This past weekend, Joy and I flew to Boston for the wedding of Taylor Horner and Elizabeth Robinson. Without a doubt, it goes straight to the top of the list for Best Wedding Ever, well, at least of the ones I’ve been to. I’m not sure if it takes the absolute prize above other great weddings (it’s hard for any one to be the definitive best), but there was one moment during the reception that I leaned over to Joy as we were eating our butternut squash soup out of baked miniature pumpkins and asked, “Are you enjoying this wedding more than you enjoyed ours? Because I sure am.”
But jokes aside, there were many things that made this wedding special: the fact that it was my first experience being best man (and, in fact, I shared this honor with the esteemed Kevin LaMar Welty), the fact that this was a wedding in the heart of my favorite American city, and the fact that there was a wedding-perfect jazz band playing at the reception (set in an absolutely gorgeous multi-room ballroom, echoing with nuance and sophistication characteristic of early 20th century Boston and its distinct yet approachable refined elegance and gilded art—think “Great Gatsby” without the steroids). All in all, it was one of those rare moments when all that is good and beautiful comes together in some way that is divine and sacred. A little piece of heaven: a celebration of love and beauty that is accented with laughter, friendship, and straight-up joy and dancing.
Anyone who knows me knows that Taylor and I have a unique relationship, and it was a pleasure to spend time with him during the days preceding his wedding. As unassuming as one could ever anticipate in those final 48 hours, Taylor was thoughtful and calm, prepared yet not, and interested in a lot more than just himself and his wedding day. Because of a late night the evening before the wedding, I ended up staying with Taylor in his apartment rather than find my way back to where I was staying for the weekend. Taylor and I talked for a couple of hours into the early morning, and I was reminded of the dozens of times we’d done similarly, with conversations that layered the foundation and established the depth of our relationship. This evening was no different. It wasn’t cluttered with Taylor ruminating over wedding details or clichéd examinations of his imminent future (something I would surely be prone to), but carried the same amount of humility and sensitivity I’ve come to simply expect. Taylor asked me about my new life in Ohio, my academic program, and my life with Joy. He asked about his god-dog, Colby, and we chatted about professional and personal goals. Except for a few moments, the conversation might as well have been happening on any other night in our lives, because Taylor avoids unnecessary ballyhoo.
On the day of the wedding, Taylor and stopped by his favorite coffee shop for some hazelnut lattes. With all of the grand and beautiful events of the weekend, that moment stands out in its quietness and simplicity. While I don’t get to see Taylor in person as much as I once did, those moments remind me of how many unique friendships have formed the core of much of who I am today, and for Taylor to give me such valuable time on his wedding day gives me reason to pause.
The rehearsal dinner was delightful, and the wedding itself was rapturous. The others at the wedding made for hearty laughter, and we danced wildly as the jazz flowed under a glistening ballroom. And on one rainy Sunday afternoon, Taylor and I went out and got lattes. All told, it was as divine and special as a wedding weekend could ever be.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 08, 2008
Why I Do Wilderness Therapy
It was just about a month ago now that I was staffed on a wilderness therapy trip with my former internship site. Anyone who knows me knows that I love wilderness therapy. It's one of those rare things that combines all sorts of my varied passions and feels wonderfully natural and authentic. Doing therapy in an office is fine, but doing therapy under the stars or next to the water brings a whole new element of beauty and healing.
I purposely sought out my internship site due to their leadership in the field of wilderness therapy, particularly since it's so rare in the Midwest. As I went into my internship, I was hoping to simply learn about the modality, with my high goal to get on a trip. Well, I did a spring break kayaking trip to Lake Powell, Utah, which was definitively the highlight of my clinical experiences thus far. Somehow, they liked me enough to let me keep the connection going, and in June I went on a weekend trip with the same clients from the Utah trip. And now that my internship is over, I actually get paid for it all, which isn't so bad.
The clients that we took on this trip were not actually clients from the agency, but from a residential facility for boys who aren't living with their families for a variety of reasons. This was a week-long trip in Wisconsin, where the first five days were spent in the northern part of the state, doing a little white-water canoeing on the not-so-grand Flambeau River and the last few days rock-climbing and hiking in Devils Lake State Park. Indeed, there are always funny moments while interacting with adolescents ("So, if Adam and Eve hadn't eaten that apple, we'd all be walking around naked right now? Man, that'd be awesome!") and they even got me to develop my rapping skills. After my second time at freesytling, one kid even said, "Yo, theater rap is gonna be the next big thing! Ya smell me! I love theater rap!"
