January 2012

Welcome to 2012!

by Jon Eisman

Welcome to the New Year! 2012 - as it emerges from the womb of time - is barely in its diapers.

Once again, a restart, a sense of beginning, of initiation, resolution, of getting things going.

It occurs to me that as humans, all beginnings require some mix of optimism and faith. If we are confident, we assume thinks will work out, and so set forth. Less sure? Then we hope they will. No one starts anything – a business, a relationship, a sandwich – convinced it will disappoint or fail. We may be prepared for failure, but we are trusting or hoping that the path we set upon will lead somewhere we like.

When she was not quite three, my daughter climbed on top of the refrigerator, and called me into the kitchen, No sooner had I crossed the threshold than she flung herself into space, in my general direction. As she began that brief, exhilarating journey, she was confident her Dad would of course catch her [I did; still not sure how...].

As children, like my flying fox of a daughter, we are depending, innocently and unthinkingly, on our parents and the others already present to support our efforts. Suddenly we’re here, and the nature of our journey depends on the nurture of their ability, our family circumstances, whatever fields of tenderness and wherewithal, both inner & outer, they provide, as well as the bent of the culture and the zeitgeist. And how well or poorly we get started on things then sets a template for our later attempts at launching.

As adults, we tend to be somewhat more considerate in our inaugurations. We have more ability to prepare. Preparation is key to getting started well: knowing the likely sequences, what’s involved, the risks, the resources, the odds.

One foremost tool we have for bridging prep and outcome is Mindfulness – awareness, moment by moment, of what is happening, what we want, and using this information to choose direction. As we set out on some new path, we can study carefully the angle of the winds, and how they are impacting our progress. We can recognize moments of pleasure, danger, stress or satisfaction, and adjust accordingly. We can assess the balance between what we already have and what we will need to succeed, and work deliberately to merge the two. 

So as you leap off whatever appliances you are camping on into the wide open spaces of 2012, we want to wish you not just a happy new year, but  also a mindful one. Wherever the year takes you, wherever you take yourself, we hope you will consult yourself: frequently, deeply and honestly. Whatever journeys you embark upon, we hope you will get somewhere just right and righteously juicy. We hope that you will feel the empowerment of knowing that, as much as possible, you yourself created your successes, and were not only merely lucky enough to have some alert element of the world happen to catch you.

Strange Food

Beginnings and Uncertainty

by Donna Roy, LPC, CHT

Beginnings are getting my attention at the moment—mine and other’s. My daughter begins her post-college life in Africa volunteering with orphan babybaboons in a primate sanctuary: attachment studies in a very earthy form. My mom begins her 86^th year in a community context after a lifetime of independent living: making friends at a time of life when most friends are from the past. My husband and my best friend each begin that phase of life called “retirement”: a chance to really choose organically moment-to-moment, with emphasis on psychic rather than financial payback. My son and daughter-in-law begin the cultural initiatory process called “buying a first home”: a journey full of pros and cons, risk assessment and future wishing.

I like beginnings: big and small. I began as a wife and a teacher in Peace Corps in the 70’s; a mom and an intercultural educator and manager in the 80’s; a counselor in the 90’s and a counselor-educator in the 2000’s. All of these pretty big beginnings had their complexities and surprises, as all new things do. Mostly, though, they required a willingness to risk and trust without knowing what would actually transpire. They meant jumping into the mystery of the unfolding change process we call “life.”

This direct engagement with the unknown works best when I can somehow hear that quiet voice inside that speaks the truth. The one that isn’t afraid or confused or doubtful. The one that accepts what is real and present and offers a certain clear space from which to choose. Sometimes I listen and hear; sometimes I forget to pay attention. Being mindful (as I now call it) helps, though mindfulness can be an irregular companion.

Nor is the road to mindfulness always one of ease. I cried myself to sleep my first night as a Peace Corps volunteer in Korea in 1974, where everywhere I turned was something—a smell, a sound, a sight, a taste—that jarred or confused or even disgusted me. In and out of sleep all night, I felt an awareness slowly grow alongside all the emotional noise.  Somehow food became a M.E.T.A.phor for my options. By dawn on that second day in-country I knew I had three choices: I could (1) stay, not eat the food and die; (2) leave, survive physically, but fail at something I had dreamed of since I was 10 years old; (3) or stay and choose to love the food—and with it this people and place of complete otherness. 

That early morning awareness brought clarity and peace—and a decision to stay and thrive in Korea.  The intensity itself also strengthened my resolve and, I believe, my resilience. I had made it through that first night. I had listened to myself and gotten clear.  Now I knew what to do—at least until the next moment of the unknowable. But I trusted I would meet it.

