Art making as part of individual resilience (Edited)

“Painting and doing art both provide a space where the past and the present meet and dialogue, but also, ground us in the moment to moment experience of engaging with the activity” Tonya Alexandri

Today I am sharing a painting I have been recently working on and some ideas that I have jotted down during readings and “listenings” over these few weeks. These are ideas that have either resonated with me or have provided food for thought.

“The past is in the present; it’s in our neurobiology; impacting us even in our sleep…” Steven C. Haynes

“Childhoods shine through adult skin, helpfully or not.” Ian McEwan

“In recalling my childhood I like to picture myself as a beehive to which various simple obscure people brought the honey of their knowledge and thoughts on life, generously enriching my character with their own experience. Often this honey was dirty and bitter, but every scrap of knowledge was honey all the same.” (My Childhood, Maxim Gorky)

“If a child has the mental representation of the world as also good, this is an advantage. When children give up hope they close up; they are not receptive” Bruce Perry

“Recognise what’s true. Keep faith with what you know is true. It’s fundamental.” Rick Hanson

“I want to live in a place where strangers rush to help someone in distress.” Ian McEwan

“To be bound in a nutshell, see the world in two inches of ivory, in a grain of sand. Why not, when all of literature, all of art, of human endeavour, is just a speck in the universe of possible things. And even this universe may be a speck in a multitude of actual and possible universes.”  Ian McEwan

“The danger in any conversation about resilience, if it’s only individual, made personal, it ends up being a bypass of social conditions. I think of mindfulness [ability to know what’s happening as it is happening] as one powerful interpersonal resource that supports resilience.” David Treleaven

“Breath is not always neutral to people who carry trauma; it’s helpful to focus on a resourceful anchor of attention.” David Treleaven

In terms of polarization: “When we are in our window of tolerance [Dan Siegel] we can be more nuanced; we can be with complexity.” David Treleaven

“There’s a wonderful core; we need to allow that core to express itself… The education of humanity that we’re a good species… Propaganda is all about threat…” Stephen Porges

“Numbness of body is almost  a goal of our society. We pay a price for that. We get disease.” Stephen Porges

“Εγκλωβισμένοι πρωτίστως σ’ ένα πολιτικό «σου ‘πα – μου ‘πες» χωρίς αρχή, μέση και τέλος, είναι φυσικό επόμενο πλέον να αντιδρούμε σαν τα σκυλάκια του Παβλόφ και να μην αναγνωρίζουμε στον πολιτικό μας αντίπαλο καμία ανθρώπινη ιδιότητα, καμία δημόσια αρετή, κανένα ιδιωτικό χάρισμα. Δεν χρειάζεται να σου ανοίξουν την καρδιά και να σου την ξεσκονίσουν προκειμένου να πάρεις χαμπάρι ότι αυτός ο δρόμος δεν σε βγάζει πολύ μακριά.” (Τα Νέα, Πέτρος Τατσόπουλος, συγγραφέας)

Metaphors, trauma and self

“It wasn’t only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding; above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you.”  Ian McEwan

Α person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended” Ian McEwan

In today’s post I’ll be referring to a chapter from Bessel van der Kolk’s book The Body Keeps the Score: Mind, Brain and Body in the Transformation of Trauma, as well as, the Wellbeing podcast at: https://www.rickhanson.net/being-well-podcast-internal-family-systems-therapy-with-susan-mcconnell/. Both the chapter and the podcast focus on the nature of the self, ways to heal the aspects of ourself that carry trauma, and ways to facilitate psychological growth and harmony through the use of the Internal Family System (IFS) approach.

I began last week’s post with a quote from Bessel van der Kolk about our mind and self. I will continue this thread today and share a bit more from his relevant book chapter. He writes we are all made up from different parts, which are not just feelings, but distinct ways of being, with their own beliefs, agendas, and roles in the overall ecology of our lives. He claims that how well we actually get along with ourselves depends on our internal leadership skills, which practically involves our capacity to listen to our parts, make them feel safe and taken care of, and keep them from sabotaging one another. In this chapter Bessel van der Kolk quotes William James, who in 1890 wrote: “It must be admitted that … the total possible consciousness may be split into parts which coexist, but mutually ignore each other, and share the objects of knowledge between them.” He also refers to Carl Jung who wrote: “The psyche is a self-regulating system that maintains its equilibrium just as the body does….The natural state of the human psyche consists in a jostling together of its components and in their contradictory behavior….. The reconciliation of these opposites is a major problem. Thus, the adversary is none other than ‘the other in me.” Similarly, modern neuroscience has confirmed this notion of the mind as a kind of society. In the chapter there are some references to Michael Gazzaniga, who in his book The Social Brain (1985) wrote “But what of the idea that the self is not a unified being, and there may exist within us several realms of consciousness? … From our [split-brain] studies the new idea emerges that there are literally several selves, and they do not necessarily ‘converse’ with each other internally.” Additionally, MIT scientist Marvin Minsky claims that “The legend of the single self can only divert us from the target of that inquiry.  It can make sense to think there exists, inside your brain, a society of different minds. Like members of a family, the different minds can work together to help each other, each still having its own mental experiences that the others never know about.”