The six boys on our trip ranged in age from 14-16, and each impressed me with their ability to challenge themselves, encourage each other, and learn something about community. These are young men who have painful stories, distrust for others, and are surrounded by relationships that are instable at best and abusive at worst.
At the beginning of most of our meals, we gave the two boys who were on the Cook Team a quote and question book, where they could choose one question to ask the group and/or a quote to stimulate conversation. (I was in charge of all the food, so they were my team! Each day there was also a Boat/Water Team and a Camp Team and the boys rotated each day.) The quesitons range from those that are completely non-threatening ("If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?") to those that inspire intimacy and vulnerability. The first two guys stepped right up to the plate, and chose a rather revealing multiple-choice question:
My parents spent: too much time with me, enough time with me, not enough time with me.
Each boy then went around and answered the question with striking honesty and sincerity, especially considering how early it was in the trip. We sat around the campfire and each one talked about their mom or dad, their grandma or caregiver. While such insightful moments did not permeate every moment of the trip, the boys addressed some of their goals, their challenges, and their fears, both emotional and physical.
These are boys who have seen violence on the streetcorners of Chicago and, more often, inside their own homes. These are boys who have no problem defying authority, because authority only represents abused power and personal disregard. These are boys who can laugh one minute and be triggered to swearing and violence the next because a joke went just a little too far. At one campsite, there was an opportunity for us to teach the boys how to walk through rapids and then swim through an open area with some mild rapids. There are skills involved in doing this for anyone, but for these boys, it was as if they were climbing Everest. Some were shaking, some were close to tears, and each one of them was stripped away from the facades that bring them a sense of security and safety. And when each one of them crossed the river and then swam down the rapids, there was a permeating joy and clear sense of accomplishment. You could see what I might call the authentic self coming through, and it was beautiful.
These are the moments I love about wilderness therapy that simply don't happen within four walls. The natural elements meet each of us in a different way, but they do meet us, and even if we are resistant to being known or letting our guard down, they continue to press us to know ourselves as a part of something bigger than we could previously imagine. For me, it always comes down to relationships, and the way in which relationships can be used to foster healing. This is why I am a therapist, and this is why I continue to work with adolescents, because they ask the tough questions in the midst of the enormity of identity development. And, of course, they also let me rap.
I purposely sought out my internship site due to their leadership in the field of wilderness therapy, particularly since it's so rare in the Midwest. As I went into my internship, I was hoping to simply learn about the modality, with my high goal to get on a trip. Well, I did a spring break kayaking trip to Lake Powell, Utah, which was definitively the highlight of my clinical experiences thus far. Somehow, they liked me enough to let me keep the connection going, and in June I went on a weekend trip with the same clients from the Utah trip. And now that my internship is over, I actually get paid for it all, which isn't so bad.
The clients that we took on this trip were not actually clients from the agency, but from a residential facility for boys who aren't living with their families for a variety of reasons. This was a week-long trip in Wisconsin, where the first five days were spent in the northern part of the state, doing a little white-water canoeing on the not-so-grand Flambeau River and the last few days rock-climbing and hiking in Devils Lake State Park. Indeed, there are always funny moments while interacting with adolescents ("So, if Adam and Eve hadn't eaten that apple, we'd all be walking around naked right now? Man, that'd be awesome!") and they even got me to develop my rapping skills. After my second time at freesytling, one kid even said, "Yo, theater rap is gonna be the next big thing! Ya smell me! I love theater rap!"
The six boys on our trip ranged in age from 14-16, and each impressed me with their ability to challenge themselves, encourage each other, and learn something about community. These are young men who have painful stories, distrust for others, and are surrounded by relationships that are instable at best and abusive at worst.
At the beginning of most of our meals, we gave the two boys who were on the Cook Team a quote and question book, where they could choose one question to ask the group and/or a quote to stimulate conversation. (I was in charge of all the food, so they were my team! Each day there was also a Boat/Water Team and a Camp Team and the boys rotated each day.) The quesitons range from those that are completely non-threatening ("If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?") to those that inspire intimacy and vulnerability. The first two guys stepped right up to the plate, and chose a rather revealing multiple-choice question:
My parents spent: too much time with me, enough time with me, not enough time with me.