At 59 I am beginning to look at my relationship to working and resting—excited to find ways to slow down and breathe more, energized by beginning to encounter myself in a new way, though unsure of the steps to take. The stakes could actually be high; it is possible to DO oneself into an early grave, even for those of us who live a life of perpetual beginnings, energizing in and of themselves. I don’t so much fear my own death—real or existential—in the face of the unknowns in my life. There seems to be more real danger in some of the knowns, the status quo, the comfortable—in being too sedentary, not playing enough, in taking on too much work.  

So, how do I begin this next new thing? This BEingness quest? Facing this unknown, like others, begins with intention, includes trust in the mystery of life, means listening to myself without judgment, and involves appreciating the confusions and uncertainties that inevitably arise. It means being with that which I just don’t know yet, and valuing the inherent discomfort that accompanies this disorientation. I need to remember that being unclear, unsure, uncomfortable, out-of-balance often accompanies beginnings and new growth.

TA Spotlight

Jessica Montgomery, MSW, CHT, and Certified Hakomi Teacher "in development"

Written by: Jennifer Samsom

To witness Jessica Montgomery in action at M.E.T.A.'s weekend trainings, doing exactly that which makes her heart sing: teaching and passionately sharing the art of Hakomi with eager students, it is difficult to believe that not too long ago she had given up on being a therapist and left the profession in search of something different.

If you’ve trained with M.E.T.A. or been involved within the M.E.T.A. community to nearly any extent, you will know who I am speaking of. She’s the assistant who has transformed assisting for M.E.T.A. into a viable art form. Her words are poetic, graceful and pure salve to any set of ears fortunate enough to catch them and any heart fortunate to embody them. Her competence and knowledge of her work delves as deeply as her love and passion for the work. If you watch her closely, you will notice that she doesn’t miss anything happening in the room and not only is she a keen observer, but her instincts and insight into what she sees and what is happening "under the surface" is unparalleled.

Jessica was graduated from Portland State University with an MSW degree and began working in a Community Mental Health setting. She expresses her initial frustration as a therapist utilizing the traditional methods she learned in grad school and describes the results she witnessed in clients as “mediocre at best.” This frustration grew so large that she did indeed leave the profession seeking a different path for herself after 10 years as a therapist. She moved to Breitenbush in hopes that this path she sought would reveal itself there. With intentions to “only stay for 6 months” she found herself still there five years later, held by the missing experience of genuine connection with people that was not defined by external identities or accomplishments. In so many ways, Jessica describes an unconditional holding of her Self at Breitenbush that she now offers to students in training.

Soon after leaving Breitenbush, approximately 7 years ago, M.E.T.A. launched. Although she has no recollection of how she found her way to her first intro taught by Jon Eisman, she does vividly recall the overwhelming impact it had on her. A large piece of Jessica’s frustration with traditional training was the lack of support or understanding for therapists to work relationally with their clients. When she brought it up to her supervisor that she was experiencing deep feelings of love for her clients, she was told it was countertransference and to go work that out in her own therapy. Thankfully, Jessica knew it was not countertransference she was experiencing but rather something that, if channeled with intent and skill, has the potential to be a source of healing and transformation for her clients.

In that first intro Jessica “was not only floored by contacting but [she] was mostly floored by the support and encouragement to intentionally be in loving presence with clients.” This was the missing piece she longed for since she began working with clients. The comp training was a natural next step. She describes herself as “not very good” in the beginning. She had many deep-rooted habits of traditional therapy that she had to unlearn in order to fully embrace the method.

“Before [learning Hakomi] I fumbled around with anything I could get my hands on, which usually produced very mediocre results. The results I've seen with Hakomi are not mediocre results, they are stunning results.” Jessica was part of the first cohort of M.E.T.A.’s comp training and has consistently been assisting in subsequent trainings since then. She views her involvement as an assistant as part of her own growth and learning process and also as a way of contributing to something larger.

“Everything I become excited about I am compelled to teach it to others. Teaching is how I learn best. It amuses me how constitutionally turned on I get being around people that are learning. I have this same experience every training weekend. The very process of learning, especially learning this method, is so energizing for me.

“Assisting in M.E.T.A. trainings is much more than teaching theories and practicing skills, for me it is also about creating a world amongst us in an image that truly hits my core values and often the core values of others in the room. It’s a shared longing that the world would allow us to be and reveal more of our Selves, that it would allow us to be more free while being held compassionately, and challenge us in a loving way.”

