Friday, May 31, 2013
Expression in a Sandstory
How disturbed can a child be when he placed the little figurine of a naked baby ontop of a heap of 'dead people' in the sand tray? Could he be expressing the feeling of utter despair? How can one contemplate even an adult expressing such sadness, not to mention a little child. Yes, this is one sand tray I just witnessed.
I find some similarities between sandplay therapy and mindfulness psychotherapy. Mindfulness helps us turn towards our fear, anger, guilt, sadness or whatever feelings we are experiencing and be aware of the pain such emotion is causing in our body. We accept these emotions without aversion and stay with it till it fades away, thus noticing its impermanence.Over time we pick up the confidence to endure pain (having lived through it) and adopt a willingness to face unpleasantness.
In sandplay therapy the client is able to see his fears or other hidden emotions played out in the sand tray. They are able to face and hold the pain or fear within the safe and protected space created by the presence of the therapist.Sandplay allows the client to describe a personal problem metaphorically and “thus keep a safe distance from it”. Likewise in mindfulness psychotherapy a person seems to be observing himself from a distance, noticing his own thought patterns and habitual emotional response. The calm and stable mind begins to contemplate and investigate the causes and conditions of the inner issues and like a third person viewing the problem sees new approaches and alternatives. Similarly in Sandplay the client having played out his inner issues over and over again begins to draw on his inner resources to see new perspectives and insights in resolution.
No wonder at one session, my little client heaved a sigh of relief after a very intense and focused one hour. "Tired?" I asked. He broke out into a smile and nodded.
(Incidentally, unlike at the school, I can now spend as much time as needed with my little clients Phew!)
Monday, May 20, 2013
The Here & Now- More than Enough
So within this week 3 persons have related to me their dukkha (sanskrit for dissatisfaction or stress).
One is feeling kind of lost without a job after his contract ended. In his late fifties and being financially independent, he doesn't really need to work for a living. Yet the lack of response from employers upsets him.
Another, the boss of a small manufacturing company in her sixties, laments that her son lacks the full commitment to take over the business. She feels trapped and burdened, not able to have a lifestyle she desired even at this age.
Yet another is struggling to make sense of the politicking happening in her religious institution which she is working in.
Yesterday I had a dream. In my dream I recently joined a small company. I was asked to attend a meeting by the CEO. There was only 1 other senior executive at the meeting which was about expanding the company overseas and hence the need to seek financing, engage the banks and prepare a set of prospectus. In my dream I was rather disturbed that the CFO was not present and I was tasked to take on some of the CFO's duties. I told myself I took this job because it was supposed to be a relaxing one When the CFO and some other executives returned from lunch they were upset for being left out of this "inner circle" meeting. At this point I felt rather pleased that I was being valued by the CEO but was upset with the amount of work to be done.
So my dream kind of embodied the dukkha of the 3 persons and how we are invariably dissatisfied no matter the situation. Would the 1st person envy the 2nd's predicament and vice versa? We always think that "if only this and this happens, I would be happy". Thich Nhat Hanh said : "It is possible to live happily in the here and now. So many conditions of happiness are available- more than enough for you to be happy right now. You don't have to run into the future in order to get more".
In a workshop which I attended, we were told to sit in groups of 4. Each of us was given a piece of paper and told to divide it into 4 sections. We were then asked to draw an unpleasant encounter or feeling which took place during the day or of late. We then passed our paper to the next person to draw something in another section of the paper after looking at what the first person has drawn. The paper then goes to the 3rd and 4th person to fill the remaining sections. When finished there would be 4 pieces of papers, each showing the origin of a problem followed by 3 responses. Amongst many lessons learnt from this exercise was the observation that it is quite easy to offer solution when detached or put it in another way you can see the silver lining in other's situation readily but not your own.
My own dream may be serving myself a reminder.
I
One is feeling kind of lost without a job after his contract ended. In his late fifties and being financially independent, he doesn't really need to work for a living. Yet the lack of response from employers upsets him.
Another, the boss of a small manufacturing company in her sixties, laments that her son lacks the full commitment to take over the business. She feels trapped and burdened, not able to have a lifestyle she desired even at this age.
Yet another is struggling to make sense of the politicking happening in her religious institution which she is working in.
