Imprints  (edited)

To my friends by Primo Levi

Each of us bears the imprint   /     Of a friend met along the way; /  In each the trace of each.

For good or evil   /  In wisdom or in folly    /   Everyone stamped by everyone.

Today’s post was intended to be on the importance of play for children and its connection to resilience, but during the process of searching for articles online I came across an interview in which the actress, Sally Field, was discussing her memoir, In Pieces, published in 2018, the result of a seven year process of writing, revisiting her traumatic childhood and her ways of responding or reacting and defending against her traumas – a lengthy process of digging and integrating that began after her mother’s death. About her mother and the women in her family she writes: “All of them with wounds that wouldn’t heal because no one acknowledged they were bleeding, and yet each of them needing the other to be near. And that—I realize—is how this story fits into my life. These generations of women, weaving a pattern into a lifelong garment, unconsciously handed down from mother to daughter to granddaughter to me.”  I decided to listen because trauma and artistic expression both interest me and are the backbone of this website, and also, because Sally Field has been one of my favourite actresses since early on. My first encounter with her was through a sitcom initially aired in the late sixties, called The Flying Nun. My next encounter was probably when I watched her movie Norma Rae in the early eighties. Ι shed some tears during the viewing of the film both because I could relate to some aspects of the story and because Sally Field’s performance  was so powerful.

The talk about her book led to a different post and a desire to read the book, but I’ve left that for later in order to finish reading several books I have started this summer and have not completed yet. However, I did read samples of chapters. Field describes how she defended against the traumatic events and emotional pain through suppression and dissociation. She writes: “Over the years, I slowly created a place where I could toss all the feelings I didn’t understand, or the ones I didn’t want to understand, was afraid of…….. Emotions that many times came to me as physical sensations without words, like the uncomfortable fingernails on the blackboard inside me. Instead of trying to verbalize what I was feeling, even to myself, I’d shove them away. I would pack them up and send those parts of me out the window to stay safe with the tree, while only one piece remained, muted and dulled, though dutifully performing the required tasks.”  Dissociation and denial help us survive, not fall apart and get on with living. As Stephen Porges says when we are unable to flee or defend ourselves we move into a shutdown or dissociative state. This happens because our sympathetic nervous system increases activity, and our parasympathetic (unmyelinated vagus nerve) decreases activity. When we are unable to defend ourselves via our wired in fight/flight responses, we physiologically shift into another line of defense via our unmyelinated vagus nerve. We mimic our reptilian ancestors by shutting down to conserve energy, increasing pain thresholds and altering our consciousness level. We are also wired to avoid pain and unpleasant feelings. In addition, most of us are culturally conditioned to suppress emotions. In Pieces, Sally Field writes: “How can you change who you are and learn what it takes to get up, over and over, if you can’t allow yourself to feel how much it hurts to be knocked down?” It feels safer and more comfortable to hide our wounds and emotions, but when people find the courage to show us how they’ve been cut to pieces and how they have journeyed back to wholeness, this opens up our understanding not only of trauma and its after effects, but also ways to heal and come together again.

And then, well I went on to view a few episodes of The Flying Nun through more mature eyes. And even though many of the themes and plots had not been erased from memory by time I felt I wanted to briefly revisit the series and see what it was really all about…. from an adult perspective.  Sister Bertrille, played by a very young Sally Field, is a young novice nun, the black sheep of a family of physicians, who has become a nun after the break up with her boyfriend. She wears a large, starched cornette (hat), which together with her slight frame and the windy climate of the Caribbean island where the convent is situated, contribute to her new found flying ability. However, she upsets more rules than the law of gravity, and so, she occasionally gets into conflict with the mother superior, but their conflicts are more on the superficial side and get resolved quickly. Social issues are mildly touched upon and the nuns run an orphanage and a hospital for the elderly, and thus, many episodes revolve around Sister Bertrille’s more and less successful efforts to raise money to pay mounting bills, replace the falling apart and painted mauve station wagon, build a school for the orphans and other good causes.

