I write this post after a restless night playing over the Kavanaugh hearings and the numerous conversations I’ve had with women triggered by this painful spectacle. I’m sure others spent their night similarly. 
​
Every woman I know—every single one—has been affected by sexual violence, either personally or through those they know well. This is because sexual violence is all too common in the US, with 1 in 3 women and 1 in 6 men reporting experiences of contact-related sexual violence in their lifetimes. The rate goes up when looking exclusively at the sexual violence experiences of women of color, LGB  and gender non-conforming people, and those who live at the intersection of these identities.
​
This all means there is a large collective who is suffering deeply at this moment, many in silence. If you are one, I see you. Your response—whether sadness, disconnection, stoicism, denial, rage, anxiety, avoidance—is okay. You don’t need to be any other way than you are right now.

Healing is not a linear process. Strong winds have the power to push us off course, sometimes propelling us back to places we’d hoped never to revisit. And we’re in the middle of a particularly destructive storm.

The path (back?) to safer shores can sometimes seem impossible to find. This is understandable, particularly in a society that does much to increase survivors’ suffering through victim-shaming and blaming.

There are strategies, though, that can illuminate a way forward. This Lifehacker post* offers several that I wholeheartedly endorse, including setting boundaries around media consumption, grounding yourself, and practicing deep breathing. I invite you to read the article and experiment with some of the strategies as one way to gift yourself healing during this triggering time.

Whatever you decide, please know you are not alone. You are not to blame. Your trauma does not define you.

For those lucky enough to be chosen as a survivor’s confidante, you too have an important role to play in the healing process. Maximize this role by choosing to listen carefully to the survivor’s story. Avoid the pull to judgment or, worse, neutrality. Strive, instead, to be actively supportive, letting the survivor know you hear them, believe them, and will be there for them. Then, follow-up by checking in to reinforce your care.

If you have regrets about your previous responding to a survivor’s story, try to avoid a shame spiral. In the wise words of Maya Angelou, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

In peace and solidarity,

Earlier this year I gave myself the gift of a silent mindfulness retreat. I spent a weekend in the beautiful foothills of the Georgia Mountains deepening my metta meditation practice.

Metta is Pali for loving-kindness. And this meditation does just that - focuses attention on the cultivation of loving-kindness toward oneself and others (benefactor, dear friend, neutral person, difficult person, all sentient beings). This is done partly through the internal repetition of phrases for each category. 

The meditation always begins with extending metta to yourself. The idea being you need to first have unbounded love for self before you can have unbounded love for others. We spent almost an entire day of a three-day retreat meditating on the self, an indication of the difficulty we have seeing ourselves as worthy and unconditionally lovable.

I left the retreat full of love…and loss.

You see, I was the only woman of color – the only person of color, in fact - among the 30 retreaters. This has become a regular occurrence in my wellness pursuits, although I live in a diverse metro area.

My mindfulness practice encourages the acceptance of an experience for what it is versus lamenting what it isn’t. Even so, I feel loss when I’m The Only: loss of the opportunity to remove all of my protective armor, to be fully recognized, to exhale.

My sister-friends who have the means to participate in wellness activities – which I’m clear is a privilege – express reluctance about being vulnerable in what will likely be all-White or mostly White spaces. They fear experiencing some racial injury while in search of healing. The residential nature of retreats adds to this fear.

I get it.

As a psychologist who has spent 20 years researching and teaching about health, I can’t ignore the numerous benefits to body and mind of unplugging, finding time for self, just being. So I choose to continue participating in these wellness activities despite the drawbacks.

But the loss of opportunity persists.

When we broke silence, I questioned the retreat leaders about the lack of diversity among the participants and the need for more outreach to communities of color who are suffering in these painful times. Their response acknowledged the problem without much solution. One of the facilitators did emphasize that metta is centered on loving actions as much as loving feelings, which for her includes working toward a more just society.

Since this retreat, I have thought a lot about the notion of loving action. It reminds me of Wangari Maathai's telling of "I Will be a Hummingbird." In this fable, a hummingbird was trying to put out a raging forest fire by filling its little beak with water and emptying the droplets on the flames. When asked by the larger animal bystanders why it was doing something so useless, the hummingbird responded, "I am doing the best I can."

What is the best I can do? Although that answer is ever changing (thanks, Liz Roemer, for this wise tidbit), I know it’s more than lamenting the lack of wellness opportunities for women of color, especially since I have the skill to add to those opportunities. So I’ve started experimenting with creating what I wish for.

With the assistance of lots of amazing people, I facilitated a day-long faculty wellness retreat for women of color in May. This retreat was all about pausing, reflecting, renewing, and connecting through practices shown to reduce stress and amplify joy. There was yoga, dance, mindfulness, sister circles, laughter, and tears.

As I was leading the last activity of the day, not coincidentally a metta meditation, I looked around the room at the 25 women of color in attendance and felt the power of our sisterhood. It was without exception the highlight of my professional career.

The positive response to the retreat was deeply humbling and motivated me to step out of my comfort zone and plan a weekend retreat for women of color faculty. It will be held October 5-7 in those same beautiful Georgia Mountain foothills.

I am clear that these retreats won’t singularly change the wellness industry or the individual, institutional, and systemic factors that injure women of color. They are, however, acts of love for my sisters and for myself. And that’s a start.

Special thanks to Nyasha GuramatunhuCooper, Michelle DiPietro, Kami Anderson, Joycelyn Moody, Michelle Boyd, and Nicole Guillory for their support in helping me be a hummingbird, not a bystander.

In peace and solidarity,

​Do you perceive time as going by faster and faster? Do have little memory of what you did last week...or even last night?

If you answered yes and yes, you might be stuck in a rut, a place where your days are horribly predictable. When we do the same things over and over, our brains stop paying a lot of attention, leading to lack of memories and the perception that time is passing quickly.

Need proof? Think of your last commute to work. I bet you can't even remember what happened. 

The cure is simple. Add novel experiences to your life.

Not only do novel experiences create lasting memories, they slow down time. [The longer an activity takes the brain to process, the slower time is perceived.] This means the more fun, novel experiences you have, the more you feel like you're living a full rich life. And don't we all want that feeling?  

So make this month--and all the months to come--one to remember by breaking out of your rut and trying something new.  Here are 10 big and small suggestions to get you started.

1. Take a trip to a new location (even for a day).   

2. Better yet, plan a Monthly Novel Experience, like white water rafting, wine tasting, zip lining, or tent camping. 

3. Learn a new skill. I recently participated in an 8-week mindfulness course for therapists. Not only did I deepen my mindfulness practice, I learned new ways to teach mindfulness to students and clients.

4. Mindfulness bonus: paying attention to the present moment also slows time down.

5. Throw an old school house party. Nothing says novel and fun like grown folks singing Prince's Purple Rain at the top of their lungs.

6. Call a friend you haven't talked to in a while. Shut off all potential distractions and really catch up.

7. Go bowling on a mid-week morning. I do this at least once per semester with colleagues and always have a wonderful time (even when my final score is in the double digits).

8. Take yourself out to a nice lunch instead of eating at your desk. Eat slowly, attending to the flavors, textures, and aromas of the food.

9. Have a surprise weekday family game night. Buying new games to play ups the novelty quotient. Our family's favorites are Sequence, Clue (I'm the reigning champ!), Uno, Sorry, and Monopoly.

10. Take a moment to savor small unexpected positive experiences, like a compliment someone gives you. 

If you have a novel experience you'd like to add, please share it in the comments below. 

In peace and solidarity,