Mindful. Thankful. Full.

Last week while at the Brophy Center I sat in on an in-house training on “mindfulness.”  I am now job shadowing in the intake unit for Headspace. The training was put on by one of the staff social workers.

Intake through Brophy’s Headspace is for about half self-referred youth off the street, and half councilor or court referrals. “Youth” means early teens to mid twenty-somethings.  Basically it is listening, being someone to talk to, hopefully someone to trust, and then triage to another service unit in Brophy or elsewhere.

The range of service wants and needs are fairly typical: housing; safety; transportation; medical treatment; psychological and psychiatric wounds; food; crisis relief, and the list goes on.

Also all too typical is staff burnout from a steady diet of the above. Thus, this mindfulness training was a reminder to take care of one’s self, and tips for doing so, as a means of being best able to help others too.

One of the references or resources for the training was “31 Day Mindfulness Challenge,” by Laura Green, a local psychologist. It is available for free as a download from www.smashwords.com. (For those so inclined, on Ms. Green’s own web site there are a variety of links and references regarding autism.) 

One of the first things of which I was mindful, and thankful, was how I was included in the group. I was the only male, and I had not met most of the others in attendance before. “No worries” as they say here. Feeling welcome, being welcomed, is a very powerful force.

We have been so very, very welcomed here.

Ann and I were recently at the town civic green for a weekly summer art event, one of the “paint offs” where two artists duel with creating and painting a work of art in two hours. The artists facing off that week were a mother and daughter, and we happened to be sitting with Barry, the husband/father.  We soon learned that Barry is also a musician, a recording artist, a traveller, and now teacher of song and story in elementary schools.  It was a great connection in many ways.

Barry and I talked about working with youth. He talked of the lack of connection with place as a struggle facing so many “troubled” people. Not to over simplify, but he talked of aboriginal dance and the importance of stomping feet to establish and confirm place and space in it. This juxtaposed with modern dance seeking to lift off the ground and disassociate.

A few days later Ann and I are at open studio at the Artery. We end up buying a painting from Rachel, Barry’s wife, and then ran into Barry a bit later on. He has the address of a local lawyer for me to contact about homeless issues, gives us two CD’s of his work, and we get invited to dinner next week.

Barry talks with us again, this time of the importance of what is often seen as “wasting” time with folks, particularly those of another culture, so you can then “work” with them. I am mindful of prior council Hmong outreach efforts at home, of my work with Native Americans, of meals with Willie Hyman, and trying to be there for those without a home. I am mindful of the imperative grounding of sharing time as a crucial foundation to being there, and of going anywhere with another, instead of an other.

Being grounded in space and not lost in it requires touching and feeling.  Sense of place is a sensory experience. Often, it is the feeling places that are the most palpable, even though they may be very ethereal. When in the space of another, the connection of how they touch their world, of how they feel, is needed to be there with them.

We have received many gifts while here. Our friend Paula recently gave us the notion of “adjournment” when she asked us how are we preparing for our return. Ann and I were both a bit at a loss with a response. We had prepared in many ways for coming here, and being here. The work of going back hadn’t really crossed our threshold yet.

Taking stock of what makes community for us, what we give, what we receive, is a connection of here to there, of now to then.

Adjourning seems to be a summary of an ending that is at the same time instructions for a beginning.

Being mindful of what we are thankful for fills me up.

Full speed ahead.