The impact of M.E.T.A.s training not only transformed Jessica’s professional practice; it transformed her personal life as well. “[Through learning this method] I healed my attachment and that’s changed everything for me. I did not know that I was terrified of intimacy. I thought of myself as somebody who was built for intimacy. It was unconscious how much I was avoiding actual connection with people and it was unconscious how I was very very hurt and vulnerable. I would have experiences with people over and over and that I could not make sense of because they didn’t match how I felt inside. Now I understand my strategies, I understand what I was doing and I understand what to do differently. It’s completely changed the way I am in relationship with people and my willingness to take relationship seriously and to be tender and with people.”

When asked what her vision is for the future of her practice and role as trainer/teacher, without hesitation she declared, “This is it for me. I feel so privileged to have this work. I feel so unbelievably lucky to be a therapist and to finally have found a method that actually works. It feels so good to sit down with new clients, listen to them talk and be able to say, ‘I can help you’ and know that I can.”

In February, Jessica is eagerly looking forward to teaching the Interpersonal Skills Training for her second time. "It widens the field out to people who simply want to develop as a person. I have a real love of group process and community and so much of what we can offer in the IST is group process and that's an area of where I feel like all the different streams of my past experiences and training come together."

Jessica ends with, “I think Jon and Donna are some of the best teachers I’ve ever encountered. I am a much better teacher for knowing them.” And M.E.T.A. is a much better organization for knowing Jessica.

Students' Corner

Jenn Gierada

You know that scene from Lord of the Rings where the men in the fellowship first set off on their journey where you see each of the men come up over a peak looking brave and strong, slow and steady, solid, confident, with their wits about them, not exactly knowing what’s in store but feeling dedicated to the quest (if a little naïve about the scope of what they’ve signed up for), and they emerge to a big rolling hills landscape in New Zealand, and they look small in this big beautiful world that unfolds before them, with so far to go? You know that scene?

That’s where we are in the comp training. At least that’s how I’m feeling today, on my birthday, just days before 2012 begins.

In the last two months we’ve opened the map (yep, there’s a Hakomi map) and crossed into the land of technique. It’s that this-is-magical-and-it’s-time-to-get-serious mountain crest. The tools (not weapons; this is therapy here) I carry are an absolute trust in the method and the knowing that I have – this cohort has – what it takes to make this journey: Authenticity. Vulnerability. Lovingness. Mindfulness. Curiosity. Resource. Courage. Strength. And now, the beginnings of method, map, technique and skill. Eventually it will all blend together to become Art, as demonstrated each month by our trainers. We are guided by masters.

Am I being dramatic? Yes. Is it appropriate? Yes. This is big. And on this day and eve of beginnings, the depth and beauty and vastness of the work is matched by the expansive gratitude and blessedness I’m feeling. Onward!

Jenn Gierada began her practice of mindfulness in 1992 while training as a professional modern dance performer. Since then her practice has included yoga, Theravada Vipassana meditation, ecstatic dance, Solsara, Reiki and shamanic journeying. She's led groups in conscious movement, emotional release sessions, and Osho Dynamic Meditation, and is now practicing working with individuals to develop her skills as a helper and guide.

Sharron Akins

Interpersonal Skills Training class is about to begin and I feel excitement and anticipation growing within.  I do not know what to expect and honestly I am a little nervous about being back in “school.”  It has been years since I last took any kind of class.  I know how much my daughter enjoyed the comp classes for the last two years and if this course is anything like that then I have lots to look forward to.

I am new to Hakomi and this way of being.  Mindfulness is new to me but I have a lifetime’s experience of listening to people.  I have been engaging in mindfulness during my weekly therapy sessions and so far I like what I am learning.  I see mindfulness in action with my grandkids and I like how they enjoy it and try to practice it on their own.  Even the 3-year-old will tell me to shut my eyes and ask me to notice what sounds I am hearing, smells I am smelling, etc.  And then she asks me if I am feeling better. Sometimes I even have an opportunity to practice mindfulness when she gets angry with me, in that way only 3-year-olds can, when I tell her “Nana can’t shut her eyes right now, because she is driving.”

So in a few weeks, I will be sitting for 2 ½ days learning about mindfulness and trying on new skills to see what fits.  I can already feel the momentum of what a life-changing journey this will be and a great achievement for myself.

Sharron Akins is a retired educator and administrator from Orange County Head Start in Southern California. She now resides in Portland, Oregon and takes pleasure in her daily life as a full-time grandmother.