"Breathe it in ..."

 

This entry refers to my experience of visiting Auschwitz II, also known as Auschwitz-Birkenau.    To build this camp, the Nazis destroyed 7 local villages and built the brick barracks from the houses of those villages.  Following this visit, I then went to Auschwitz l, originally a Polish Army barracks, which today is a museum .   I’ll write about that experience, as well as my experience of visiting 2 barracks in this camp in other entries.

A friend, before I visited Auschwitz, told me to ‘breathe in every bit of my experience.’  I remembered his words as I walked around the camps and did just that …

On the days immediately prior to my visit, and the actual morning of the day, thinking about ‘going to Auschwitz’ felt very surreal.  A bit like a child waiting for Christmas, the day I’d wanted to happen for such a long time, was suddenly upon me.  But it wasn’t excitement that I was filled with.  How could I be excited about visiting a place where around 1.4 million people had lost their lives at the hands of fellow humans?  I struggled, in the lead up to my trip when telling people I was going, with how to describe how I felt about it.  Saying ‘I was looking forward to it’ felt wrong.  And yet, I was looking forward to it, in a way.  I guess I was filled with a sense of anticipation about whatever I was going to experience.

On the actual drive towards the camp, I began to feel really anxious.  I realised I had no real idea as to how I would feel or how I would react when I got there.  There was also something about being in a people-carrier with 5 strangers, 4 of whom would share the experience with me and my mum when we got there. Our driver was very chatty and informative about the area, which was good because listening to him, stopped me dwelling too much on the experience ahead.  He was even able to make us laugh about the irony of us visiting Auschwitz in a German manufactured Mercedes.

Seeing the road signs to ‘Oświęcim,’ the Polish version of the German-named ‘Auschwitz’ kept bringing my anxiety to the surface.  I began thinking about how the Jews must have felt on their journeys to the camp; both those who knew where they were going and what fate awaited them, and those who didn’t.  What a very different experience to my own …

As a counsellor, I always try to step into my client’s shoes and experience their world through their eyes.  And I think that’s what I was trying to do here.  As I said in my previous entry, for me to be able to fully understand something, I need to experience it for myself.  That’s what I try to do (as much as I ever can step into someone else’s experience) in the counselling room, and was also I think, how I approached my visit to Auschwitz.

Getting out of the car and walking towards the main building felt surreal.  I think I dissociated slightly, especially when seeing the train track leading through the tower, knowing what had lain at the end of the thousands of peoples’ journeys.  I felt a heaviness inside of me; sadness, helplessness, disbelief, respect and awe.

Stepping inside, two things hit me; the vastness of the site and the air of stillness.

I felt that the air held a certain heaviness, almost a sense of its holding onto the gravity of what had taken place there. There was an eerie quietness to it too; despite many visitors being there.  I guess that some of this quietness could have been due to the amount of empty space, but it somehow didn’t feel that way, because alongside it, I also experienced a powerful sense of respect and sadness.

The vastness of the site, stretching both to the right and left of the central walkway for me, began to put into perspective the huge scale of the atrocity.

 Seeing both the surviving barracks and the remains of destroyed ones helped me appreciate just how many prisoners had been held there, especially knowing how crammed they were inside their huts.

Going round the site with a guide was a mixed experience for me.  In hindsight, I think it was probably the best way for a first visit, but I’d like to go back again, on my own.  The guide was very informative and ensured that we saw the key things, but going round with her, and also as part of a group meant that there wasn’t always enough time to experience fully and process what I was seeing and experiencing.  In hindsight, I think this might have been a good thing, as I think it had to potential to be overwhelming.  I feel that from the guided visit, I’ve been able to process more of the facts and to get a sense of the camp and life there, but I’d like to go back and process more of the emotions.  To spend a little more time at the sites that held more meaning for me, to stay still and reflect on the lives of the prisoners.

Seeing the electrified barbed wire fencing around the camps was powerful.  Thinking about its use in controlling prisoners through fear, and also providing a painful means of suicide for those prisoners unable to cope. 

I think the sense of awe I mentioned earlier relates to my amazement at the resilience of human beings.  I often feel it towards my clients in the therapy room when I hear the life experiences they’ve had or are living with.  That same sense of awe was magnified countless times inside this camp.  I still can’t begin to comprehend the scale of the fear, terror, humiliation, loss, hunger, anger, etc., etc., that the prisoners must have lived with constantly.  Their sheer helplessness, powerlessness, despair …

And what makes it even more incomprehensible, is that it was at the hands of other human beings.

Looking at the watchtower in this photo helps me envisage the Officers in it, keeping watch over the camp and the prisoners.  And I just can’t even begin to put myself into their shoes.  I can get a small sense of what the prisoners must have felt, but I just can’t comprehend the other side.  Or maybe, I just don’t want to.

Another really powerful moment for me, was my first sighting of a railway carriage used to transport people to the camps.  Having previously read about the horrific conditions within these carriages, actually seeing one up close, made me appreciate more just how horrific those journeys must have been.

Another poignant point for me was the end of the railway track.  Originally, the tracks stopped outside of the camp. But once it became an extermination camp, and to speed up the process of liquidation, prisoners were made to extend the tracks right into the camp.  New arrivals were then simply taken straight to the gas chamber … very close to the end of the railway track.

The gas chamber at this camp was destroyed by the Nazis before liberation to hide the evidence of their actions.  Its ruins still remain …

And again, for me, actually seeing this helped me see in my mind’s eye the experiences of those whose lives ended here.

For some reason, and I still don’t know why, I was drawn to the trees stood to the left of the gas chamber’s remains (photograph at the top of this entry).  Whilst I was there, I was certain there were 4 trees stood there, and even the first few times I looked at my photos, I only say 4 trees.  I was really surprised, almost a week later, to realise that there were actually 5 trees.

