Mother of Universe

I had a challenging client yesterday morning.. When I went to the Home for my first session with this girl, she was nowhere to be found. They had to track her down. When she entered the room she just plonked herself angrily on the chair, staring into space, seemingly oblivious to the vast collection of colourful symbols, figurines and little toys displayed on the table in front of her. I remarked softly that she seemed to be a bit upset and that it was ok for her to sit there as long as she wanted. I sat a metre away to gave her space. Awhile later I drew my seat a bit closer but remained quiet. I was reminded of Robin William in "Goodwill Hunting" and psycho myself that it was ok to sit with the client without uttering a single word for the whole session.

We sat there in silence and through the glass doors stared at the heavy rain beating onto the floor of the basket ball court outside. It was a gray and wet morning somehow befitting the mood of the teenage girl whose face gradually looked more sad than angry. "Being there for the client" I experienced this at another level yesterday.

Gradually she gingerly poked one finger into the sand tray, drawing patterns on the surface with it. With a bit of prompting she progressed to engaging a hand and then both hands. There is something about the texture of sand that draws people in once they touch it. From then on it was a lot of feeling, lifting, sprinkling, scooping, sculpting and shuffling with both hands. Younger kids sometimes tell you straight in the face that they love the sand or they want to eat it or they want to step into the tray and bury their whole body in it. Perhaps it is some form of tactile connection with nature or earth or perhaps it is like letting go and trusting Mother Universe to take us into her charge when we are lost. Almost inevitably there will be some ease and some relief.The girl went on to select a few symbols to place in the sand, all rather reflective of her inner issues.

I walked out that morning with ease and quiet peace because the picture of her last tray bears much hope despite the hurt reflected in the interim trays. The last tray was that of levelled sand adorned with a myriad of colorful marbles and topped with a glass prism. When reviewing a Sandpicture there is a checklist to guide therapists. Under a sub heading called 'Therapist's feeling response" is one which prompts the therapist to recall any image emerging in his or her mind.

For me the last tray was like a universe of planets and stars. It lifted me and I hope  her too.