The Tribal Drums of Ecstacy!

 I shall tell ye through the medium of dance!

~ Little Britain

The Ray McCooney character in the BBC comedy Little Britain may have been onto something when he would say that he would express himself through the medium of dance. Dance is a form of expression, a medium of communication using movement, and a non-verbal art form. I've never really been much of a dancer. A couple of weeks ago I attended a two-day workshop comprising dance movement psychotherapy, authentic movement and ecstatic dance! I had very little idea what any of these things were but I found the experience quite illuminating and I now feel these are areas I'd like to explore more. As far as I know, authentic dance was born out of dance movement psychotherapy and has elements of Jung as well as other ideas in the underpinning theory. 

The dance movement psychotherapy we did revolved around dancing to music as a group. Our facilitator explained to us how we can use all parts of our bodies, moving freely whilst feeling the music flow through us. We were encouraged to go with the flow and embody ourselves into the rhythms in a mindful way, paying attention to what the body was telling us. At the end of the session we split into groups of three or four and talked about how we experienced the session. It was explained to us that as we move our bodies our minds start to feel freer, almost as if bodily movements somehow lubricate the mind. We were asked to reflect on the thoughts and feelings that were released through our movement and whether we noticed any changes in these during the movement session. We talked about a lot of this in our small groups and gave and received reflection to each other. I do think there was a therapeutic element to this process and believe it has much more potential than the limited time available did it justice.

We moved on to doing an authentic movement session. This involved working in pairs, taking it in turns to work as "mover" and as "witness". The idea was that the mover would engage in the authentic movement first whilst the witness observed and then we would swap places. We did the exercises to music, although I understand they can be done without, and we kept our eyes closed when we were acting as movers. Fundamentally we had to listen to our body and let it take us wherever it felt, almost as if it had a mind of its own. We were to feel the music and let the imagery, sensation and sound permeate our body and let it move in an authentic way without interfering cognitively. The movement had to be whatever we naturally felt without any restrictive thoughts to interfere with the process. The witness was there to make sure we were safe, as we were moving in the space with our eyes closed, and to provide non-judgemental and non-directive reflection at the end of the session.

 

Image by Liminale

A key element of authentic movement is to allow a deep connection between the mind and body. According to the theory, by allowing ourselves to experience genuine movement a connection is made which can transfer elements of the past that are embedded in the unconscious into the conscious. The power of authentic movement as a therapy is that it makes a connection between the mind and body allowing for increased self-awareness and new insights. Our inner experiences which are buried in our unconscious are what move us physically and it is this connection that brings thoughts and feelings into the conscious realm where they can be integrated in the present. The process can also incorporate mindfulness and spirituality in a way that adds a transcendental dimension to the experience. Our mind, body and spirit become harmonious and represent a unified existence in the present moment.

The other part of the workshop was an extended ecstatic dance. Our facilitator guided us through the music which she DJd in a way that took us all on a journey together. The music started off very slowly with some new world tribal sounds, a slow but rhythmic beating of distant African drums, seamlessly progressing in tempo and eventually reaching deephouse and trance euphoria during the middle part of the dance journey. From there things started to slow down, with an alternative music sequence, eventually bringing us towards the end of the journey with mellow ambient sounds which I don't think I can even describe; maybe friendly, smiling dolphins swimming in the ocean whilst humming to each other as they glide through the water! The whole ecstatic dance experience was also rooted in authentic movement in that we moved freely, letting our bodies move as they wanted, but with an additional element of moving to the rhythm of the music in a conscious way. Other features of the ecstatic dance included not being allowed to talk, a collective experience of being on a journey together and being aware of our own sensations in the communal space. 