Episode themes and plots include: looking after a talking parrot, babysitting the casino and night club owner’s pet monkey who has become her friend, a casino robbery, getting into trouble with army and police officers through misunderstandings and flights that don’t always end up well, her near appearance in a TV detergent commercial, fatal hibiscus allergies, failed bread and wine turned to vinegar business ventures, a breakaway monk, a psychologist priest who is in doubt of the sanity of the nuns, an ear infestion that causes her to spin and hinders safe landing, little Tonio, who believes she is his deceased mother, jumping into the water to save a drowning bishop who falls off a yacht, creating snow in summer, rescuing a hawk’s eggs and being mistaken as a UFO, flying through a window pane, playing cards – a habit she picked up in prison after being arrested during a free-speech rally, and her progressive and original ways of teaching the orphans in the convent.

One way of understanding this sitcom and several others is through the lens of  the societal shifts that were taking place during that era and the available discourse, and also, the role of mainstream media in influencing people’s beliefs and behaviour. In her article in the Canadian Review of American Studies, 31, no. 2, 2001, Gidget Goes to the Convent: Taking the Veil as a Girl’s Adventure in The Flying Nun, Rebecca Sullivan, who specializes in feminist media and cultural studies and analyzes popular cultural representations, and media, political, and legal frameworks that circumscribe women’s agency and bodily integrity in the public sphere, examines The Flying Nun through the lens of post-war American girl culture and convent culture during the 1950s and 1960s in an attempt to link the discourses of femininity with the ideologies of feminization as they related to girls and religion. The 1950s to 1970s in Northern America was a time of social and political changes. Individualism, the emergence of a feminist movement and changes within the Catholic Church were taking place. Nuns removed their habits and fought for social justice and they became present in the mainstream media. Sullivan discusses how in the 1950s and 1960s the majority of new religious vocations were made by teenage girls, usually right after high school and that for Catholic girls, the convent could have been perceived as an option for an adventurous life away from middle American suburbs, but without actually crossing any boundaries of ‘proper’ femininity. She suggests that the association of a vocation and a life of service with adventure and romance was reinforced by religious sisters.

Sullivan writes that “American women religious were experiencing unprecedented liberty and, along with that, confusion as they underwent an intense period of reflection and renewal during these two decades. This period began in 1951 with the Call for Renewal initiated by Pius XII and continued beyond the Second Vatican Council from 1962–1965. Denied any decision-making authority and banished from voting privileges in the Vatican hierarchy, women religious were nonetheless crucial to the implementation of the new attitudes of matching spiritual fortitude with social justice. They were the ones who implemented many of the experiments and tested the limits of reform. Furthermore, they were teaching the next generation of Catholics, inspiring girls to consider joining a convent themselves. A central aspect of the Catholic modernization movement was to embrace popular culture and the media in order to communicate their faith and morality to a mass audience……. Many women religious were instrumental at this level, particularly in the fields of popular music and…… However, the most important medium of the era seemed too far from their grasp. Television was too expensive and, in many congregations, wasn’t even allowed.” She explains that television producer Harry Ackerman’s idea to turn a girls’ storybook, The Fifteenth Pelican, by Tere Rios into a sitcom was welcome because it could target the market of teenage girls, a demographic that was becoming increasingly important economically, politically and religiously.

So, my getting distracted and shifting my attention to different topics allowed for a trip down memory lane and new meaning making of old and more recent experiences and choices, as well as, acquisition of knowledge and a bigger picture perspective.

“I would rather have questions that can’t be answered than answers that can’t be questioned.”  Richard Feynman

We fool ourselves that something is right for all sorts of reasons – because it is comfortable to do so, because we’ve been conditioned to do so, because others think so, because it is fashionable to do so.’  Jeaneane Fowler

Although there are a couple of days to go before summer ends, the fig tree outside the bathroom window has already signaled the end of summer and the arrival of autumn. Fig leaves are always the first to change colour in my garden. They turn bright yellow at first, but soon dark ocher and light brown crisper versions litter the ground. They are the first to fall long before other deciduous trees shed their foliage. As we go through cycles of life and seasons end things re-emerge to be remembered, re-felt and re-evaluated, and through this process they too are changed or shed. The end of a season and the passing of time often transform our relationship with and capacity to hold experiences. The arrival of autumn is always registered in my physiology. A pause is often imposed upon me. Returning to the body as a whole during meditation connects me to my embodiment and aliveness.