Each boy then went around and answered the question with striking honesty and sincerity, especially considering how early it was in the trip. We sat around the campfire and each one talked about their mom or dad, their grandma or caregiver. While such insightful moments did not permeate every moment of the trip, the boys addressed some of their goals, their challenges, and their fears, both emotional and physical.
These are boys who have seen violence on the streetcorners of Chicago and, more often, inside their own homes. These are boys who have no problem defying authority, because authority only represents abused power and personal disregard. These are boys who can laugh one minute and be triggered to swearing and violence the next because a joke went just a little too far. At one campsite, there was an opportunity for us to teach the boys how to walk through rapids and then swim through an open area with some mild rapids. There are skills involved in doing this for anyone, but for these boys, it was as if they were climbing Everest. Some were shaking, some were close to tears, and each one of them was stripped away from the facades that bring them a sense of security and safety. And when each one of them crossed the river and then swam down the rapids, there was a permeating joy and clear sense of accomplishment. You could see what I might call the authentic self coming through, and it was beautiful.
These are the moments I love about wilderness therapy that simply don't happen within four walls. The natural elements meet each of us in a different way, but they do meet us, and even if we are resistant to being known or letting our guard down, they continue to press us to know ourselves as a part of something bigger than we could previously imagine. For me, it always comes down to relationships, and the way in which relationships can be used to foster healing. This is why I am a therapist, and this is why I continue to work with adolescents, because they ask the tough questions in the midst of the enormity of identity development. And, of course, they also let me rap.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
The Alaskan Intrigue
Just when you thought this election couldn't get any more exciting, John McCain brings Sarah Palin into the mix, and the country can't digest it fast enough. A case of classic political ballyhoo, or maverick ingenious? I'm not yet sure that that question can be answered quite yet, but either way you look at, it sure is interesting.
I've done a fair share of reading about this Palin woman over the last week, and my sources are as diverse as The New York Times and Wikipedia. I've seen the picture of the governor sitting in her bear-decorated office, wondered just how enthusiastic the daugher/boyfriend are about getting married, and am drawn to her looks, which are simple yet captivating. It's as if she's trying to look like she's not trying, with her fashionable glasses and schoolteacher hairstyle and all. But hey, I love the schoolteacher look (I am, indeed, married to one), and, you know, I actually don't think she is trying all that much. Just wait until she lets her hair down, and then see what happens.
And after all the scuttlebutt, we all simply had to give up reading about the woman and watch the woman herself. And regardless of what side of the fence you are on, or even if you're in the middle of that fence, the woman didn't disappoint. I mean, can you imagine the pressure? But poised and direct, Palin jumped right into the challenge, mixing direct attacks with her personal resume, throwing in some family details and even a few jokes. I mean, this woman sold the governor's jet on eBay. To be a no-name Alaskan one day and in the center of a hotly-disputed, scandal-driven, vetting-questioned presidential election the next must be no small challenge. But, then again, nothing in Alaska is small.
I've done a fair share of reading about this Palin woman over the last week, and my sources are as diverse as The New York Times and Wikipedia. I've seen the picture of the governor sitting in her bear-decorated office, wondered just how enthusiastic the daugher/boyfriend are about getting married, and am drawn to her looks, which are simple yet captivating. It's as if she's trying to look like she's not trying, with her fashionable glasses and schoolteacher hairstyle and all. But hey, I love the schoolteacher look (I am, indeed, married to one), and, you know, I actually don't think she is trying all that much. Just wait until she lets her hair down, and then see what happens.
And after all the scuttlebutt, we all simply had to give up reading about the woman and watch the woman herself. And regardless of what side of the fence you are on, or even if you're in the middle of that fence, the woman didn't disappoint. I mean, can you imagine the pressure? But poised and direct, Palin jumped right into the challenge, mixing direct attacks with her personal resume, throwing in some family details and even a few jokes. I mean, this woman sold the governor's jet on eBay. To be a no-name Alaskan one day and in the center of a hotly-disputed, scandal-driven, vetting-questioned presidential election the next must be no small challenge. But, then again, nothing in Alaska is small.
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