Yesterday I had a dream. In my dream I recently joined a small company. I was asked to attend a meeting by the CEO. There was only 1 other senior executive at the meeting which was about expanding the company overseas and hence the need to seek financing, engage the banks and prepare a set of prospectus. In my dream I was rather disturbed that the CFO was not present and I was tasked to take on some of the CFO's duties. I told myself I took this job because it was supposed to be a relaxing one When the CFO and some other executives returned from lunch they were upset for being left out of this "inner circle" meeting. At this point I felt rather pleased that I was being valued by the CEO but was upset with the amount of work to be done.
So my dream kind of embodied the dukkha of the 3 persons and how we are invariably dissatisfied no matter the situation. Would the 1st person envy the 2nd's predicament and vice versa? We always think that "if only this and this happens, I would be happy". Thich Nhat Hanh said : "It is possible to live happily in the here and now. So many conditions of happiness are available- more than enough for you to be happy right now. You don't have to run into the future in order to get more".
In a workshop which I attended, we were told to sit in groups of 4. Each of us was given a piece of paper and told to divide it into 4 sections. We were then asked to draw an unpleasant encounter or feeling which took place during the day or of late. We then passed our paper to the next person to draw something in another section of the paper after looking at what the first person has drawn. The paper then goes to the 3rd and 4th person to fill the remaining sections. When finished there would be 4 pieces of papers, each showing the origin of a problem followed by 3 responses. Amongst many lessons learnt from this exercise was the observation that it is quite easy to offer solution when detached or put it in another way you can see the silver lining in other's situation readily but not your own.
My own dream may be serving myself a reminder.
I
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Get Real on Mother's Day
Many many years ago I went to a hawker centre for lunch with 2 colleagues. It was packed and with permission we joined a lady (maybe in her mid 30s) seated with 2 young kids at her table. Her food came before ours, a bowl of noodle which the 2 kids shared. That was all. Our food came and we ate in silence whilst aware that she was watching the children eat. When they left we shared our common impression that she could only afford one bowl of noodle. Actually I was quite sure all of us had thought of offering to buy food for them but were wary that we either misinterpreted the situation or would hurt the lady's pride. On this Mother's Day I wish this mum and her 2 by-now grown up daughters well and happy together. If buying mum a good dinner seems like loads of 'crab' conjured out of retailers' greed, for this family at least it would be very meaningful.
I also hope that the lady, though remembering her sacrifices, would be content with her children however they have become. So very often we are disappointed when our children fall short of our expectation because they foil our effort in proving to ourselves and the world that we have been good parents and that we have done things correctly; successful parenting that is.
Taken in by ST writer Cheong Suk Wai's 'must read' recommendation of "Far from the Tree" by Andrew Solomon, I borrowed a copy from the Library. In her article, CSW quoted Andrew Solomon's remark "Centuries of linear thinking have conditioned people to see children who conforms to society's norms as good apples and those who do not, or most often cannot, as bad ones". The book describes the experiences of parents who have to accept their children for what they are, their disabilities and differences from the norm.
In the first chapter entitled "Son" the author quoted the words of an intersex autistic person which I found very poignant. "When parents say, ' I wish my child did not have autism,' what they're really saying is, 'I wish the autistic child I have did not exist, and I had a different (non-autistic) child instead......This is what we hear when you pray for a cure. This is what we know, when you tell us of your fondest hopes and dreams for us: that your greatest wish is that one day we will cease to be, and strangers you can love will move in behind our faces'
The author, himself a transgender described his feelings " My mother didn't want me to be gay because she thought it wouldn't be the happiest course for me, but equally, she didn't like the image of herself as the mother of a gay son. The problem wasn't that she wanted to control my life-although she did; like most parents she genuinely believe that her way of being happy was the best way of being happy. The problem was that she wanted to control her life, and it was her life as the mother of a homosexual that she wished to alter. Unfortunately, there was no way for her to fix her problem without involving me."
Therein lies the dilemma of being a parent, to what extent do we accept our children for what they are and how much effort should we take to help them be 'better' persons without the pitfall of trying to fix "our own problem".
We have to 'Get Real'
I also hope that the lady, though remembering her sacrifices, would be content with her children however they have become. So very often we are disappointed when our children fall short of our expectation because they foil our effort in proving to ourselves and the world that we have been good parents and that we have done things correctly; successful parenting that is.