Walking around the camp, I kept thinking about my friend’s words.  I kept closing my eyes, taking a slow, deep breath and simply breathing in both my own experience and those of the people who suffered and lost their lives here.  I think it would have been easy to just walk around, seeing the sights.  And maybe that’s what some people need to do; just to see it.  Any more than that could be overwhelming.

I wanted a little bit more than that though.  I wanted to experience it in order to help me to comprehend it and to breathe it in as part of my own connection to humanity … both the horrors experienced by the prisoners and the incomprehensibility of man’s ability to afflict such horrors on other men, women and children.

Visiting Auschwitz ...

I visited Auschwitz last weekend.  It’s somewhere I’ve wanted to visit for a long time, and now that I’ve been, I know it was the right thing for me to do.  And I’d actually like to go back …

I’m going to try and put my motivations for wanting to visit into words, because it’s provoked a number of discussions when I’ve told people I’ve been.  At times, I’ve felt that I’ve had to justify myself and my reasons for going there.  Other people have been hugely interested and have wanted to know all about my experience.  I think it's good that it provokes such debate, as it helps highlight what an emotive experience it was, and still is.

From conversations I’ve had with people over the years, Auschwitz seems to be a place that people either want to visit.  Or they don’t. 

Why did I choose to visit?

For me, it’s a way of remembering the horrors that occurred there and showing my respect to the people who suffered and lost their lives there, and in other similar camps.  I have no family history linked to Auschwitz, no religious connections, but it still feels part of my personal history.  My sense of connection comes simply from being human. 

As a counsellor, I have a keen interest in trying to understand humanity and individual life experiences.  The holocaust and what took place in camps such as Auschwitz and on the journeys there, are almost incomprehensible to me.  Trying to imagine the terror and fear that Jews and other prisoners must have experienced is almost impossible and my heart goes out to every single one of them.  In preparation for my visit, I read a number of survivors’ stories just to try to understand their experience.  Their horror began way before arriving in the camps.  Life in their own homes became an experience of terror just waiting for what might happen to them.  Thinking about it, makes me appreciate just how very lucky I am.  I think it’s easy, living in twenty first century Britain, to take for granted the safety and security of your own home and freedom.  And yet I’m also aware that many people today (in the UK and around the world), for all kinds of reasons, don’t have that luxury that I’m fully appreciating right now.

What I find even more incomprehensible is the thinking and action of the Nazis and people involved in the torture of the prisoners.  As someone who is generally very accepting of people, I can’t comprehend the Nazi thought processes of hatred towards the Jews and other marginal groups.   It seems a very arrogant position to have taken; that they were the better people & to try to create a ‘pure’ Aryan race.  One of the sad things for me though, is that it’s still going on today; maybe on a smaller scale, but we still see racism, homophobia, sexism and all of the other human hatreds happening in the world today.  To some extent, it seems that we haven’t learned anything from the horrors of the past …

I wonder how many of the Nazi officers truly believed in what they were doing and how many of them were coerced into behaving the way that they did.  This is another aspect of the Holocaust that interests me.  As humans, research shows that we do have a tendency to follow those in authority and to behave in the same way as those around us.  I wonder how many of the Nazi officers found themselves in this position.  Maybe not agreeing with what they were doing, but feeling pressured into ‘having’ to do it so as to please their superiors and fit in with their comrades?  I guess that for their own survival, they felt they had no choice. To some extent, my heart goes out to those people too.  I wonder how their experience changed them?  And how did they rationalise what they had been involved in when it was all over? How, for the rest of their lives, did they live with their memories of the things they’d witnessed and carried out?

My guide at Auschwitz was telling us that there are probably many Officers’ diaries still buried at Auschwitz.  In the future, I think these will have informative experiences to tell.  Out of respect for those still living who experienced the Holocaust and for their children and grandchildren, the diaries are not yet being uncovered.

So to get back to my original question; my motivation for visiting Auschwitz was to try to comprehend the atrocities that happened there and across Europe during the Second World War.  For me, being in a place like Auschwitz helps me feel closer to the experience.   To fully understand things, I have a deep need to experience them for myself; I feel I can’t fully comprehend anything until I have.  Now I know that I can never personally experience what happened in, and around Auschwitz (and nor would I want to), but for me, by being there, I felt a closer connection to it and to everyone whose lives had led them there.  Touching the walls of the barracks and the bunk beds, touched by the hands of thousands of victims helped me feel closer to them …

Some people I’ve spoken to have viewed visiting Auschwitz as being voyeuristic.  Others have talked about the disrespect of turning it into a tourist attraction.  I think that for some people it maybe is these things.  The guide told us that some of the barracks have had to be closed to the general public due to graffiti. For me, the people who choose to disfigure any monument are showing disrespect and I disagree with their actions.  However, I also see that for some people, the graffiti may be their way of expressing their feelings towards what happened.  I also suspect that some of the graffiti was carved / written by people not fully understanding the depth of feeling that others would experience and maybe their naïve way of adding their own mark to history.  I don’t condone any such actions and whilst I was in Auschwitz I didn’t even want to take any photos of myself or the person I visited with.  For me, that somehow would have felt disrespectful, and moving towards treating the place as a tourist attraction rather than the monument I think I see it as.

And the issue of taking photographs have also provoked a number of comments.  I took a lot of photos whilst I was there.  I took photos of everything that had meaning to me.  And again, I can see how this could be viewed as voyeuristic.  But I’m glad I took my photos.  I couldn’t take everything in whilst I was there.  Looking at my photos, as I have done many times since I got back, is helping me process both my experience of visiting and my ongoing struggle with comprehending.  I’m a very visual person.  I’ve always loved photos.  And when I look back at photos I don’t just see the images; I feel the atmosphere and the feelings being experienced when the photo was taken.  And what I’ve found especially strange with some of my photos is the eeriness and bleakness that are visible in them.  Despite it being the 26^th October when I visited, it was an unusually hot and sunny day (22c) with blue skies.  

This photo to the right has had not filters or effects added; it’s just as I took it …

When I look at my photos, I 'see' and 'hear' the prisoners in a way in which I didn't in pictures before I visited.

