Women are Fecund

“We are meant to give birth to love. ”

Fecund. Such a fun word. Fecund. See, what I mean? It’s so fun to say. And, then, when you look up the definition, because you do have to look it up, (how else would I have known what it means??), it’s so deeply meaningful. “Capable of producing offspring, fruit, vegetation, etc. in abundance: prolific: fruitful. Very productive or creative intellectually.” A powerful combination - a word that contains the joy of playfulness and depth of meaning - and what it’s like to work at MHT. I came on board as Clinical Director with this group of wonderful women about six months ago and my time has been just that, joyful and deeply meaningful. 

And with Christmas upon us, I keep thinking about how this joyful, deeply meaningful word - fecund - encapsulates the message of Christmas in the Judeo-Christian narrative. The story starts with an ever important announcement - the Angel Gabriel visiting the virgin Mary in Luke 1:26-38. The story is fantastical! An angel visiting a terrified, virgin woman, telling her she is to give birth to the son of God. Crazy! Right? But I say dismissing it as “crazy” is old news. How about we let ourselves play with it a little bit, give our imagination some room, and let the story be a parable of sorts, with room for metaphor. The concrete, literal message has a broader reach. A deeper meaning for our everyday lives, loaded with a crucial message for us.

When we let metaphor in, the story teaches us that, as women, (and humans), we are meant to give birth to love. Generative and creative and help meet the world’s needs. No matter our circumstances and when we think it’s impossible, we are called to be growthful, fruitful, and, in abundance, for the world’s sake. Fecund. And, if we remember the way love permeates Jesus’s message in the story as it continues - “For god so love the world, he gave his only son,” “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control. And the greatest of these is love,” “love the lord with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself. These are the two greatest commandments.” 

This is the message of Christmas to me - that we are called to give birth to love and this love will heal us, forgive us, and ultimately, save us. I wrote a poem in this fecund spirit. Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you from MHT!

Love Has Come

The Angel Gabriel and Mary. 

The encounter. 

She, 

cowering in the corner, 

hiding in the darkness. 

The message. 

Love has been born, 

inside you. 

You are pregnant 

with love.

The floor is moving, 

the walls shaking, 

the house’s foundation 

put to test. 

Earthquake news. 

An identity crisis.

Love has come,

out of the darkness.

Out of the cold.

Through you. 

I know you didn't know, 

how hard it would be,

to love. To birth love. 

To steward love. 

Terror. Rage. Despair.

The hardest thing 

you’ve ever done. 

I know you're scared. 

I'm scared too. 

But just because 

you're scared, 

doesn't mean 

you can't do it. 

You can’t not. 

We can’t not. 

Where will we be 

If we don’t bear love? 

Lost.Alone.Dead.

The walking dead,

I tell you. Do you 

get what I'm saying?

Love has come, inside you.

We.are.the.mother.of.love.

Labor.Birth.Growth.

This is how healing takes place.

This is where our suffering

can be held. 

This is what we need 

to be human.

Love has come. 

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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.

Humans of MHT: An Interview with Taz Morgan

Our Humans of MHT series continues with more glimpses behind the humans that sit in the chair across from you....

This time Abby invites Taz to contemplate the mysteries of being human and to discuss how practicing meditation and appreciating the arts has enriched her clinical practice. 

Taz: [laughs]

Abby: Hi Taz! It’s good to speak with you today. As you know, we are doing the series of Humans of MHT where we are looking at each different therapist and asking what humanness means to them and what human feature they bring to their practice. I’m excited to specifically talk with you because you know that I find you very interesting and I’m so curious just to start off by hearing...what does humanness mean to you?

T: I’m excited to be talking with you too, although you know I’m feeling anxious about this.

A: [laughs] Which is a human emotion.

T: Which is very human. I’ve been thinking about this question “What does humanness mean to you?” I kept coming back to – I really don’t know – or that what excites me about being human is the attempt to make meaning of what it means to be human. I kept thinking about, I think it’s the Rumi poem, basically saying, “This being human thing is a guesthouse.” So, there’s something about humanness to me that has a lot to do with mystery and not ever fully knowing why we’re here. But, I guess getting excited or feeling alive by the attempt to understand why we’re here.