Taken in by ST writer Cheong Suk Wai's 'must read' recommendation of "Far from the Tree" by Andrew Solomon, I borrowed a copy from the Library. In her article, CSW quoted Andrew Solomon's remark "Centuries of linear thinking have conditioned people to see children who conforms to society's norms as good apples and those who do not, or most often cannot, as bad ones". The book describes the experiences of parents who have to accept their children for what they are, their disabilities and differences from the norm.
In the first chapter entitled "Son" the author quoted the words of an intersex autistic person which I found very poignant. "When parents say, ' I wish my child did not have autism,' what they're really saying is, 'I wish the autistic child I have did not exist, and I had a different (non-autistic) child instead......This is what we hear when you pray for a cure. This is what we know, when you tell us of your fondest hopes and dreams for us: that your greatest wish is that one day we will cease to be, and strangers you can love will move in behind our faces'
The author, himself a transgender described his feelings " My mother didn't want me to be gay because she thought it wouldn't be the happiest course for me, but equally, she didn't like the image of herself as the mother of a gay son. The problem wasn't that she wanted to control my life-although she did; like most parents she genuinely believe that her way of being happy was the best way of being happy. The problem was that she wanted to control her life, and it was her life as the mother of a homosexual that she wished to alter. Unfortunately, there was no way for her to fix her problem without involving me."
Therein lies the dilemma of being a parent, to what extent do we accept our children for what they are and how much effort should we take to help them be 'better' persons without the pitfall of trying to fix "our own problem".
We have to 'Get Real'
Saturday, May 4, 2013
May Elections
Tomorrow Malaysians will be casting their votes in what was dubbed as the most hotly contested election since 1969.
This morning my daughter forwarded websites sent by Malaysian friends alleging that planeloads of foreigners have been flown in by the ruling party probably as phantom voters in what is suspected to be a rigged election. I just hope no unrest will happen in what the opposition terms as "the Malaysian Spring".
May 1969, 14 years ago I lived through the fears and "excitement"(in the world of a child) of the racial riots that rocked KL. Though our parents were Singaporeans and were not involved in voting, they shared the jubilance of their Malaysian Chinese workmen who voted for the Chinese Opposition (I think it was the DAP which had gained considerable seats) in the May election.
As we lived in the heart of the city, I remembered hearing loud speakers from lorries blaring cries of victory. The next thing we knew was fear and panic. 2 of our workmen actually lived in kampongs in the midst of Malays. So we heard of fearful killings. A curfew was implemented not without a semblance of happiness greeted by the children "No School". We heard of Malays setting fire to the kampong houses of Chinese occupants. As the occupants fled their burning houses the soldiers/police (mainly Malays) shot them for not observing the curfew rules. Needless to say all that we heard was from the side of Chinese.
One evening a friend of mine, living a few doors away from us, braved the short distance of 10 meters in the open street to pass a message of great importance. You see, my family lived on the 3rd floor of a row of 3 storey flats. My friend lived on one of the ground floor flats with a small garden, which the balconies of the 2nd and 3rd floor flats overlooked onto. The grave message her parents asked her to deliver was information that busloads of Malays armed with parangs were descending on the town area. As neighbours we got to be united. Those staying on the upper floors must equip themselves with boiling water, choppers, knives and whatever we could think of to throw down on any attackers. We were also given a tip that hanging a large piece of pork on your doorway would help to hinder entry.
That night my mother entrusted me with a most important task, almost matching an imperial mission in a family context. Should any rioters forced their way into our flat, I must immediately bring my younger brother out from the backdoor, climb the spiral staircase onto the roof and hide behind the low wall separating the roof terrace and the steep roof. If we were to lie flat behind the wall no one would be able to spot us. All these while the adults and bigger siblings fought the enemy. I slept very lightly and woke up in the middle of the night to find my younger brother sleeping next to me with his school shoes on. Haha he was even more prepared than me!
The incident had its funny moments too. The ground floor flat at the end of our row was occupied by the workers of a chain of up market grocery that imported foreign food products. The store was owned by a rich Indian family. They used the flat to house their workers as well as a store for their imported stuff. There being a curfew and food stuff running low at Chinese groceries which were also a distance away, many families ordered food stuff from this high end grocery. I remembered my mum crying in horror at the bill. I recalled vividly an order for garlic came in the form of a nice bottle of small cloves of garlic floating in some juice, imported from UK. So much for solidarity against the enemy.