The guide told us that the majority of Auschwitz survivors, when asked, will say that when they were liberated, they wanted the camps to be destroyed.  However, they’re all now glad that they weren’t and that they still exist as a reminder of what happened there. 

In my next entry, I’m going to try and put into words my experience of being there …

As told to the Sunday Sun newspaper ...

As a build up to the North East Skinny Dip 2013, I was interviewed by a reporter from local North East paper, the 'Sunday Sun.'  The article appeared in yesterday's paper (see photos below) ... this is the article as written by the reporter, Brian Daniel and printed in the Sunday Sun, 22nd September 2013.


"A NORTH woman will today notch up an important milestone in her recovery from eating disorders when she gets her kit off at a mass skinny dip.

Sharon Cox, 40, from North Shields, is taking part in the North East Skinny Dip 2013 at Druridge Bay Country Park in Northumberland.

The event, successfully held for the first time in 2012 and arranged to coincide with the autumn equinox, will see hundreds of men and women bare all and take a sunrise dip in the cold North Sea.

Participants will be raising money for the Mind mental health charity as well as event supporters, the National Trust, and could play their part in breaking the world record for the world's biggest skinny dip.

But for Sharon, [of North Shields], the event will be a key moment in her life - world record or not.

At the age of 15 she developed anorexia, a disorder she suffered from until she was 17.

"I probably got down to around 7 stone which, probably for my height at that age, was about two stone underweight."

Sharon then began to suffer from bulimia, a disorder which would plague her until she reached 30.

"Some periods I would be bingeing and vomitting quite often."

Sharon's weight would vary from to to 11-and-a-half stone.

In 1999, at the age of 27, Sharon began training to be become a counsellor, having attended counselling for her bulimia.

She eventually opened her own private practice, helping people principally with eating disorders and working at GP surgeries with those suffering from other mental health problems.

For the last six years, she has been studying a PhD at York St John University part time on the therapist's experiences of working with people with eating disorders.

The counsellor training and practice and the work she has done for the PhD, have helped Sharon - a steady 10 stone for the last few years - put her disorders behind her.

And today, enjoying life and her body unlike so many years when she did not, she will get her kit off at the skinny dip, the first time she - like most of us - will have done such a thing in public.

She said, "In the last 10 years I have not felt especially confident in my body.

It is only through my PhD that I have found a way to accept my own body and to feel that sense of body acceptance which allow me to do the skinny dip.

I would never have dreamed of doing it even a couple of years ago!

This is the pinnacle both of recovery and of my PhD - it feels a real high point in both of those."

Sharon is dreading feelings the icy water against her skin though, saying, "I am more worried about the cold than the nakedness!"

She is hoping to raise hundreds of pounds for Mind."

I still aim to find the time to write in more detail about my journey from eating disorders to skinny dipping ...

Oddly normal; My 'skinny dipping in the North Sea' experience ...

The weather couldn't have been more perfect; a lovely warm September morning with clear sky out to sea affording a stunning view of the sun appearing over the horizon.   Alongside 200+ other ‘skinny dippers,’ my good friend and I stripped off our clothes, took hold of each others’ hand and ran into the North Sea …

And it turned out to be everything I’d hoped for. 

Standing around, fully clothed, waiting for the dip to happen, I was interested to know what had brought everyone to the point of baring all in public.  I knew I had my own journey which had led me there; I’m sure others had their own.  For some, like myself, it was maybe a significant milestone, others were maybe doing it in memory of loved ones, for others it was maybe simply a challenge.  Being naked in front of other people can be a scary thing to do and running into the cold North Sea in itself is a challenge!

I’d expected to feel extremely self-conscious, but that proved not to be the case.  Yes, I experienced a moment of this when the organiser told us it was time to take our clothes off, but I just took a deep breath & went for it.  Everyone else was doing the same after all! 

Holding my friend’s hand, we just ran towards the sea & the rising sun.  I found it very liberating to run naked across the sand amongst other people in the same state of (un)dress.   I guess that because everyone was there for the same experience, there was a sense of complete acceptance.  Another friend of mine described experiencing it as ‘oddly normal,’ and for me that perfectly summed it up.  No one was there to judge other peoples’ bodies, to compare, criticise, admire or ridicule.  No one was ogling anyone.  Everyone just appeared to be there for their own adventure and to share in the group experience. 

I found it surprisingly easy to run across the sand, and much as I’d been scarily anticipating the cold North Sea, it didn’t appear to be as cold as I’d expected.  I don’t know if this was because the sea wasn’t too cold this morning, or if it was the state of mind I was in, perhaps the adrenalin which would have been flowing through my body?  Or maybe, it was something to do with sharing such an amazing experience with so many other people?

It did feel colder as we walked out deeper and deeper … out to almost-chest height.  And my legs began to feel cold, before becoming numb!  But it also felt invigorating.  It was wonderful to look around and see so many people out in the sea against the beautiful backdrop of the rising sun.  That’s an image I’ll never forget.  And nor do I want to.

And then when we’d had enough, we turned round and headed back to the beach.  Any self-consciousness had completely left me and I felt comfortable and relaxed walking out of the sea in my bare body.

I’d expected to be shivering and uncomfortably cold, and had consequently went prepared with lots of warm clothes and hot water to drink … even a foil blanket!!  But it turned out I didn’t need them.  I simply dried myself off with my towel, and stepped back into my clothes …

Druridge Bay, just before the sun rose over the horizon ...

Seeing other peoples’ naked bodies in such an environment felt very natural and liberating.  I found myself simply noticing those other bodies; male and female.  There were all ages, all shapes and sizes … & every body was perfect.  Simply because every body there was enabling the individual to participate in a truly authentic experience and challenge. 

It wasn't even a ‘celebration’ of bodies, more of a sense of acceptance.  We’re all human.  We all have bodies.  We’re all different and unique … and that’s okay.