A: I feel like this is your biggest strength as a therapist – you don’t just tolerate unknown, you sort of thrive in the unknown. And it sounds like that’s part of what you’re getting at when you think about this idea of humanness.

T: There is something uncertain or ambiguous about being human, and it makes us vulnerable to pain or loss and then there’s this other part of my understanding of humanness that’s important – it’s about imagination, too. That we have all this strength and resources to contend with the ambiguity...that we have our imaginations to build bridges in what sometimes feels like an abyss. I think what has helped me make sense of my experience is the arts or humanities, and I look to films, or philosophy, or literature to kind of get an understanding of what it means to be human. So, I think those things to me give me the most answers or solace, not conclusions, but they help me contend with the ambiguity.

“People come to therapy often because something is hurting, something is painful, and I think what I get from meditation and from the arts is this real understanding that pain is not pathological, that it doesn’t necessarily mean that something is wrong with you, but that you’re having a human experience.”

A: This feels related to what you picked for your humanness feature, which was the practice of mindfulness and meditation. I wonder how that practice that you picked fits into this idea of humanness to you.

T: Part of the reason why I chose it as something that represents my humanness is because I feel like I have a very imperfect relationship with meditation. Like it’s not a thing – I mean recently I’ve been trying to do it every day, but I don’t feel like I’ve had this perfect, easy relationship with it, it’s been kind of complicated. And I like that it represents a place where I’ve found a certain home. In meditation I have a place to just go, it’s like a container for thoughts, feelings, sensations, and it’s expanded my relationship to myself. I found meditation, or stumbled upon it, because I was really trying to, I think, improve myself or eliminate the feelings of anxiety that I was feeling, or to alleviate stress, and I think I thought it would be this thing to become a better person or become calmer and it didn’t really happen. [laughs] I didn’t really just arrive at any other new place necessarily, but it did change my relationship to my feelings of anxiety; that I held a much more compassionate space for it.

A: I had a similar experience when I first did meditation, which was I came into it wanting to feel better. And sometimes you don’t come out of an experience of meditation feeling better, because you’re actually allowing space for you to observe all of the things that are maybe making these feelings come up for you. And so it’s interesting that you talk about the arts as a catalyst for you having creative thoughts and meaning making around humanness, and then mindfulness as the container for some of those thoughts that are happening for you.

T: That’s a nice way of putting it.

A: I like that they go together for you, and they both feel very you – that one is sparking things and the other is making space for things.

T: I guess there is a dialogue then between the two, because I think I can run wired, like I can get overwhelmed by my thoughts, and this doesn’t have to do with art, but I was thinking that some of why meditation feels so human to me too is because my dad also always talked about his meditation practice growing up. 

A: He was so beyond his time, or before his time I mean!

T: I think he was getting it from hippie days, but way before this huge boom. And I remember thinking, “OK Dad, sure, great, I’m glad you have this thing you do.” But I resonate with him a lot. He and I have a lot of similar traits, character wise, just in being very introverted. So it’s also in some weird way I feel connected to him and more accepting of these traits that we both have. Growing up I also was irritated when I could see his introversion, like, “Why don’t I have a normal Dad!” So there’s something about that too that it connects to my family.

A: How do you feel like all of this shows up for you in the therapy room?

T: I think the meditation coupled with respect for the arts –I bring sort of a reverence or a respect for people’s uniqueness – like their unique expression of what it means to be human or to be embodied in this world as a human being and a humility in not really knowing. Having maybe some ideas, ways to process through pain, but not necessarily having concrete answers right away. People come to therapy often because something is hurting, something is painful, and I think what I get from meditation and from the arts is this real understanding that pain is not pathological, that it doesn’t necessarily mean that something is wrong with you, but that you’re having a human experience. So I know that plays a lot into the work that I do with clients. And a willingness to reflect, and to reflect on my own humanness and how clients’ stories will move me, or to reflect on that and to be open to that I think it also a human thing that I bring.