Recalling these memories made me google to have a more objective view of what actually took place. Apparently the victorious opposition went overboard riling at the Malays that supported the ruling party thus fueling their wrath. That event changed the path of many, not the least my family. My elder sister who was a relief teacher then had applied for Malaysian citizenship to gain entry to the teachers training college. After the incident she made an abrupt decision to return to Singapore after spending more than 10 years in KL. All her younger siblings followed suit gradually. Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like for me if we had stayed on. I have no doubt materialistically we are better off moving to Singapore, but then again what would life have been like if we had stayed on, I still wonder.
Let us hope tomorrow's election will be peaceful and wouldn't turn out as a nightmare for any child.
This morning my daughter forwarded websites sent by Malaysian friends alleging that planeloads of foreigners have been flown in by the ruling party probably as phantom voters in what is suspected to be a rigged election. I just hope no unrest will happen in what the opposition terms as "the Malaysian Spring".
May 1969, 14 years ago I lived through the fears and "excitement"(in the world of a child) of the racial riots that rocked KL. Though our parents were Singaporeans and were not involved in voting, they shared the jubilance of their Malaysian Chinese workmen who voted for the Chinese Opposition (I think it was the DAP which had gained considerable seats) in the May election.
As we lived in the heart of the city, I remembered hearing loud speakers from lorries blaring cries of victory. The next thing we knew was fear and panic. 2 of our workmen actually lived in kampongs in the midst of Malays. So we heard of fearful killings. A curfew was implemented not without a semblance of happiness greeted by the children "No School". We heard of Malays setting fire to the kampong houses of Chinese occupants. As the occupants fled their burning houses the soldiers/police (mainly Malays) shot them for not observing the curfew rules. Needless to say all that we heard was from the side of Chinese.
One evening a friend of mine, living a few doors away from us, braved the short distance of 10 meters in the open street to pass a message of great importance. You see, my family lived on the 3rd floor of a row of 3 storey flats. My friend lived on one of the ground floor flats with a small garden, which the balconies of the 2nd and 3rd floor flats overlooked onto. The grave message her parents asked her to deliver was information that busloads of Malays armed with parangs were descending on the town area. As neighbours we got to be united. Those staying on the upper floors must equip themselves with boiling water, choppers, knives and whatever we could think of to throw down on any attackers. We were also given a tip that hanging a large piece of pork on your doorway would help to hinder entry.
That night my mother entrusted me with a most important task, almost matching an imperial mission in a family context. Should any rioters forced their way into our flat, I must immediately bring my younger brother out from the backdoor, climb the spiral staircase onto the roof and hide behind the low wall separating the roof terrace and the steep roof. If we were to lie flat behind the wall no one would be able to spot us. All these while the adults and bigger siblings fought the enemy. I slept very lightly and woke up in the middle of the night to find my younger brother sleeping next to me with his school shoes on. Haha he was even more prepared than me!
The incident had its funny moments too. The ground floor flat at the end of our row was occupied by the workers of a chain of up market grocery that imported foreign food products. The store was owned by a rich Indian family. They used the flat to house their workers as well as a store for their imported stuff. There being a curfew and food stuff running low at Chinese groceries which were also a distance away, many families ordered food stuff from this high end grocery. I remembered my mum crying in horror at the bill. I recalled vividly an order for garlic came in the form of a nice bottle of small cloves of garlic floating in some juice, imported from UK. So much for solidarity against the enemy.
Recalling these memories made me google to have a more objective view of what actually took place. Apparently the victorious opposition went overboard riling at the Malays that supported the ruling party thus fueling their wrath. That event changed the path of many, not the least my family. My elder sister who was a relief teacher then had applied for Malaysian citizenship to gain entry to the teachers training college. After the incident she made an abrupt decision to return to Singapore after spending more than 10 years in KL. All her younger siblings followed suit gradually. Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like for me if we had stayed on. I have no doubt materialistically we are better off moving to Singapore, but then again what would life have been like if we had stayed on, I still wonder.
Let us hope tomorrow's election will be peaceful and wouldn't turn out as a nightmare for any child.
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