Resting our attention on the body as a whole and being aware of all the sensations that run through our body at any given moment can create a sense of wholeness. In this week’s newsletter, Just One Thing, Rick Hanson discusses the experience of bodily wholeness, and also, provides steps of going about this kind of practice. He suggests we try paying attention to our breathing and to sensations in our whole body during meditation and while doing everyday activities like walking, housework, sitting, and so on.  He writes: “Try to be aware of all the sensations of breathing in the torso, all of them present in consciousness as a unified whole, moment by moment. Let attention widen and soften to receive the whole torso as a single percept….. Next, open to a larger whole: all of the sensations of breathing throughout the body, appearing all together in awareness breath after breath. Then, see if you can go all the way out to include all body sensations, not just those of breathing…… experiencing your body as a whole – as a single, unified gestalt in awareness, with all its sensations appearing together at once – activates networks on the sides of your brain. These lateral networks pull you out of the planning, worrying, obsessing, fantasizing, and self-referential thinking – “me, myself, and I” – that’s driven by another neural network in the middle of the brain. Consequently, abiding as the whole body draws you into the present moment, reduces stress, increases mindfulness….”

Autumn is the season that brings my embodiment to the foreground, as well as, questions asked by humans since antiquity, my own asking and the memory of suppression and oppression.  Questions about our human nature and life ­, and questions like: ‘How can I know what is true?’, ‘How can I live a meaningful life?’, ‘How should I treat others?’’, ‘What is my place in this world?’, ‘What kind of world do I want?’, ‘What responsibilities do individual capabilities bring?, ‘How do our beliefs support us and others in creating fulfilling lives and which beliefs foster more equality and freedom for all?’ We start asking questions early on, but often our curiosity and explorative nature is boxed or crushed by more or less stifling sociocultural contexts. Many diverse religious and non-religious worldviews have attempted to provide answers to questions like these and all of us in our own quiet hours have also probably tried to make some sense out of this business of living on this tiny planet in an infinite universe. We have probably all marveled and even felt a bit intimidated by the fact that we are part of something unimaginably enormous. The visible universe alone contains over 100 billion galaxies, which is humbling, and also, diminishes the argument that it was built for human beings.

Embodiment and mental activities like questioning and thinking are parts of the same whole. Our personalities are located in, and dependent on, our physical brains and our mental life is inevitably dependent on our brains and bodies. Our conscious experiences are accommodated within the physical world. Most of us accept the scientific findings that mental properties are dependent on brain activity, for without it, all signs of conscious life are absent. As Hugh Mellor, writes ‘… not only the nature but the very existence of our conscious experiences depends on our having bodies. All the evidence of our own and other people’s lives overwhelmingly implies this… I see nothing… which shows that mental properties… can be possessed by anything which does not have a body.’ On a similar note Bertrand Russell wrote: ‘All the evidence goes to show that what we regard as our mental life is bound up with brain structure and organized bodily energy. Therefore it is rational to suppose that mental life ceases when bodily life ceases. The argument is only one of probability, but it is as strong as those upon which most scientific conclusions are based….”

As I’ve lately been reading texts about how a humanist perspective  might answer questions like the ones mentioned above I thought I might include an extract from a passage from the Humanist Association of Ireland in this post:

“We respect the right to privacy. Mature adults should be able to exercise reproductive freedom, to have access to comprehensive and informed healthcare and to die with dignity. We believe in the common moral decencies: altruism, integrity, honesty, truthfulness, responsibility…… We want to protect and enhance the earth, to preserve it for future generations, and to avoid inflicting needless suffering on other species….. We attempt to transcend any divisive parochial loyalties based on race, religion, gender, nationality, creed, class, sexual orientation or ethnicity, and strive to work together for the common good of humanity. We believe in individual happiness; in developing our creative talents to their fullest, and in the realisation of the best that we are capable of as human beings. We are deeply concerned with the moral education of children. We want to nourish reason and compassion. We are engaged by the arts no less than by the sciences. We are skeptical of untested claims to knowledge, but we are open to new ideas and seek new departures in our thinking….”