I find it sad that in our culture, bodies have become objects to be ashamed of, objects which need to be manipulated through diet and exercise to look a particular way, objects which need to be dressed a certain way, etc.  There’s often a sense of shame attached to nakedness, which I also find sad.  Why should we be ashamed of our bodies, of our natural selves.   We’re all born into the world, fully accepting of our bodies, luxuriating in and fully connected to our bodily experiences, and over time, we learn to be ashamed.  We learn to disconnect, we learn to hide … and we consequently disconnect from our full experience of life and living.

 Someone, when I told them I was doing the Skinny Dip commented about its being ‘rude’ and ‘naughty.’  I found this sad too.  There’s nothing rude or naughty about naked bodies.  Our culture has sexualised bodies to an almost pathological state.  Yes, bodies are sexual and are enjoyed sexually, in appropriate arenas and that should be celebrated.  But our society seems to promote the body as a sexual object too readily.

Our bodies are nothing more, or less, than the container which houses our Selves.  Our bodies are what allow us to experience life and living.  Our bodies allow us to touch, to taste, to smell, to hear, to see.  Our bodies are from where we experience our Selves and our life.


I will write more later about my journey to partaking in this event ...

Skinny Dipping in the North Sea at Sun Rise ...

On Sunday at sunrise, I will be running

naked into the North Sea … !?   Sunday 22nd September marks the Autumn Equinox and I will be running towards the sun in celebration of this and of my body ...

I won’t be alone; I’ll be joining potentially hundreds of other people at an event supported by the National Trust and the Mental Health Charity, MIND.   

It's not too late to sign up & join in ... !?!   If you'd like to find out more information about the Skinny Dip, please check out the 'North East Skinny Dip 2013' link here ...

For me, this event is both a personal challenge and also a way of raising awareness of body acceptance and challenging the cultural attitudes of bodies as objects which should look good.  And as the organisers state; “This event isn’t about looking good; It’s about taking a risk, celebrating our unique bodies & being close to nature , raising money for charity and even maybe breaking a world record!”

It comes 5 years into my PhD journey, which has also been personally challenging and academically enlightening.  Researching eating disorders, I've concluded how important our embodied experience is ... not just for those with eating disorders, but for everyone.  To live fully and experience life and ourselves completely, we need to have a congruent and accepting relationship with our own bodies.

As someone with a past history of eating disorders myself, who has consequently experienced a troubled relationship with my own body, this feels like the apex of my own journey towards bodily and self acceptance ... & for those who know me, the challenge of running into the icy North Sea at a September sunrise is a huge one too …

I'll be writing more about the thoughts that led to me accepting this challenge later today ... before sharing my experience of actually achieving it on Sunday ...

From the Captain's seat ...

Over the last couple of weeks, I've been feeling a little bit unsettled.  I knew I had 2 weeks' annual leave coming up, during which I'm planning to concentrate on writing some of my PhD thesis draft.  A big task in itself.  I know, that for myself, my environment is very important to my psychological well-being.  I remember working in a workplace a number of years back and from the moment I stepped out of my car on my first morning there, I felt out of place.  It felt so wrong.  I felt so uncomfortable and I just couldn't settle into the job ... I lasted there for 4 months!

As I know how important the 'right' environment is, I aim to create a safe, comfortable space within my counselling room for clients.  I think I manage to achieve this ... I certainly get a lot of feedback from clients about the 'warmth,' 'safety,' and 'comfort' they experience within that room.

I also use my counselling room as my study.  The room does have a nice, warmth about it and I enjoy sitting in there.  

But last Friday afternoon, I decided I needed a change, and I decided to rearrange my therapy room / study. It was interesting to plan how to best do it.  I obviously had to think about the practicalities of fitting the furniture in to a different arrangement.  But I also had to bear in mind both my needs ... as a counsellor and for my writing / studying ... and also my clients'.

I think I've managed that!  Or at least I hope I have.  It works for me, I'll be interested to see how clients react to it; especially those who have worked with me in the room as it was.  I appreciate that change can be unsettling; I just hope that the changes I've made in this room aren't unsettling for my clients.

The biggest thing for me personally, was moving my desk.  For the last 6 years or so, it's been at the side of the room, facing a wall.  So as I've worked, I've spent a lot of time gazing at a wall.

My desk is now in front of the window.  And as I sit at my desk, I'm looking out of the window.  I don't have the best view in the world, but being able to just see outside is making such a big difference to how I feel sitting at my desk.  Even as I concentrate on the words appearing on the screen in front of me as I type this, my peripheral vision is still picking up the outside world.  

And that feels so much more free.  I didn't realise I felt so trapped, contained and restricted when I was gazing at a wall.  

I had a very strong sense a little earlier, sitting here of feeling 'ready to face the world' and take on whatever comes my way.  And I am now, quite literally, facing the world through my window.  I also had a sense of 'being upfront,' of 'driving my own bus,' 'flying my own plane' ...  

I could even feel 'the others' behind me!?  Now, I have no idea of who these 'others' are, but I think that for me, the metaphor is about taking complete responsibility for me and my life ... or right now; me and my PhD and everything I've learned on my journey.  Up until now, the research has led me ... it's been the one in the driving seat.

The balance has shifted now.  I'm now in the driving seat and I'm ready to take everything I've learned forward!  And I do have ideas as to what I'd like to do next.  Those things probably can't happen until after my PhD, but they're in my head, germinating ...

From the Captain's seat, it's up to me which direction I go in; I'm ready to fly ...

Exactly where I need to be ...

Whenever I see this, or a similar advert in my monthly edition of BACP's 'Therapy Today' magazine I can't help smiling ...

Back in January 2008, I went into my annual appraisal with my current copy of 'Therapy Today' opened at a full page advert from York St John University. I intended to ask my manager for funding & leave to attend this one day workshop ...

My manager granted me permission & I attended York St John University for the first time to participate in Peter Jenkins' workshop. As I had expected would happen.

What I didn't expect was my manager spotting an advert further up the page for  prospective students on a Counselling Studies PhD.