A: It sounds like you bring not only all of the work that you’ve done in yourself into the room, but you also try and bring your whole self into the room as an experience. As somebody to question with. As somebody to empathize with. As somebody to be in pain with. And I feel like the way that you’re talking about mindfulness, when we bring our mind into a room and it seems open I feel like that’s contagious for other people. And it sounds like that’s a lot of the work that you’ve been doing. Just to be curious, and questioning, and also containing all at the same time.

T: Ya, at least that’s the attempt. That reminds me of the word kinship – like being in kinship with; being with. That humanness is also so much about relating to others and relating to ourselves. I love how you’re making these connections and summarizing what I’m saying very well. [laughs]

A: Well now that we’re at the end...do you feel less anxious?

T: I do! It’s funny, I can trust in showing up and letting things just flow.

A: That’s the yoga Taz coming out.

T: [laughs] That is, yes.

A: Well, I’m so glad that we were able to connect today about your views on humanness and how you bring your human self into the room. And how you use the practice of meditation not only for your own work, but for your work with your clients as well. So thank you so much for talking with me.

T: Thank you Abby, thanks for making it so comfortable.

A: You’re welcome.

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Taz Morgan, MA, is a Registered Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #99714, working under the supervision of Vanessa Spooner, PsyD. She has trained in Depth-oriented psychotherapy and works with adolescents, adults, and couples. 

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Abigail (Abby) Wambaugh, M.S., is a Registered Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #94231, working under the professional supervision of Michelle Harwell, Psy.D., MFT 50732. She specializes in treating relationship difficulties, trauma, and sexual issues.

Playing on the Road

Although the most trying, painful times in my life each have been marked by their own constellation of circumstances, I can safely surmise that a lack of play and imagination lied at the core. In those periods, I experienced my thoughts and emotions as facts etched in stone. Like a sentence to prison without parole. In the throes of such literalism, there was no wiggle room to consider other options. Conversely, when I approach the world with a playful stance, the mundane can turn into the sacred. Anxiety can transform into creativity. And fear can soften into a sense of wonder. 

“...play is not about fun or pleasure per se. Instead, its essence is characterized by social connection and active engagement with the present.”

Given this stark contrast between life with and without play, one might think that I would have figured out a way to bottle up this magical elixir. And yet this frame of mind remains so darn elusive to me. I don’t think it means that I’m too much of a stick-in-the-mud (although haters may beg to differ!). Rather, I think play is play precisely because it is difficult to pin down. It has an emergent quality. It is ephemeral, mercurial even, and can not happen on demand. It is a frame of mind that arises in the sweet spot where safety and novelty intersect. And this brings me to...

Road trips! 

Yes, road trips, for me, are fertile ground for play. On such a journey, I’m in the familiar shell of my own car and often with a travel companion who elicits a sense of belonging. I can let my guard down. I also have a sense of agency (unlike with air travel) - my input on temperature, music selection, or when to stop for a break impacts the space. Moreover, I am moving and the terrain is constantly changing - stimulating and out of the ordinary but not overwhelming. Within this flow state, in-between-ness is tolerable. I may be anticipating arrival at a particular destination, and yet I truly revel in the pit stops at little diners off the interstate, the conversations that can unfold when there’s little distraction, or the way that time stands still when simply looking out the window. Possibility is in the air, and I'm ready for exploration. In this line of thought, play is not about fun or pleasure per se. Instead, its essence is characterized by social connection and active engagement with the present.

This all said, the salve to the next big obstacle may not be to literally hit the open road, but rather to get curious about what’s obscuring my imaginative capacity. Or as poet David Whyte says, “Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink….Everything is waiting for you.” 

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Taz Morgan, MA, is a Marriage and Family Therapist Intern, IMF #99714, working under the supervision of Vanessa Spooner, PsyD. She has trained in Depth-oriented psychotherapy and works with adolescents, adults, and couples.