Seeking new departures in our thinking as a result of new experiences, observation and learning might be uncomfortable, but essential, if we want to know more about our personal and collective reality and transcend divisive loyalties. Also, recognising that there is a possibility of our beliefs being mistaken involves being able to employ skepticism when necessary. Reasonable doses of skepticism allow us to accept that we are all prone to biases and error, particularly, when it comes to answering the bigger questions. It encourages us to subject beliefs to critical scrutiny and allows us to question authority and prescribed ways of living or believing, and urges us to learn more. Also, beliefs are often time bound, politically informed, contain biases, and serve economic interests and agendas. So, being somewhat skeptical is as important as being courageous enough to embrace some uncertainty and the fact that as a species we may never know it all. The human brain, thus far and in many years to come, may simply not evolve to that point where it can  answer questions like ‘How did this ultimately all begin?’ with absolute certainty.

From this place of awareness of our limitations and fallibility we are perhaps less invested in bullying and persecuting people that hold different beliefs form our own. Instead we could work towards creating a good life to the best of our ability, while fostering others’ intentions to do so as well, knowing beyond doubt that as a species we universally don’t desire hunger and poverty. We all want a warm bed and a roof over our head and the possibility to educate our children and provide for them. We don’t want to experience violence, war and strife or prejudice. We want joy and love and supportive circumstances to aspire and to thrive. We want to feel safe and free to think and express our ideas.  So, what if instead of killing each other over our diverse belief systems often prone to revision and error, we built bridges among us based on the things we know for certain.

Summer activities

It’s you I like  /  It’s not the things you wear,
It’s not the way you do your hair   /   But it’s you I like
The way you are right now  /   The way down deep inside you
Not the things that hide you   /   Not your toys   /   They’re just beside you                                                     But it’s you I like   /  Every part of you
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings   /  Whether old or new
I hope that you’ll remember    /   Even when you’re feeling blue
That it’s you I like  /  It’s you yourself  /  It’s you
It’s you I like         (Written by Fred Rogers, 1971)

Over this last week I’ve been painting the portrait I am posting today, listening to a lifelong deep urge to do art for the sake of simply doing it, and also, for the healing of my body and psyche. In some sense it is a meditative practice and every brush stroke brings me back home to me. In Pictures of a Childhood Alice Miller explored the connection between childhood and that creative activity, which ‘somehow permits us to give form to the chaos within and thereby master our anxiety’. She also traced trauma in creativity and wrote about the roots of creativity in the authentic self’s struggle for survival. I have also been to the open summer cinema this week to watch “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” written by Micah Fitzerman-Blue and Noah Harpster, and directed by Marielle Heller. Watching a film on a big screen in an open space with sprawling bougainvillea vines under the stars is always a treat for me.

The story is based on a 1998 magazine profile of both the off camera Fred Rogers and his television persona by Tom Junod; however, it’s not a biopic, even though it refers to Mr Rogers’ work in children’s television. It is primarily a story about the friendship that develops between Mister Rogers and Lloyd Vogel, the jaded journalist, who is assigned to profile this television icon and tries to break through what he considers to be a veneer of decency and kindness in order to find the true person behind it. However, the encounter proves transformative for him as he is compassionately guided in letting go of unmetabolized hurt and resentment and in becoming more emotionally responsive and a more involved father. We watch the character development and growth of Lloyd as the film unrolls.