 

 

We reflected on the experience in small groups shortly after we'd finished. What I'd found was that I had been able to "let go" of some of my inhibitions so that I had been able to dance without being particularly self-conscious. That had been quite a liberating experience. I also actually enjoyed the dancing and was surprised at some of the movements I could actually do! It did feel like a journey in many ways. It was a journey of the mind, influenced by the dancing and the movements, during which a lot of different thoughts and feelings seemed to come up for me. During the two hours I had periods of sadness and anger but also of happiness and optimism and lots in between. It was also a journey which I traversed with fellow travellers, the other movers and shakers in the space, with our DJ at the helm of the vehicle that was transporting us. Although there was a communal connection there was one thing that was missing: there was no connection with any individual human being. At the end of the dance we all went our separate ways and I with a feeling that I'd enjoyed the event, immersing myself in the ecstatic dance, but harbouring a persistent feeling of loneliness and isolation.

The workshop was surprisingly comprehensive, covering so many different facets of therapeutic applications of dance and movement, and expertly facilitated by Iona McNeil, who I found to be an amazing ecstatic dance leader. Dance movement psychotherapy and authentic movement are now on my radar for further exploration for their therapeutic benefits. Ecstatic dance is also on my radar as a potential mental and physical health well-being activity. A cursory search on Eventbrite and Meetup seems to throw up a whole bunch of ecstatic dance events but without the safety net of the more formalised workshop that I attended. Attendance of such an event will require a step a bit beyond my comfort zone, especially as I don't have anyone to go with. It would be so good to be able to go along with people that also want to explore these sorts of things. In the meantime I think I might put some music on a bit later and dance ecstatically in my flat! 

