I've written before about Rachel Remen's Healer's Art course. I'm honored to be co-directing this year's course, and giving the introduction tonight, as well as opening thoughts on discovering and nurturing your wholeness. I think I need to revive the blog--writing is so therapeutic! Here's what I've prepared for tonight.
When Rachel Remen often talks about Carl Jung’s theories about the human psyche, in particular the “persona” we portray to the world through repression certain aspects of ourselves in an effort to be accepted. Jung described the personal as a mask that we each wear that hides our deeper self. He describes this deeper self as the “shadow” or the hidden side of the human psyche. The shadow self includes not only the darker parts of our nature, but also the brighter aspects of ourselves that we hide--sometimes consciously, and other times unconsciously--because it might be too risky to reveal these parts of ourselves to others. We trade wholeness for acceptance. Jung believed that healers must work with their own shadows to be able to help others most effectively, because of the fact that this editing of ourselves to happens outside of our conscious control.
I grew up in RI, in a family of 5, the oldest of 3 kids. My mother’s family is an extremely close Irish Catholic bunch. I think the combination of our family’s closeness and weekly church attendance cultivated my need for both close community and space for reflection. As I progressed through high school, I became deeply involved in our regional CYO group, participating in and then leading weekend retreats. I loved the opportunity for self-discovery--to delve deeper into myself and finally be the one to name who I truly was: compassionate, generous, loving. Have you ever thought about the labels that get placed on us by others from the moment we are born? I loved watching others discover their true selves as well, in a space that was safe to do so. As an introvert I am terrible with small talk and really just want to know what makes people tick, and what exactly went into the process of making them tick just so.
In middle school, one of my teachers once said, “A woman interested in math and science can write her own ticket.” I couldn’t believe my luck--I wanted to write my own ticket *and* I was interested in math and science! I wasn’t quite sure where that would lead me until I started working in the food service department at a local hospital. I loved passing out meal trays to the patients, getting to step into their hospital rooms--the intimate space held for both illness and healing. While waiting for the elevators I’d often look at the walls which were decorated with pink and yellow drawings of various viscera demonstrating the connections within the organ systems of the body. I realized that medicine was the perfect intersection of my curiosity for the human condition and my love of the sciences.
After college I moved to Boston to gain some research experience before medical school, and found yoga. I loved taking the time to literally twist and unwind in a quiet, reflective space with others intent on the same task. I must have practiced yoga in over 30 different studios in New York City in medical school. I was a coffee shop studier, and would tote my books, my yoga mat, and my journal with me from the Bronx in to the city a couple of times a week. I found that coupling my studying with yoga helped my focus immensely.
During residency I continued with this self-care ritual, running from my afternoon clinic sessions to catch evening yoga classes here in Tucson. One month I challenged myself to practice 30 days in a row--I think I only made it 28 days, but I thought it was pretty good for a second-year resident.
And then I had kids, and that led me to a whole new level of self-discovery. Being a physician is often difficult--uncertainty is often not allowed or accepted, productivity is the mark of success, stamina is valued despite long hours of work and study to prepare for that work, and there is always great pressure to be right in each of your choices. Parenthood shares some of these similarities--uncertainty in new parents often invites unsolicited advice from others, stamina is demanded by infants who need to feed at nighttime, and there is always pressure to make the “right” choice for your child.
When my older daughter was an infant, a patient told me that I wasn’t the same since having her. He essentially told me that my attention to detail was slipping. It probably was, but I didn’t want my others patients or my colleagues to start to think this way about me. I began to cover up my neediness, my shadow self that, when well tended to, allows me to enjoy the interconnectedness of life. I needed sleep, I needed exercise, I needed time to myself, and those needs were not being met because it was hard for me to keep up the pace of being a busy doctor and a super-mom. My care of my needy shadow self lapsed. I felt like a fake and sometimes a failure when urging residents or patients to tend to their own self-care. I became a snippy mom with not very much patience for my infant daughter. So what did I do? I worked harder in the office, and I spent as much time with my kiddo as I could... and it made me miserable.
I remember working with an ENT who was treating one of his patients, a Vietnam vet, for allergic rhinitis. The patient was in that day for a refill, but clearly had mental health issues as manifested by his exceptionally flat affect. “You know, doc, I’m just concerned that maybe my problems are related to the Agent Orange,” he started to say. “Yeah, and all that stuff you were exposed to. Well, here’s your script,” said the attending doctor as he slid the prescription across the table. “See ya in 3 months.”
I feel so privileged to be able to validate my patient’s experiences and worries. But I am less able to do this when I don’t take care of myself--when I don’t practice yoga, when I don’t get enough sleep, when I’m not eating well. I’ve found that I really need to make space to nurture myself so that these qualities show up in my daily life--in my family, and in my work with patients. When I give up on the opportunities to connect to myself it makes it much more difficult for me to connect with the others around me.
So I practice office yoga--I unroll my mat in between morning and afternoon sessions and do online classes in my office. I (sometimes) write to get all of those intrusive thoughts that tie up my concentration out of my head. I’ve taken Facebook off of my phone so that instead of checking to see which friends liked the cute picture I posted of my girls, I’m actually focusing on my girls.
Our shadow selves that we hide away are often the softer parts of ourselves, the vulnerable parts. Our society doesn’t value vulnerability. But often those parts that get hidden are the ones that are most important to maintaining our true selves because without them, you wouldn’t be you, and I wouldn’t be me.
Rachel Remen says that it’s important to find ways to remember yourself. (And that’s what we’re going to do tonight! What rituals or practices do you have to help you remember yourself?)