The story aside, one could say it is a film about kindness, integrity, friendship, compassion, the art of listening to others, creating a sense of possibility and transformation, emotional intelligence and teaching children (and adults) the importance of recognizing, feeling, discussing and dealing with emotions in empowered ways, Mister Rogers encourages children (and adults) to talk and think about their feelings, and he de-stigmatizes the way we express or discuss painful emotions by normalizing the fact that there is suffering and pain in life and it is okay to talk about it because anything that can be talked about can be managed. He suggests ways of consciously practising kindness and calm and dealing with emotions, such as, pain, anger, loneliness, frustration, and death, in non destructive ways like pounding a lump of clay, doing a physical activity like running or racing, going swimming, thumping on the low notes of a piano.

Mr Rogers, played by Tom Hanks, seems to have a gift of sensing other people’s distress or unhappiness, but he moves beyond sensing and feeling to compassionate action. He uses practices and interventions to help others. He believes that when adults are able to remember their own childhoods they are better able to hold space for their children’s and others’ emotional reality, and also, manage their own emotions because through being in touch with our past and present emotional experience we can stay connected to our empathy and vulnerability, which foster maturation and more compassionate and intelligent relational interactions.

In order to survive his painful childhood and move on in life, Lloyd Vogel, played by Matthew Rhys. has closed off certain painful emotions and has become cynical, but through compassionate involvement and thoughtful questions, Mister Rogers creates a safe relational container for his friend to move through and beyond the walls of hurt and to evolve to a less defended and more forgiving and responsive human.  At some point he says: ‘Look at us—I’ve just met you, but I’m investing in who you are and who you will be, and I can’t help it.’ He introduces Lloyd to the puppets he uses in the show and asks him to remember the first toy animal he had as a child, Old Rabbit, as a means to breaking barriers of numbness and cynicism and getting him to reconnect to his inner child or younger aspects of self who are burdened with emotions and pain. His puppet, Daniel Striped Tiger, is an evocation of Mister Roger’s childhood feelings of insecurity. Mr. Rogers mentions in the film that he was bullied and picked on as a chubby kid and was called “fat Freddie”, His puppet King Friday XIII, seems to represent that adult attitude of always getting one’s way, which may not always be the  wise or kind way. Adults may not always have the right answers or solutions and they too make mistakes and they definitely need help. There is a scene in the film where Mr Rogers fails to put up a tent, but rather than shooting another scene he decides that his failure is the important lesson. He explains to Lloyd that “it’s important for children to know that adults’ plans don’t always work out.”

As one watches the film it becomes apparent that Mr. Rogers is not only present, attentive and insightful, but he is also psychologically informed. He uses a kind of probing influenced by the Socratic method perhaps or emotions maieutics, to use a Greek term, to help Lloyd tap into old festering wounds so that he may feel, understand, and finally, be able to let go of pent up rage and grief. Through an empathic confronting of the past and self examination Mr Rogers guides Lloyd to reconciliation with his father and the past and greater emotional maturation. Another important value and experience that Mr Rogers encourages is acceptance of everyone’s inherent worth and non negotiable value. He wants children to know that they are loved no matter what and that they are loved for who they are deep inside. His intention and hope is for adults to ‘appreciate children for what they are, not for what they will be’, and that in order to relate to their children, adults should recall their own childhoods.

He also encourages people to experience themselves in the small silences between busyness and activity. There’s a restaurant scene in which Mr Rogers asks Lloyd to do a one minute practice with him, which involves remaining silent and reflecting on all the people who “loved him into being” or made him who he is; this might include the people who have hurt us. Research has shown that human beings have a survival-related negativity bias, which practically means more brain activity and energy are dedicated to registering and responding to negative experiences and anticipating what might go wrong than to the positive in our lives. And this is too often reinforced by an outer world, which constantly reminds us of the ways that we come up short, or all the reasons to feel threatened. Research has also found that having felt experiences of being loved and supported influences our physical and psychological well-being in a positive manner. So, by directing our attention to those who have loved and  / or supported us we build up resilience and inner resources.  By taking in the good and savoring it, as Rick Hanson, says, we build up the neural circuitry of resilience and goodness drop by drop.