Let's see what a YouTube search for tribal African drums and deephouse brings up!

~~~

Information on Iona McNeil's ecstatic dance events; accessed on 07/02/2024 ~ definitely worth checking out!

Authenticity and the Life of Dogs

 The world is full of broken people inflicting their brokenness on others.

~ Dannie-Lu Carr

 
Earlier this year my psychotherapist reflected back to me my need for authenticity. This was within the context of wanting to be liked and accepted as the "real" me, without having to present a refracted image of my true self. My reckoning was that external acceptance of a portrayal of an imagined self serves only to connect with a facade. The real self remains in a void, remote and disconnected. I had explained I just wanted to be me, to not have to try and be someone or something that I was not, and to be accepted in that way. This means being aware of thoughts and feelings, acknowledging them, and being open about them. Allowing our emotions to surface and then naming them, rather than pushing them back or deflecting them away, allows congruence with our inner reality. This fosters integrity which makes us more wholesome human beings. I believe that this is the only way that human connection can have real meaning.  To me, this is what it means to be authentic. I had explained this thinking in one of my sessions. I clearly remember my therapist nodding at the time, perhaps in agreement or maybe just to indicate he was listening.

Authenticity is a topic that comes up regularly at Talk & Listen, my peer support group. It's interesting to see how this is something that seems to resonate with so many people. Some time ago somebody new started coming to the group sessions. This person, who I shall call "Mark", talked at length about how important authenticity was to him. I remember him explaining that it was one of the values that he lives his life by and that he believed honesty was essential to fostering good relationships. He had shared a story about how a small group of people had not acted with honesty and authenticity towards him and that he had felt betrayed, depressed and upset as a result. Members of the group, myself included, offered emotional support and at the end of the session he said that he felt much better as he felt he had been heard and understood. 

Most people generally acknowledge that authenticity is an essential ingredient for living a good and meaningful life, whether or not they practice what they believe. It's such a fundamental part of human connection and one that becomes apparent very early on in life. Six year olds are pretty clued up on it even at that age! Here's a quote from one such child that views this from their perspective:   

Post-It note by a six-year old

Last Saturday I met up in a coffee shop with someone I've got to know from my support group. We had lots to talk about, including our experience of the group. My friend remarked how well it seemed to be going and how it seemed that everyone who comes along always feels that they really benefit from it. I then told her about a situation that had stunned me and left me feeling quite anxious and upset. A recent meeting had not seemed different in any particular way to any other. I always conclude the meetings with a go-round at the end asking everyone how it was for them. One of the regular attendees said that he had enjoyed coming along again and had got a lot out of the session, just as he had said on all of his previous attendances. This person was Mark. After I formally concluded the meeting, he even stayed behind for about a further half hour to chat with myself and a few others who had also decided to hang around for a bit, before leaving as normal and saying that he looked forward to coming along again next time.                     

"Meetup" is the main platform I use to advertise the group. They introduced a rating facility some time ago where people can leave a star rating and additional feedback of events that they attend. The additional feedback comprises some tick boxes and free text where people can describe their views in their own words. I have always felt pleased and reassured to see that where people have left feedback for my support group meetings it has always been at the five star level with corresponding feedback. Mark's rating, however, when I saw it later that evening, left me in shock and utter disbelief. He had rated the session with just two stars, and ticked boxes to state that the meeting was "not as described", "not engaging", "had no impact" and that he had a "problem with host". He had left the free text box blank, so provided no clue as to why he chose to leave such incredibly negative feedback. He had said nothing other than how useful and engaging the session had been whilst he was there but then left feedback that completely contradicted this.

Meetup Rating and Feedback

 

The support group operates on a peer-to-peer basis where we all support each other. I am just the same as everyone else who attends, with my own anxieties and insecurities. I recall vividly that during the meeting in question I had explained that I was feeling particularly anxious and that my confidence had taken a knockback. I too was asking for support and understanding in making the effort to organise, turn up and run the session despite being in a frazzled state. I remember Mark saying during the session that he felt I was "doing a great job". It's not possible to get inside Mark's mind and identify the causes of his subsequent behaviour. He had made a point of explaining at a previous meeting how important authenticity was to him and how the actions of others who had not been authentic with him had left him feeling. At this most recent session he said he enjoyed and benefitted from taking part but then left pretty toxic feedback, and without offering any explanation as to why. 

Mark has been one of the more outspoken members of the group. He isn't someone who seems to have much trouble in getting his points across or speaking his mind. If indeed he had issues with the meeting he had plenty of opportunity to let me know after it had formally ended during which time he stayed behind to chat. He also had a free text box where he could have offered some explanation but left this blank. I told someone else I know about the feedback and they said they thought that Mark was clearly dishonest and that he'd had plenty of opportunity to talk about the meeting if he'd felt he wasn't happy for some reason. She also said I shouldn't take it personally. However, the dishonesty and the "problem with host" don't really allow much room to see it any other way. My coffee shop friend was as baffled as I was. She said she couldn't understand why he would leave such negative feedback, especially as he would have been aware what harm and distress it would cause me personally. The hugely inspirational and insightful Dannie-Lu Carr, who I've worked with in the past, sums things up perfectly: "The world is full of broken people inflicting their brokenness on others".

