Creative Woman Spirit: Dream Weaving Circles

My Bachelors’ Degree in Piano and Violin Performance looked like a mirage in

the desert that had just disappeared when my son was born in 1979. I woke up the following morning knowing that making my livelihood as a freelance musician was not going to work. The reality of motherhood and the likelihood of my needing to single parent changed the direction of my life.

Mr. Sparks, the kind and pragmatic career counselor, identified from his batteries of tests, 2 paths for me to pursue: interior design and counseling. I laughed when he told me the results because to me they mirrored each other: in interior design you changed the outside to reflect some inner impression or fancy, and in counseling inner shifts make room for a more harmonious outer life. Possibly the most valuable tool I learned from Mr. Sparks was how to network. As I interviewed interior designers and counselors of all kinds, my process began to unfold and led me directly into counseling.

For the next challengingly ambitious 7 years there was a flurry of classes, individual therapy, dream group therapy, trainings, workshops and finally a culmination of all my work into a Masters Degree in Transpersonal Counseling and Creative Arts Therapy and a Ph.D. in Women’s Psychology.

After I completed my Masters degree I hung out my shingle and began a 30-year career as a private practice psychotherapist. At first I was cautious and terrified so learning the ropes and feeling comfortable and competent was my challenge. It took many years to truly come into my own as a therapist. I had to develop therapeutic skills and find creative ways to turn concepts into my own practical craft. As I matured as a therapist, I began to identify my career as a calling and saw it as “soul” work.

Over the years my counseling became a therapeutic spiritual practice, which empowered clients to be where they were and helped me nurture my resourcefulness as a listener and witness. I became increasingly passionate about and dedicated to my work. Even the challenging aspects fascinated me.

I would have to say my strength and what I loved most about counseling was bringing symbols to life, especially through spontaneous drawings, psychodrama and dreams. The most challenging continual theme presenting throughout my practice was sexual abuse. My gift was facilitating group process.

There was one dynamic that kept reoccurring—especially in groups—that seemed to be a fundamental central healing key: recreating the past in the present. There was something about bringing together a group of people for the purpose of healing that collectively created a kind of hologram in which new experiences shed light on old problems. This dynamic made me aware of how each person was integral to the healing process of the group. I welcomed this dynamic because I knew when it showed up, something important was ready to heal for everyone in the group.

The story I want to share happened about 20 years into my work as a therapist. For many years I facilitated two weekly therapy groups called “Women’s Dream Weaving Circles”. This particular incident occurred in the first group I started in Rochester, NY, that had been meeting with the same 6 people for about 2 years. The group had become cohesive with a high level of sharing and trust.

I began each group with a guided meditation as we sat in a circle on the floor. One day in our brief check-ins that followed the meditation, an older woman in the group casually mentioned she had been sexually abused as a child. She told this flippantly and then laughed as if it was a funny joke. Each of the other women had a powerful reaction to this. They rejected her by pulling away energetically as well as from the other women. I knew this was our 1st group hologram and that I had a challenging session ahead of me.

With everyone unhinged and wanting to leave, I focused initially on the distressed group members. After some discussion they gradually opened up a bit. “Her sharing felt like a betrayal.” “Why had she shared this information in a way that was so disrespectful?” “Why hadn’t she shared it before?” “The way she told it felt “belittling” of the situation.” “Had her presentation been an attempt to downplay feelings?” “The laugh felt inappropriate.” “It’s hard to take her story seriously if she doesn’t.” I glanced around at the body language--crossed arms and bodies turned away from the circle.

I knew we were wading deeply into deep unconscious waters and were in vulnerable territory. The stakes are always high when one of these holograms is created. The fracture that occurs can be the end of the group or catapult you into an entire level. I was keeping track of what was happening and trying hard to contain the energy and keep it moving in a positive direction.

I gave the group members the job of holding the energy of the Circle while I worked with the “presenting” woman. They seemed to like having a job outside of themselves and all those feelings. I asked the woman if she was willing to work on her experience of what had happened. She readily agreed.

From what had been acted out within the group, I pictured her in the hologram as a little girl, looking to those around her for help to stop the abuse. No one took her seriously and they rejected her for bringing it up. Now, she had formed this new group—where her relating was the same as with her original family—trying to flippantly get attention with the hope that now, someone would believe and be there for her.

The group had also been triggered into the hologram. Feelings of familiar past experiences of not being supported, believed or respected made up that picture for all of us. Working with these holograms is complicated and because of the 2-hour session, quick thinking, tremendous energy, vast creativity and a bit of magic is required to guide everyone safely back to shore.

As I begin gently working with the woman, it doesn’t take long for lashing anger to come to the surface. Her anger is forceful, but feels like a temper-tantrum coming from a little girl—out of control and misdirected toward the group and especially me. It is not difficult to feel that the anger has nothing to do with us. Still, I can sense everyone’s anxiety escalating as the woman rages.

The 2 hours is almost up and I am running out of time. I am watching the clock along with everyone else—every minute bringing us closer to getting out of there. Everything is breaking down now and it feels like an insurmountable mess. As the intensity increases I find myself wavering, struggling to keep control of the group.