He told me he'd always wanted to fund someone to do a PhD & did I fancy doing it?! As I've always loved learning & personal / professional development I jumped at the chance & instantly agreed; having no idea what I was jumping into at that time.

We discussed a topic relevant to my workplace ... I applied ... & was successful!  

And in October 2008, I took a big step into the unknown ...

Much of my first year was taken up with learning just what a PhD involved, teaching myself research methodologies and the underpinning philosophies of knowledge. I loved what I was doing.

But then, in May 2009 (just after I'd learned my cat, Scrumpy, has terminal cancer), changes at work meant my funding and study leave were stopped; stolen away from under me.

I had 2 choices: leave the PhD or continue with and self fund. I felt in a quandary. I didn't really want to walk away from it just when my appetite for philosophical thinking & knowledge development / creation had been whetted. But nor did I want to self fund a research study which would ultimately benefit my employer more than me.

After discussion with my university supervisors, I decided to remain on the course but change my research question. Eight months into a part time PhD was still early enough to do that.

And that's how I came to be researching the topic I am. 

Although it was disappointing & painful when my funding was pulled, I see now that it was the best thing that could have happened to me.

I was able to refocus my research into a subject area I was genuinely interested in. One which really comes from my heart & stimulates me at a deep intellectual, emotional and spiritual level. And it's now mine; mine to do with what I want, in a way in which a study I'd done for an employer could never have been.

I'm really grateful to my then-manager for suggesting a PhD to me; the thought of doing a PhD hadn't even entered my head before then! And I'm grateful too, to the manager who pulled my funding & caused me to regroup my thinking into a topic I passionately believe in. 

And now, as I embark on writing up my research and am seeing possibilities of where I might take my research next, I see how a bizarre set of circumstances, out of my control, have led me to where I am now. 

And where I am now, feels exactly where I need to be.

I very much believe in taking responsibility for one's own life, making conscious decisions about what one wants to do, and then taking active steps to work towards it.

However, circumstances like the ones above do make me wonder if 'fate' doesn't also play its part ...

Maintaining an ethical online presence ...

As a counsellor, I appreciate the importance of not sharing too much of myself and my life with my clients.  When clients come for counselling, it's vital that the therapy is about them and not about the therapist.  The counsellor engages with their whole Self at a deep level, so that the client experiences a powerful and healing human connection, but they don't talk about any of their personal lives.

We also try to ensure our therapy rooms give none of our personal lives away.  To ensure the neutrality of the therapy and so that the client can engage with us as a 'therapist' with no 'baggage' we keep ourselves our lives separate.

We're trained to only disclose personal information when it is deemed to be helpful for the client.  It's often a difficult line to balance though.   For myself, I aim to be fully me in the room with each and every client, which means that I respond to their words and bodies in a congruent way.  I voice my feelings, emotions, thoughts and images which arise in response to my clients, as and when they arise.  This ensures that human connection I mentioned above.  So, I'm fully me, but clients get to find out very little about who I am outside of the therapy room.

Or at least that was the case, until I started writing this blog.  And also my PhD.  And this is where the lines can become blurred.  I enjoy sharing my knowledge and experience ... especially if I think it might help someone, or might start a debate.  I also think that sharing information can be helpful for people to ensure that they don't feel completely alone in their personal pain.  It can be surprisingly comforting to know that you're not the only person in the world suffering.

I know that through the writings on this blog, I give more of myself away than I would in the therapy room.  Any disclosures made with the therapy room are focused and said specifically towards a particular client.  Writing on here, means I'm sharing my thoughts, feelings and experiences with anyone who chooses to read them; and amongst that audience may be clients, past, present & future.  Is that entirely ethical?

I'm sure there'd be people who would say it wasn't.  I know that there are many therapists who refuse to engage in any kind of online presence.  And that's okay if that works for them and is congruent with their way of working.

For myself though, I believe that making myself a little more human makes me more real in the therapy room.  I'm careful to never give away any specific personal information and I sometimes disguise some of the facts to keep me, my loved ones and my clients safe.

We live in a time when the online world is becoming increasingly important and I believe that as therapists, we should be looking at ways to embrace this and use it in a beneficial way for ourselves and our clients, rather than simply dismissing it.  After all, isn't this how theory and practice develops and moves forward?

It's something I've given a lot of thought to throughout my PhD.  When I first starting researching it, I intended to leave my personal eating disordered experiences out of it.  But as I engaged more deeply with the literature etc, I realised that my personal experience was invaluable and should be brought into it.  It's helped my personal acceptance and understanding, and I know that my self-reflection has very positively influenced my thinking.  And I've followed this through into my practice. If clients ask, I tell them a little bit about my history.  It's there on my website and in this blog.  My openness hopefully helps take away some of the shame and stigma that's still experienced around eating disorders and other mental health issues.  It also seems to help clients to know that I've had that experience and so have my own understanding.

Again though, I don't disclose personal information; just enough to inform my clients of my understanding, experience, and also, to offer them the hope of recovery.

And I attached the above photo of Elsie my cat sitting in front of my computer because Elsie is a personal self disclosure.  But again, she's one that I have to disclose.  I need to let clients know of her presence incase they're allergic to cats.  And she's also sometimes visible or audible in my home!  And she has her own blog (museandmewsings.blogspot.co.uk), so I have to ensure that she remains aware of any ethical considerations.

I've also set up a Facebook page.  I've had a personal profile page for a few years now and enjoy using it.  I've struggled with how best to use it though as I've not wanted to blur the boundaries between my personal and professional lives.  I think I've finally found the balance.  My friends have, up until now, had to put up with my therapeutic ramblings and I've not shared them with anyone else.  But I've just set up a 'Therapy with Sharon' page where I'll post anything therapy, research, eating disorders related and that page is open to everybody.

It is difficult line to balance.  I'm not sure I always get it right; but I always try to ...

Conference presentations ...