This information has many implications when it comes to healing trauma or deepening our knowing of self. B van der Kolk writes that during therapy professionals who are trained to see people as complex human beings with multiple characteristics and potentialities can help them explore their system of inner parts and take care of the wounded facets of themselves. Although there are several such treatment approaches, in this chapter there is emphasis on Richard Schwartz’s work, the developer of Internal Family Systems therapy (IFS), which according to B van der Kolk offers a systematic way to work with the split-off parts that result from trauma. He writes: “At the core of IFS is the notion that the mind of each of us is like a family in which the members have different levels of maturity, excitability, wisdom, and pain. The parts form a network or system in which change in any one part will affect all the others. The IFS model helped me realize that dissociation occurs on a continuum. In trauma the self-system breaks down, and parts of the self become polarized and go to war with one another. Self-loathing coexists (and fights) with grandiosity; loving care with hatred; numbing and passivity with rage and aggression. These extreme parts bear the burden of the trauma. In IFS a part is considered not just a passing emotional state or customary thought pattern, but a distinct mental system with its own history, abilities, needs, and worldview. Trauma injects parts with beliefs and emotions that hijack them out of their naturally valuable state. For example, we all have parts that are childlike and fun. When we are abused, these are the parts that are hurt the most, and they become frozen, carrying the pain, terror, and betrayal of abuse. This burden makes them toxic— parts of ourselves that we need to deny at all costs. Because they are locked away inside, IFS calls them the exiles. At this point other parts organize to protect the internal family from the exiles…… Critical and perfectionist managers can make sure we never get close to anyone or drive us to be relentlessly productive. Another group of protectors, which IFS calls firefighters, are emergency responders, acting impulsively whenever an experience triggers an exiled emotion….”

In brief, IFS recognizes that the cultivation of mindful self-leadership is the foundation for healing from trauma. Neuroscience research shows that this is not just a metaphor because mindfulness increases activation of the medial prefrontal cortex and decreases activation of the amygdala, for instance, that triggers our emotional responses. Therefore, mindfulness can increase our control over the emotional brain. Through mindfulness we can survey our internal landscape with compassion and curiosity and steer us in the right direction for self-care. As Bessel van der |Kolk says “all systems— families, organizations, or nations— can operate effectively only if they have clearly defined and competent leadership. The internal family is no different: All facets of our selves need to be attended to. The internal leader must wisely distribute the available resources and supply a vision for the whole that takes all the parts into account. For trauma survivors the internal system differs from the non-abuse system with regard to the consistent absence of effective leadership, the extreme rules under which the parts function, and the absence of consistent harmony.”

In the podcast mentioned above, Forrest Hanson and Susan McConnell, who developed the Somatic IFS approach, explore the nature of the self, Somatic Internal Family Systems – a form of IFS therapy that helps bring parts together as a unified self because as they clarify while we might experience ourselves as being one unified self most of the time, we all have different characters, sub-personalities or “parts” and our relationship with some parts is better than others. Among other things they discuss how using the body helps us to become aware of our parts and the benefits of somatic psychotherapy; the process of healing and unifying all aspects of ourself; common parts that we all tend to have. The general groups of identified parts in everyone are: the exiles, which are our young parts that have experienced trauma and have become isolated from the rest of the system in an effort to protect the individual from feeling the pain; however, unhealed and unintegrated experience can leave us feeling fragile and vulnerable. There are also the managers, which basically run the day-to-day life of the individual. They can often strive hard, terrorize and criticize in an attempt to control and protect. There are the “parts” that are called firefighters, which are those parts that in an attempt to protect react when memories are activated or when the need to speak up arises, in a desperate effort to control and extinguish these desires or feelings. These are the parts of the self that may use addictive strategies, for instance.