I try reminding myself I have worked with these situations before. I trust my natural abilities and experience and know that what is happening might lead us to a healing breakthrough. Using all the skills I’ve developed over the years and banking on my intuition that has never let me down, I ask the group members if it would be possible for them to send healing energy to the woman from their hearts if she sat silently in the middle of the circle. I ask the woman if she would do this. Everyone is reluctant, but agrees.

When she gets into the center, the woman begins to cry. She had trusted the group members to be there for her and they had responded the same as her family had in her original wounding--rejecting her because of the way she shared her deepest, darkest secret. I suggest that the group members hold hands to ground us and attempt to feel some solidarity. Suddenly I feel disoriented. I experience disconnect between my mind and my body. Weariness is overtaking me—like I can’t endure holding things together another minute.

Just then, I catch a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. My little Tibetan Spaniel therapy dog, Johnnie, is running at breakneck speed into my office through the open double pocket doors. He jumps over the connected hands forming the circle of group members and lands in the lap of the woman. In that instant the tension breaks. There are tears of relief. I take a deep grateful breath.

Johnnie has given us exactly what we needed--an unexpected jolt into the present. He has brought us back from the flooding of our collective feelings as children and refocused us on the healing we are creating in the present. It feels like we have just been stopped from tumbling over a dangerous precipice.

After that awful, amazing, nightmarish, enlightening session, we had gained strength and made such transformative progress that we continued together as a group for five more years.

When my son was born in 1979, it quickly became clear that making my living as a professional free-lance musician was not going to work. Oddly timed, fluctuating jobs, which required a lot of daily practice, did not go together with taking care of a new baby. After collaborating with a career counselor, we identified that being a psychotherapist might be a good choice for me. I started immediately working on a master’s degree, double majoring in transpersonal counseling and creative arts therapy. When I finished, I continued on with my studies and received a Ph.D. in Women’s Psychology.

After completing my masters’ degree I hung out my shingle and began a 30-year career as a psychotherapist in private practice. It took a number of years to come into my own as a therapist. I had to discover my strengths and get help with my thin-skinned vulnerable weaknesses. I began to identify my career as a calling and saw it clearly as “soul” work. I gradually established a spiritual practice that encouraged people to be where they were and helped me expand my skills as a listener and witness. I became passionate about and dedicated to my work. Even the challenging aspects were fascinating to me as well as satisfying.

My strength and what I loved most was bringing symbols to life, especially through spontaneous drawings and dreams. My gift was facilitating group process. Sexual abuse was a continual theme throughout the years in my practice and I would guess about 75% of my clients had been
abused. Many presented with no awareness or memory of the abuse and then through our work with their symbols and feelings, the deep wounding would be revealed and the healing process would begin.

This story happened about 20 years into my work. I had two weekly therapy groups called “Women’s Dream Weaving Circles”. My story happened in the group that had been meeting with the same people for about 2 years. That group had become cohesive with a high level of sharing and trust. I would start each group with a guided meditation as we sat in a circle on the floor.

One day in our brief check-ins that followed the meditation, an older woman casually mentioned she had been sexually abused. She told this flippantly and laughed as if it was a funny joke. All the other women froze, stopped breathing and energetically pulled away from the woman and from the group. I knew in that instant it was going to be the hardest group I had ever facilitated.

With everyone coming unglued and wanting to leave, I focused initially on the group members. Slowly they opened up and said what had happened had felt like a betrayal--after being what they all thought was a safe place to be honest. They began to talk about the affect the glib presentation had on them. Even after talking and sharing feelings everyone was still pulling away from the woman and waiting for the time the group would be over so they could leave. I knew this situation was critical and the fracture could be the end of the group. I was painfully aware of what was happening and was trying hard to keep it from falling completely apart.

I decided to give the group members the job of holding the energy of the Circle while I worked with the woman. They seemed to like having a focus outside of themselves. I asked the woman if she was open to working on what had happened for her. She readily agreed. As I began gently working with this woman it didn’t take long for lashing anger to come to the surface. The anger was powerful, clumsy and misdirected. I could feel the groups’ anxiety increasing even more than before. I had lost control of the group.

I asked the group members if it would be possible for them to send healing energy to the woman if she sat silently in the middle of the circle. I asked the woman if she would do that. Everyone reluctantly agreed. I was watching the clock along with everyone else—like every minute brought us closer to being able to get out of there. The whole thing was a mess!

The woman began to cry when she got into the center. These people she had trusted were rejecting her because of the way she had shared this difficult issue in her life. I suspected she had gotten the same reaction by trusted others when the abuse was happening. I suggested that the group members hold hands to ground us and as a way of feeling solidarity. I felt inadequate and terrified that our group would terminate after we had just reached a point where some deep work could be done. Was being done. Was happening right then!

Just as I was completely void of ideas and had practically given up, I saw out of the corner of my eye the flash of a quick movement. My dog, Johnnie, was running at breakneck speed through the open double doors into the room. He jumped over the connected trembling hands of the group members and landed in the lap of the woman. In that instant the tension broke. Everyone began to cry with relief. I took a deep breath. Johnnie had rescued us from what had felt like an impossible situation. After that awful nightmare session, our group was much stronger and continued together for five more years.