I've been preparing a presentation for a Conference I'm going to on Tuesday; Mental Health and Young People; Promoting a Positive and Healthy Body Image."  It's been organised by the Public Policy Exchange
 (click here for more info Public Policy Exchange) as a follow up from an All Party Parliamentary Group on Body Image last year.

Central YMCA played a big role in this APPG Body Image group, and a colleague and myself became involved via the YMCA.  We developed and facilitated some workshops for Key Stages 1 & 2 pupils in primary schools.  We fed back our experiences to YMCA and they were included in the published report:  'Reflections on body image'.  More details can be found by visiting  www.ymca.co.uk/bodyimage/

This conference is a bit of a first for me.  I've presented at a number of conferences over the last 3 or 4 years as part of my PhD, but each of those has been one which I've had to apply to present at.  This is the first one for which I was approached by the organisers and invited to attend.  I'm sure it comes from the work I did last year as part of the APPG Body Image inquiry; but it's a privilege to be invited to present.

It feels like a recognition of my developing expertise and all of the research I've engaged in over the last few years.  And that feels good; especially as I head towards the end of my PhD.

It also got me thinking about just how many conferences and events I've presented at.  I used to be absolutely terrified of public speaking, and yet now, I gladly put myself forward for it.  I still feel some nerves, but I'm sure that's normal.  My research and what I'm learning from it, excites me so much, that I want to share it with others ... at conferences, and hopefully, eventually, in print.


This is the list of conferences I've attended & titles I've presented over the duration of my PhD to date ...

2010   BACP Research Conference, London
Poster Presentation: “The impact of working with eating disordered clients on the counsellor’s sense of self: a pilot study”

2010   VITAE Public Engagement Event, Newcastle Poster Presentation:  “Working with eating disordered clients: Might it eat away at the counsellor?”

2010   York St John University; Research Methodologies Conference
Paper:  “The evolution of a methodology: An exploration of counsellors’ embodied subjectivities when working with clients presenting with eating disorder symptomatology”

2010  Newcastle Counselling Association
Workshop Presentation:  “Dispelling fears: The importance of research in counselling”

2011   BACP Research Conference, Liverpool
Poster Presentation:  “Changing the researcher, changing the research:  The impact of  exploring the embodied subjectivities of counsellors working with clients with eating disorders”

2011   VITAE Public Engagement Event, Durham
Petcha Kucha Presentation:  “The effects on counsellors of working with clients who have eating disorders”

2011   York St John University; Research Methodologies Conference
Paper:  “Giving the researcher a voice: Autoethnography as a vehicle for reflexivity”

2011   NCCCTC Conference, Newcastle
Paper Presentation:  “Embodying change work and eating disorders”

2012   BACP Research Conference, Edinburgh
Paper:  “The embodied counsellor: Exploring the counsellor’s embodied subjectivity when working with clients presenting with eating distress”

2012   VITAE Public Engagement Event, York
Poster Presentation:  “How amazing is your body?!  From the counselling room to you … “

2012   Newcastle Counselling Association
Workshop Presentation: “The embodied counsellor: Reflections on the therapist’s body and relationship with food”

2013   York St John University Faculty of Life & Health Sciences; Faculty Research Seminar
Presentation:  “An exploration of the counsellor’s embodied subjectivity when working with clients presenting with eating disorder symptomatology: Methodological progression and key findings to date”

2013  Mental Health and Young People; Promoting a Positive and Healthy Body Image; A Public Policy Exchange Symposium, London
Paper Presentation: “Embodying change: An embodied approach to working with body image”

Another tale to tell ...

Another book with its own tale to tell!

I've just received this book in the post this morning.  It was published in 1975.  It's still in excellent condition & its inner page has a stamp from, who I'm assuming to be, its previous owner ... Eric E Goranson, MD, from Portland, Oregon, USA.

I wonder if he was its only owner, or has it had many?  I wonder who Dr Goranson is, or was?  In holding what was once his book, I can 'sense' the ghosts of his eyes & fingers on the pages. 

My sense is of an older man, gentle and compassionate. An intelligent man who loved his work and his books ...

I could be completely wrong!  This image I've created could simply be my wishful thinking ... my own fantasy or phantasy (unconscious) image of the kind of man I want to think of having previously owned this book.

I can't imagine a time when I will ever get rid of my collection of therapy / eating disorders related books ... but I do wonder what will happen to them in the fullness of time when I'm no longer here to love them ...

Hopefully they can all rest assured that they have a loving home for a few decades yet ... 

The tales a book could tell ...

I received 4 'new' books in the post today that I'd ordered in relation to my research.  I never fail to feel excited when I buy or receive a 'new' book.  I can't wait to open the book and start reading it; to consume the knowledge, or stories, written in there.

My four 'new' books

I've highlighted the word 'new' because only one of the books I received was actually a new book.  The other 3 were used books.  Two of them had come from Connecticut Library; you can still see their library tickets on them.  These books were both written in the 1980's, but they're still well respected in the eating disorders literature field.  In the twenty-plus years of their lives, I wonder where they've been and who's read them?

If only those books could speak ... or write their own story ... I suspect they'd have a few interesting tales to tell.  Stories that have absolutely nothing to do with their subject matter but instead, the people who read them.  Or the people who took them out of the library, and never read them.  Whose houses have those books visited?  Whose bags have those books sat in? Whose essays and dissertations have those books played a part in?  Whose ideas, knowledge and thoughts have those books inspired? Whose hands have held those books?  ...

Endless questions.  Questions that I'd love to ask those books; but questions that I'll never receive answers to.  But wouldn't it be fascinating to know?!

Before I began my PhD research I very rarely bought second-hand books.  But due to the sheer volume of books available, the fact that many of them are now out-of-print and the cost of brand new books, I was 'forced' to begin buying pre-read books.  My whole outlook on them has changed since then.  I love second (maybe even, third, fourth, fifth, etc.) - hand books now!  I love thinking about their history and story.