Protective parts have a function: to protect the self and support survival even if this often comes at a price. To use a metaphor mentioned in the podcast the protector parts of our self are in some sense like the guard dog/s that make sure no one breaks into the house and steals the baby, but often these “guard dogs” prevent younger aspects of ourself to heal and be restored to their original roles and purpose of fun loving and creativity. B van der Kolk explains that often children who act out their pain rather than locking it down are diagnosed with “oppositional defiant behavior,” “attachment disorder,” or “conduct disorder”, but these labels ignore the fact that rage or  / and withdrawal are only facets of their desperate attempts at survival. That’s why trying to control a child’s behavior while failing to address the underlying issue can be ineffective and even harmful. He also provides examples of adults, for instance, men he has worked with, with childhood abuse histories, who were unaware of the parts of the system that carried the burden of their traumas. In their attempt to keep their memories and pain at bay, they compulsively worked out and lived in a masculine culture of sweat, football, and beer, where weakness and fear were concealed.

Summarily, the basic assumptions of this model are: the nature of the mind to be subdivided into “sub-personalities” or “parts”; the goal of therapy or IFS work is not to eliminate parts, but instead to help them find their non-extreme roles and to achieve balance and harmony within our internal system and empowerment; “parts” of our self may be experienced as thoughts, feelings, sensations, images, and more; “parts” develop a complex system of interactions among themselves and polarizations develop as parts try to gain influence within the system for various reasons, such as, conditioning and trauma; while experiences affect parts, parts are always in existence, either as potential or actuality. Apart from the totality of our parts, which compose the self, a different level of self, one could say, which in the IFS model is termed Self with a capital S always exists in everyone, even if buried by trauma, experiences and socialization. When the Self is not in charge, then according to IFS the Self identifies with a part, instead of being aware that only a part of me gets triggered when something happens. This is termed as “blending”.

When the Self leads the internal system we have a sense of being centred and grounded, competent, secure, self assured, calm, relaxed, compassionate. When the Self is in the lead, all our parts will exist and lend talents that reflect their non-extreme intentions. During the podcast a useful car metaphor was used to describe this. They mentioned that it is wise for the Self to be driving the car and calling the shots in one’s life, instead of the Self being in the back seat with tape over its mouth. In terms of the Self, Schwartz claims that this Self does not need to be cultivated because beneath the surface of the various protective parts there exists an undamaged essence, a Self that is confident, curious, calm, and has been sheltered from destruction by our protective aspects that have emerged in their effort to ensure survival.

Trauma across species

 “The mind is a mosaic. We all have parts. Right now a part of me feels like taking a nap; another part wants to keep writing. Still feeling injured by an offensive e-mail message, a part of me wants to hit “reply” on a stinging put-down, while a different part wants to shrug it off. Most people who know me have seen my intense, sincere, and irritable parts; some have met the little snarling dog that lives inside me. My children reminisce about going on family vacations with my playful and adventurous parts” (The Body Keeps the Score: Mind, Brain and Body in the Transformation of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk – psychiatrist, author, researcher and trauma therapist)

«Το κακοποιημένο σκυλί μοιάζει επιθετικό και φοβισμένο μαζί» ( Ένα Πεινασμένο Στόμα – Λένα Διβάνη, ιστορικός και συγγραφέας)

In the previous post I referred to our interconnectedness with other animal species, especially mammals, and things we may have in common. One thing we seem to share is our defense mechanisms to trauma and our post traumatic responses.  Animal models from animal research, which probably raises some ethical questions, provides evidence that suggests that animal models mimic core aspects of human post traumatic stress experiences including individual differences in susceptibility to certain stressors, hippocampal changes, fear dysregulation, avoidance and hyperarousal, frequent startle responses, and so on. And even though these animal models do not capture the complexity of our human experience they further our understanding of the neuronal mechanisms responsible for post traumatic symptomatology and behaviours.

There is research evidence and literature that support that dogs are affected with canine PTSD, but anyone who has adopted or taken care of strays or wounded animals understands that trauma and abuse leave long term scars on animals, too. Some potential causes for canine PTSD symptomatology are: service and work in high stress situations like war zones and natural disaster contexts, being raised in a puppy mill, severe abuse, living as a stray after being abandoned, trauma from a disaster (floods, fires, earthquakes, etc), being attacked by other dogs, and so on. The symptoms of PTSD in dogs are similar to those in humans and can typically, include aggression, chronic anxiety and hypervigilance, avoidance of certain people, places or situations, eating and sleep disturbances, fear of being alone. For cats the stress may manifest as aggression, temperamental changes, pacing constantly, trembling and being easily startled, howling, losing appetite or hiding for long periods of time.

