my five senses. I can look at this dish, I can smell it, I can see the smile of the person bringing it to me; and just talking about the ingredients, it takes me to a place; it either takes me to my childhood or to a place in my adulthood maybe where I am going to a new restaurant and trying a new dish and we’re both discovering this new dish together. So, it’s a sense of being connected to my past or just in this present moment and both of us are just enjoying this, and talking about it; talking about the ingredients and if anything feels familiar or totally not familiar to you. So, that’s the connection part for me  - the connection with the other person that’s sitting with me or a group of friends and we’re really just connecting and enjoying this present moment with this food and it's doing something, and just connecting to your emotions and your warmth in your body or the coolness when you're eating something like sushi… so that’s a little bit about my process with food.

L: I can see you light up when you talk about it. Like even as you describe it you are completely going into the memory of.  I mean, it radiates off of you! I was also thinking as you were talking it also sounds like a mindful meditation practice - using all of your five senses, being in the moment, if there is someone with you connecting with them in that moment. It just sounds like a really real-world practical way you can be mindful and present. I hadn’t thought about it in the context of food but there a little ‘light bulb’ moment.

So food being an extension of a place of grounding for you, I can totally see how that applies perhaps on a personal level, how does it show up for you in your work as a therapist?

ME: As my work as a therapist, I feel it really helps me be in the moment. When I am with clients I try to calm myself down in the process of looking at all these processes the client is going through. So it reminds me to calm down and go piece by piece, ingredient by ingredient with a client. And also I use it outside of therapy for me - it's my self-care - in actually making an intention to go out with someone or maybe by myself and try new food just to get me in the state of acknowledging what’s in front of me instead of always being in my head and trying to process client work. It’s really a place for me to calm myself down and just enjoy my surroundings, the person serving me, this dish. I feel it helps me to be more grounded and just more mindful of what’s in front of me, whether it’s a client or maybe an amazing dish. 

L: This is a little off the sheet perhaps but I’m really curious what’s a recent meal you had that just blew your mind because it reminded you of something or that it was completely new and exciting? I should have eaten before this…

ME: Well, a dish that took me back, or a restaurant that took me back to my roots, which is Salvadorian and Columbian, was actually a Mexican restaurant here in Highland Park. I was with a colleague and we had plantains and black beans, a nice queso fresco; we had some fresh avocado. And just the way it was plated was so beautiful. To me it was very simple, it was very humble because that’s the type of food I would have in El Salvador so it took me back. It was really nice.

I was eating with this coworker and I was able to go back with her and tell her a little bit about myself and a little bit about my culture. Though I was in a Mexican restaurant, all these ingredients and all the spices and how it was plated was so home-based that it was just a great way to start my day.

“[It’s] a place in which I can be in my five senses. I can look at this dish, I can smell it, I can see the smile of the person bringing it to me...it’s a sense of being connected to my past or just in this present moment.”

L: I mean, I was thinking about kind of an analogy - you're in a Mexican restaurant but then there are all these familiar flavors - its almost as if…I mean, sometimes I find myself in front of a client and I don’t share their cultural background, or I don’t have parallel experiences to them, but there is always this sort of ingredient or this flavor of “I see you. I understand”. Anyways, that was a little off the cuff but… its really lovely to hear how food is this one connecting thing; how you bring your culture in your work with clients, how it helps you stay grounded, how it keeps you full so that you are able to be that for the clients that you have. Its just really awesome. I would have never thought ‘food’ but I totally see it now.

ME: Yeah! And that’s why we should make a date and have a group dinner, and we can really enjoy and dive in and be mindful and just engage with a different place within ourselves.

L: Love it. I love it. Well it was lovely to interview you here and I am definitely going to go have food now . But thank you Maria Elena. I appreciate it.

ME: You're welcome. Thank you.

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Maria Elena Marquez, MA, is a bilingual Spanish-English Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #103470, working under the supervision of Michelle Harwell, PsyD, LMFT.  As an art therapist, Maria is passionate about helping clients unravel complex cultural beliefs and family pressures through the use of expressive art.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

What is Now

I know I may lose many of you while reading the following but here it goes…this blog post is about running.

 Still with me?  Okay.

While running may not immediately conjure up conventional notions of meditation practices, for me, running gets me in a meditative state.  When I run, sure I can do it for the challenge, the endorphins, or a time to tune-out and listen to my favorite Podcast or an artfully crafted Spotify playlist, but my most rewarding excursions are those when I take the time to mindfully engage with my body via its motion.

In contrast to sitting mindfulness meditations where sensations in the body often arise subtly, a moving body is interacting more with its environment and thus it inevitably receives more input and/or stimulation. Therefore, for many people, movement enables one to more easily be aware of their bodies. This is true for me.

“Rather than deny and move away from my discomfort, I use it as a support to my consciousness of what is now. ”

The repetitive movement patterns of my gate (its rhythm and pace), my foot strike on the ground, the stack of my shoulders over my hips and engagement of my torso, perhaps the tightness between my ribs as my body begins to crave oxygen for its muscles -- these are just a sampling of physical sensations I begin to attend to as I start my trek into the urban trailhead.

As I fall into embodiment, I unavoidably notice my mental patterns emerge and my mind begins to jump to the various “to-dos“ or a negative narrative about my sluggish legs which feel as though they’re made of cement. I allow it. I notice it. I kindly (without judgment) bring my awareness back to the present moment. Perhaps my way back in is through the sensation in those legs made of cement: heavy and cumbersome - struggling to lift away from their favorite cousin, asphalt.

Rather than deny and move away from my discomfort, I use it as a support to my consciousness of what is now. There is discomfort but there is not damaging pain. I move my mind closer to it, immerse my consciousness in it, and singularly focus on my legs of cement - so heavy and cumbersome. After several moments, I begin to notice the sensations change -- an energy moving in spirals up and down my thighs. The heaviness subsides and my pace quickens.  

Obviously in a running meditation I cannot withdraw my complete attention from the outside world. I have to maintain awareness of my environment if not for anything else than my safety. Because of this fact, I can also use running as an opportunity to practice externalized mindfulness.  So often runners traverse the same routes over and over and never actually notice their environment because they have turned inwards toward those mental patterns and become lost in thought. For those who identify, try having a gentle curiosity about the world around you. Whatever catches your attention, become interested in it and examine its qualities as fully as you can until the next moment/place/thing draws your interest to it.

However you decide to shift your perspective, whether you find an embodied practice or set an intention to convene with the present moment around you, running (or any other moving mediation) can be a great way to tap into both the physical benefits of movement and the mental and spiritual benefits of a divine meditative practice.

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Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Vanessa Spooner, PsyD. Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.