I love receiving books which have annotations written in them.  It's fascinating to read other peoples' thoughts and ideas.  I feel privileged to read them sometimes.  It's like a little glimpse into someone else's thinking.  And it's  a privilege to share that little bit of intimacy ... even though I'll never know the person who thought it, and wrote it.  Even highlights and underlinings in books are fascinating; just to see what the previous reader thought important enough to highlight.

My own underlining & highlighting in a book only I have owned

Prior to my PhD, I never wrote in books.  Now, whenever I'm reading a book (non-fiction and especially related to my research or therapy), I always underline, highlight and annotate!  I can't read now without a pen in my hand!  It feels like a much more engaged way of reading and assimilating the knowledge.  Reading becomes more like a conversation between myself, the book and its author; and sometimes the previous readers.

I've read some really interesting annotations in some of the books I've got; and some of those have helped me develop my own thoughts and ideas.  Without those previous readers' thoughts, my own thinking might have taken a different turn, or I might have missed something.  Writing this, it makes me want to thank all of the previous readers and annotators; they've all, unknowingly, played a role in my thinking, development and research.

I wonder just how many previous readers there are who've owned, or just borrowed the books that now sit on my bookshelves.  The ghosts of hundreds (I suspect, bearing in mind how many books I have!!) of previous readers lingering and contributing to my thinking and writing ...

Sending a big, big thank you to you all; whoever and wherever you may be ...

A life can change in an instant ...

This post has been inspired by my recent burn injury to my hand.  Although it was a relatively minor injury, it's made me think about how quickly life can be changed.  And also how even losing full use of a small body part (even just on a temporary basis) can impact someone's life.

In less than a second, two of my fingers were quite severely burned.  My middle finger has now fully recovered (other than a red scar), but six weeks on, my index finger is still causing me pain and limiting some of the things I can do with my hand.  I'm also still visiting the hospital for regular physiotherapy to ensure the developing scar tissue doesn't restrict my finger's movement.

Hospital visits and physio exercises all take up time and emotional energy.  They can be extra things to fit into  an already busy life.  Not knowing how the injury is going to heal creates its own uncertainties.

Depending on the location or severity of the injury, scarring can be a real cause for concern for some people.  And some injuries can prove to be life changing as a result of scarring and any resulting injury.  I was thinking here mostly about physical injuries to external body parts.  But there's also head injury to consider.  A serious head injury can cause a person's personality or cognitive ability to change irrevocably.

I'm also mindful of internal injuries, which maybe aren't visible to other people, but can have a devastating impact on the quality of life of the person who has experienced it.  And sometimes, these injuries are most difficult for other people to comprehend.  It's easier to commiserate with someone who has a visible injury.

Most accidents occur in a split second.  And yet the consequences, of serious accidents, can last a life time.  They're things we don't plan for, and so are completely unprepared when they do happen.  We have to cope with the shock initially, as well as the physical pain.

I also think that sometimes, the emotional consequences of serious (and not so serious) injuries and illnesses get neglected or forgotten about.  Externally, the person may look well again, but maybe emotionally, they're still suffering.  Even if they're not fully healed or well, other people quite often tend to focus on the physical well-being and healing process.  And if this is going well, it's easy to assume that everything is okay.  But maybe the individual is still experiencing emotional pain, which isn't so easily seen.  Any physical trauma our bodies go through can affect our emotional well-being.

As a counsellor, I've always been mindful of checking out how the client I'm working with is experiencing their injury or illness.  I always recognise that it's important to enable them to share and explore their own experience to help them recognise the implications of it for them.

This is also an example of how I, as a counsellor, reflect on my own personal life experiences and consider what I can learn from them which might be of benefit for clients I work with.  Anything that happens to me, can potentially happen to someone else ... if not in the same way, then in a similar way.  Consequently, there's always something that I can learn from my own life and its experiences which will help others.  Reflecting on myself and my experiences allows me to develop my own self understanding, which I can then turn back out onto helping other people understand themselves better.

In this way, counselling is a very reflective and reflexive way of working and understanding oneself, others and the world; and helping others to understand themselves and their world.  And as I help my clients improve their self understanding, I take things away from each encounter to reflect upon, which further help me to understand myself, and my world ... and so the process continues ...

Our bodies are from where we experience our selves, our lives and the world, and so any injury or change to our body can have a huge impact on how we experience ourselves and how we live our lives ...

Bodily self-disclosure as a counsellor ...

I've had an interesting week ... personally & professionally.  And all caused by a silly accident with a candle and a match last weekend, which resulted in nasty burns to two of my fingers.

One of the main strands of my PhD research is the idea of the counsellor's body as a form of self-disclosure. As therapists, we are trained to not disclose any of our personal information or circumstances to our clients.  This is to ensure the neutrality of the therapy and to ensure that the experiences and feelings which occur in the therapy room are essentially those of the client.  As a result of my research, I'm increasingly recognising the therapist's body as a form of self disclosure which it is impossible to hide or deny. It's there in the room for the client to see.  It's there in the room for the client to relate to, to think about, to make judgements about, to think about ...

In terms of my research, I've considered the potential effects on the client and the therapy of the therapist's bodily shape and size.  Our bodies do say a lot about us; through their shape and size, through how we use them, hold them, how we express ourselves through our body language, even how we dress them.  We disclose a lot about ourselves, quite often unconsciously, through, and by, our bodies.

The bandages I've had on my two fingers this week have been impossible to hide.  And it's been interesting to note how different clients ... and also different people outside of the therapy room ... have responded to that.  Some people comment straight away; sometimes out of curiosity, sometimes out of concern.  I've seen other people notice my fingers, but then not say anything.  Others simply haven't noticed because they've been too immersed in their own thoughts and feelings to notice my hand.  And for me, all of those different responses are okay; it's just interesting to note the differences.