There is one final bit of the Meetup feedback where attendees are asked the question "Would you attend again?". Mark responded "No".

An Imaginary Friend at Christmas!

Loneliness is not solitude. Solitude requires being alone, whereas loneliness shows itself most sharply in company with others.

~ Hannah Arendt

It's the afternoon of Christmas day! As I sit and occasionally look out of the window I am struck by the stillness of the world outside. I don't see anyone walking along the street nor do I see any cars. It feels like a place and time in a post-apocalyptic and dystopian future world. The view is foggy. The silence is deafening. The absence of any signs of life is ominous. Yet this moribund state is not a true reflection of the day. Whilst there will be many who are alone there are many more who are spending time with friends and family. I can only imagine the lovely food, the paper hats and crappy cracker jokes (does someone actually get paid to come up with those!?).

It's not even clear to me how I feel today. I knew Christmas was coming and that I would be spending a few days on my own. I made an effort on Saturday to go to some events to try and maximise the hours of human contact on that day. I saw this as a way of filling up with as much human connection fuel as my emotional tank could accommodate. My theory was that, the more human contact I could immerse myself in, the longer I would be able to keep going over the Christmas void. It would take longer for the effects of being on my own to start to have a negative impact. Normally, after an overdose of socialising, I almost always need time to recharge anyway, so even if it wasn't Christmas, I wouldn't yet be looking for any further dose of social activity. I think I've still got enough fuel in the tank to last me for Boxing day. After that, I know I will start to feel some desperation to connect again, even if at least on a superficial level.  

Hannah Arendt, an American-Jewish philosopher, wrote about loneliness, isolation and solitude. I think it's useful to note some distinctions in the meanings of these words. She said that "Solitude is that human situation in which I keep myself company. Loneliness comes about when I am alone without being able to split up into the two-in-one, without being able to keep myself company". Arendt distinguished isolation from loneliness, saying that it was "Destructive of power and the capacity for action". Loneliness is a feeling. It represents an emotion arising from an unmet need to be connected with others but not being able to do so. Feeling lonely is a craving to connect with others on a meaningful level but being disconnected and alone. It is not important whether one is physically on their own or surrounded by many others; I find I am often surrounded by people but still feel completely disconnected and lonely.

 Hannah Arendt

 

Isolation is different to loneliness as it represents a circumstance and not a feeling. It is a physical disconnection rather than an emotional one. During the Covid-19 lockdowns we were told we had to isolate, to keep ourselves to ourselves and to not spend time with others. Not being with others meant we were physically isolated. Our need for human connection was impacted. As social animals this caused us problems as it made us miserable and dysfunctional. The social cohesion that is the essence of our existence was impaired. Of course, we still had our mobiles, Instas and Facebooks, and along came Zoom, and whilst these provided a way to reduce the feelings arising from isolation, they were not a panacea for the quality and depth of human connection that can only be experienced in real life. Looking at someone's image on a screen or giving them a virtual hug can never replace a real gaze into their eyes or the tactile sensation of their warm embrace.

Solitude is a positive conscious choice. It maintains balance on the social interaction scale. I may go to a bunch of meetups, feel emotionally and physically fatigued as a result, and then choose to spend a couple of days on my own to rebuild my resources. I may equally choose to stay in on my own rather than go out as, on some occasions, I might just prefer my own company, have some thinking to do, want to watch something on TV, go on the internet or read something. Loneliness, on the other hand, is not a choice, and neither is isolation. It is entirely possible to be lonely but not isolated, and it is equally possible to be isolated but not feel lonely. I was at a social event surrounded by people a few nights ago but couldn't strike up conversation or establish any rapport with anyone at all and felt very lonely. I've just been writing this post for my blog over the past couple of hours and, despite there not being even a hint of human life visibly or audibly anywhere around me, have somehow not felt as lonely as I did earlier. I feel as if I am actually talking to you, the reader! I am experiencing the state of solitude rather than loneliness at this point in time.  

The subject of feeling alone and discombobulated (I've been dying to use that word in my blog since I started writing it!) at social events, and in life in general, came up at some psychotherapy sessions a few years ago. The therapist at the time suggested I try a technique which she described as having a conversation with an imaginary friend. She explained I should create a mental image of this illusory friend and actually talk to them out loud as if they were physically present. A question arises: isn't this the same as talking to oneself? To an observer, yes, it would appear no different. But if, in my mind, I am talking to someone else then I cannot be talking to myself. The fact that they don't exist doesn't change the fact that I am talking to them! Ok, it's a bit of a grey area! Maybe we can dissect it over a cup of tea. Who am I talking to now?

Spending Christmas on my own means doing so in isolation and for me it is a fundamentally lonely experience. However, the fuel tank is still half full (notice the optimism!) and so has some mileage to see me through a bit longer. Whatsmore, there is a smidgeon of respite from a bit of the loneliness which has been replaced by solitude: on the receiving end of this blog post I feel as if I have an imaginary reader who I am "talking" to. Perhaps my therapist wasn't cranky after all!