The dog in the photo above was called Scruffy and when he was about two we adopted him from a shelter that was nothing more than a small fenced area, where a volunteer was trying to keep countless dogs alive through food donations. There were no kennels or any other amenities in place, and one of the reasons we adopted him was that I felt pretty sure he wouldn’t last long within the packs of larger and more aggressive dogs. Although we were a little reluctant to get a new dog because within the span of a year or so we had lost two dogs, one to old age and the new one to poisoning, his honey coloured pleading eyes broke down my defenses and intentions. It seemed that he and I bonded immediately. When we adopted him I hadn’t started studying psychology yet, but one didn’t need any special knowledge to understand that this creature was terrified out of its true nature and capacity. Scruffy inhabited a state of constant fear, and it was obvious that he would need a lot of patience and love to recover and if possible forget what had reduced him to this state. He was terrified of everything from furniture to walking in the street, to other animals. He couldn’t eat properly, but filled his mouth with as much food as he could cram in and then struggled to swallow it, a remnant response of his effort to get hold of food as fast as possible in the shelter. And for over a year we had assumed he was mute because he never barked.

Literature suggests that the best ways to manage PTSD in dogs would be a combination of behavioral therapy and medication. Behavioral interventions might include desensitization therapy, in which a dog is exposed to low levels of a particular stressor to build tolerance for a particular stimulus, playtime with another socialized dog, exercise, time and patience and the support of a vet. Apart from the typical health care support from our vet Scruffy healed through a lot of love, patience, care, inclusion in family activities, and a lot of brushing and stroking, which probably benefited me as well. In relation to stroking Patricia B. McConnell, ethologist, animal behaviorist, zoologist and author, claims that “Even in the best of times, when we’re not stressed or needy, many of us enjoy petting our dogs as much as any other aspect of dog ownership. This is not a trivial need. Quiet stroking can significantly change your body’s physiology, lowering your heart rate and blood pressure. It releases endogenous opiates, or internal chemicals that calm and soothe us and play a significant role in good health. Lucky for us, most of our dogs adore being touched.”

From reluctantly taking a few steps, and mostly crawling on the road outside our house, Scruffy evolved into an avid walker and fast sprinter. And after over a year of total silence a visiting friend’s noisy dog that barked a lot made it possible for him to reclaim his bark. His original beautiful shaggy coat was also revealed after much washing and brushing. Scruffy taught us that even though love and care cannot undo all wounding it does heal and give back power and potential, and I often think that our love may have even contributed to his longevity. Patricia Mc Connell writes: “Don’t feel like a failure if you can’t make a social butterfly out of the dog you rescued from a nightmarish beginning. Giving him a kind, loving home and helping him to relax enough to nap in your lap are achievements in their own right.” Scruffy never became a fearless dog like the bossy puppy we adopted a few years later that displayed leadership qualities very early on, but he evolved into a beautiful dog and a gentle, loving companion. The bond that was formed between this dog and us, especially me, was a gift. Taking him into our family gifted us all with many moments of joy and pleasurable experiences, and above all, gave him the opportunity to live a happy protected life into old age. He was at least seventeen years old when he peacefully passed away in his sleep.

Our dogs give us the opportunity to experience deep connection to another species, and also, to be aware of the truth that we are interconnected to the natural world and the myriads of species that cohabit this planet. They teach us a lot about our own conditioning, emotions and psychological defenses. Patricia McConnell  writes: “We humans may be brilliant and we may be special, but we are still connected to the rest of life. No one reminds us of this better than our dogs. Perhaps the human condition will always include attempts to remind ourselves that we are separate from the rest of the natural world. We are different from other animals; it’s undeniably true. But while acknowledging that, we must acknowledge another truth, the truth that we are also the same. That is what dogs and their emotions give us – a connection. A connection to life on earth, to all that binds and cradles us, lest we begin to feel too alone. Dogs are our bridge – our connection to who we really are, and most tellingly, who we want to be. When we call them home to us, it’s as if we are calling for home itself.”

**The cat in the photo is from Εγώ ο Ζάχος Ζάχαρης, a book written by Lena Divani, historian and writer. It is in some sense her cat’s memoir.