As a therapist, it raises a much bigger question for me though ... just how much do our illnesses, personal tragedies, pains and injuries impact on our clients and the therapeutic relationship?  Major injuries are plain to see and can't be denied.  Our personal pains and tragedies may not be so visible, but maybe they too, play out via our bodies ... lack of sleep, worry, concern etc., often show as tiredness, dark eyes, lethargy, maybe even changes in how we dress and present ourselves.  I wonder how aware our clients are of these minor bodily manifestations?  And how it does impact the therapy.  Does the client comment on what they see?  Or do they keep it to themselves, but then spend their session wondering about the counsellor's story?  Maybe, consciously or unconsciously, editing the things they talk about so as to protect the therapist from further pain?

It's a really interesting area for me; and one that's been brought to the forefront of my mind because of my injury.  But it also enables me to see that my research has much wider implications than just therapists' bodies in terms of working with clients with eating disorders ...

We all walk our own roads ...

"People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness.

Just because they're not on your road does not mean they are lost."

Dalai Lama

I had cause earlier today to think about 'what is success?'  And for me, the above quote from the Dalai Lama  which I've just stumbled across this evening, fits very nicely ...

Success means different things for different people.  For some people, it's about earning a high salary, having a prestigious job or title, having a lot of expensive material possessions.  For these people, perhaps success stems from external factors ... from possessions and achieving a status in society.

For some people, it's simply getting through a day, especially those who are ill or depressed.  For those with more severe forms of depression, sometimes just getting out of bed, or getting washed is a huge achievement.

For other people, success is a much more personal, internal thing. Achieving an inner sense of peace, congruence or satisfaction, regardless of external circumstances.  It often comes from a sense of being true to one's own inner self, own personal morals and ethics.

And this is where I would put myself.  My own personal measure of my success stems from feeling that I am being true to myself.  And in my life, this means doing the work that I love (counselling, therapy and writing about these things and my eating disorders research).  And I feel very fortunate that I've found my 'vocation' in life and am able to follow it.  Yes, it means I've maybe not achieved the financial and material rewards I could have earned had I followed a different path, but I experience a true sense of congruence, knowing that I am spending my life doing what I love doing.  I am able to use my personal past experiences to take my work forward and help others ... giving both meaning and purpose to my earlier life and helping other people through that.

It can be hard sometimes to follow a different path from that expected for you or to turn your back on financial or status progression, in a world which values financial measures of worth.  I originally achieved a Business Studies Degree and Postgraduate Diploma in Marketing, but quickly realised that that field of work couldn't fulfill me personally.  I was lucky to 'stumble' in counselling training when I was 27, and I very quickly recognised that that was where my life lay.  I've since turned down management posts, knowing that for me, managing people, money, figures and things doesn't fulfill me.

My passion comes from learning about people and humanity and immersing myself in that.  And this is where I feel fulfilled and what allows me to still enjoy my work with clients 13 years after I first entered the counselling world.  And to still experience the genuine passion I feel to learn more and more ...

For me too, I think it's important to find a sense of inner satisfaction from within.  If a person relies completely on external factors for their sense of fulfillment, happiness, success etc., whether that be a partner, work, wealth, status and material possessions, it can be very difficult if those things are taken away.  Then, a person can be left feeling adrift.  Whereas, if we can find our own inner fulfillment and satisfaction, then no matter what the external circumstances, that inner peace, that inner congruence remains.

It seems too easy for people to judge others and to view them as less successful than themselves if they're living their life in different way.  For me, it's important to understand and accept a person's way of living ... as long as they're happy with it and no one else is being put at risk or compromised.

We all walk our own paths, and for me, the true measure of success is that an individual feels that they are living a life true to themselves, to their own inner beliefs ... no matter what that life looks like ...

Empathy & feeling the pain of others ...

I love this quote from the Dalai Lama.  For me, it  nicely sums up my role as a counsellor ...

'There is a phenomenological difference in experiencing pain yourself and sharing someone else’s pain and suffering. 
Your own pain is involuntary; you feel overwhelmed and have no control. 
When feeling the pain of others, there is an element of discomfort, but there also is a level of stability because you are voluntarily accepting pain. 
It gives you a sense of confidence.'

                                                                                                                                                                                              Dalai Lama

In the counselling room with clients, I aim to create an accepting and empathic space where they can share their pain, distress, confusions, discomfort etc., ... & also their joys and laughter.

It is one of the greatest privileges of my life that clients develop a sense of trust and safety with me so that they do feel able to share and experience the true level of their feelings whilst in the therapeutic relationship with me.

Providing a successfully empathic relationship to my clients means that as a counsellor, I do feel their pain.  I do experience their feelings within my own body and soul.  But as in the above quote, I am always aware that it is the pain of my clients that I am feeling, and not my own.  And it is this distinction that allows me to sit with this pain, to simply be in this pain alongside my clients, enabling them to truly experience, and hence begin to resolve or let go of, their pain.

This is one of the most powerful elements of counselling.  Counsellors are not afraid of the pains of their clients.  They will encourage and enable their clients to accept and experience the true depths of their pain ... and sit alongside them in it.  Unlike friends and family, who, understandably, don't like seeing their loved ones in pain and just want to make them feel better.  Who will dry their friends' tears instead of just allowing them to fall.  Who will tell them that 'everything will be okay,' when maybe it won't be.

Counsellors allow and empower people to truly accept and experience their feelings.  To accept that sometimes, things won't be okay ... but that the client will be in time; that they will find a way to live with things not being okay.

For me, it is a great privilege to sit alongside clients in their pain, and whilst they're in the counselling room with me, that pain is very real for me.  But to enable me to step into other peoples' pain, I have to be very self aware.  I need to know where I stop and where my clients begin; what is their 'stuff' and what's mine.

 And this comes from the ongoing process of self awareness and personal development that counsellors are encouraged to engage in.  If I took my client's pain out of the counselling room and allowed it to impact on me personally, I'd soon burn out and not be able to engage in my work. 

 I need to have a very strong sense of who I am so that I can freely enter my client's world, knowing that once that client leaves me, I am free to step fully back into my own  ...