Notes And Reflections From Talk & Listen

As you will by now likely be aware, I set up and voluntarily run a peer support group (Talk & Listen) where people experiencing emotional difficulties can come to meet others in similar situations, talk through their issues and receive support in the form of feedback, reflection and empathic understanding through the others in the group and from myself. There are a few people that come regularly and there are always also some new people at every meeting. I usually have around ten people attending in total and they are generally different personalities, from different backgrounds and in fact the group is always very diverse drawing from all aspects of the protected characteristics of the Equalities Act 2010!

Everybody is welcome without any hesitation and I always try and ensure everyone feels safe and comfortable due to the nature of the group. It's a fairly fluid set up, apart from my introduction where I briefly outline some basic requirements and expectations in that the group works non-judgementally, that all personal aspects of the group remain confidential, that we are mindful and sensitive and that we try as much as possible to refrain from giving advice. I suggest that feedback can take the form of empathic reflection to make speakers who share their stories feel heard and understood or that it can be in the form of thoughts that can help the speaker with self-awareness and insight.

On the positive side, it mostly works well. Some people who share their feelings do get some good support and seem to really appreciate this although not everybody shares their issues at every meeting. I leave it optional for people depending on how they feel. On a less positive note, however, I have noticed that, occasionally, if someone is speaking I may switch off for a few seconds and my mind can wonder. I am not sure why this happens but I think in the main it's because I have so many anxieties of my own that my thoughts sporadically flick to them. Clearly this would be unacceptable in a one-to-one therapeutic relationship but even in a group it is not good. Somehow though, when I do find that I lose my concentration for a brief moment, I rely on most of the other people in the group to be listening and this takes a bit of the pressure off. It doesn't happen much though, but it is something I need to work towards reducing as much as possible.

I've reflected on the core counselling skills from a counselling course I've recently finished and have found that these are seeping into my peer support group. I am more aware of reflection, paraphrasing and challenging, for example, and this adds an additional, therapeutic angle to the group albeit not in any formal or advanced way, but at least it does sometimes help to generate greater insight for someone who may be sharing their story. Last week's meeting seemed particularly impactful on most of those that came along. On that day, three people shared some particularly distressing issues that were life-changing for them. One talked about his lack of connection with another group of people and explained that two people from that group had turned against him. He explained that he felt hurt and betrayed and lost as to what to do. His emotional pain was recognisable and, whilst he did not display any strong emotion during his sharing of his story, he did describe that he had been detrimentally affected by the experience.

A second person in the group described how his wife had become narcissistic and had "tried" to "destroy" him and their marriage. His love for their two young daughters is the only thing that stopped him from self-harm and potential suicide. He became visibly emotional during the recounting of his story and, as I write, I am finding that I am right now becoming emotional and tearful myself. I am finding it interesting to observe my own emotional reaction to that of someone else at a different place and time; it feels like I am experiencing his emotional pain in the here and now. It seems to me that human emotion is incredibly contagious (as it is for most animals, too), even when separated by space and time, unless one is detached from it through psychopathy or sociopathy.

The third person in the group who described another life-changing issue talked about her partner cheating on her, then making her feel like the guilty party as if it was because of her that he had been unfaithful, and the continual gaslighting that she had always endured but did not realise at the time. Despite this she was still with her partner and seemed to have a desire to try and make the relationship work. She too was visibly distressed. I tried to use my own abilities of empathic understanding to acknowledge how she felt but then attempted to make some use of techniques I picked up from when I was in counselling as well as techniques and skills picked up from my course, to question and challenge her values and beliefs. I really wanted her to see that she may have options that she had not considered or that she was too scared to face.

I desperately felt the need for her to be able to leave the peer support group at the end of the meeting with some tangible thoughts that would allow her some insight and self-reflection; I wanted her to be in a stronger position to make the right choices for herself. I did find myself building up some virtual hatred for her abusive husband, even though I'd never met him or heard his side of the story. I find this too an interesting observation, in that it does not seem humanly possible to remain detached from personal feelings that come up. I wonder whether this indicates internal congruence and authenticity in which case such a lack of detachment is perhaps not to be considered a bad thing. There may be a downside, however, in that persistent lack of detachment from big and strong emotions may lead to a build up of internal conflict, stress and anxiety.

Once we become aware of our internalised feelings, those that cause us distress in our current lives, we no longer need to act them out (in destructive, unhealthy ways). This is a concept that is dealt with and used extensively in psychodynamic therapy¹. It makes me wonder whether bringing the stories of the beholders at my peer group into their conscious awareness allows them to acknowledge their feelings and integrate them into the present, thereby achieving some level of catharsis of which the strong emotional response observed is a symptom.

¹ Counselling Directory, How is Psychodynamic Counselling Different to Psychoanalysis?, available at: https://www.counselling-directory.org.uk/memberarticles/psychodynamic-counselling-1; accessed on 21/11/2023