Following Directions – Alternate Futures Institute

Therapist, Karen, and client, Jenny: it feels like film in a film projector–synced up–like we’re partners!

Karen tells me my feeling was about being able to support myself–in more ways than one! Though my body is still ambiguous below the waist, my undifferentiated sexuality being a problem–and there not even being a place for my legs and feet.

I feel like I’m not effectively growing–like a plant with no roots and a confused structure.

Nature is not working right for me–I am disabled, my biological self is broken.

Learned a lot when I broke my elbow; had to do physical therapy and practice my movements until I grew strong and could control myself. This was a metaphor for the work I had to do inside.

I feel like I only have mastery over my head and thoughts; everything below that is unconscious.

Before, I was omnisciently seeing myself, but now Karen and I are looking at me at the same time, together: it feels different!

My sense of self was not working properly; I didn’t feel whole or wholly connected.

When people tell me things I already know, I get irritated. I think this is because my mental territory feels invaded.

Our work is a co-created achievement, almost a place for me to play in and with; it helps me discover who I am.

This sensation is one of an incomplete self, without a fully developed inner wholeness translated into experience of my exterior

Talking with Karen in her office– working/playing with her through words–is a great sensation–and a creative one.

My ultimate query of this oppressive world…I identify with the flower as life, rather than the guys, though this will prove problematic.

Having a broken arm educated me enough to make this comparison. I remember my parents arguing…

Yeah! I love my body, including my arms! I am in touch enough to know when ideas make sense and are good, and I can appreciate other people…how old am I?

It was upsetting when I interacted with people because I lost my sense of self sometimes–but after I developed my own boundaries, it was great!

I had to grow lots of sense in order to fit in. But like a dog, I actually had really good senses in some ways, but was not allowed into the “Kingdom of God”–the Western cultures. I was an outcast.

I felt so much better when I got some color! Re-learning to see people with dark skin and be myself–with them and in general–was excellent!

Karen pointed out that my image of being on a high dive meant that there was something behind me, even though I was scared: my past–the ground

When manic, I felt far away from my people, even my sister–like I was in Antartica!

With my parts walled off, who was I?

Finally I can feel emotions without being scared of not being able to control myself!

As a 2-year-old, I knocked down stuff in a store and was mortified. Maybe I was experimenting with feeling assertive; my mom did not encourage this. But neither she nor the store worker were mad at me.

So what was the part of me that was walled off? Did it have to do with my bare-ass? I was certainly unhappy about the situation.

I felt displaced. Yikes! I couldn’t even feel needy

Another not-in-my-self-fully, very-immature-but-through-no-fault-of-my-own depiction. Notice how small my inner self is!

All in black and white–for no good reason.

Didn’t know because I couldn’t see!

I’m on the couch and she’s in her chair. Wow, it took us a while to start to be in the same room together!

This is kind of confusing, because of gravity–stuckness falls up here. The bottom hourglass shows improved relationships. Yay!

My limbs didn’t work–my mind/body couldn’t get me to interact and progress

Before therapy and after–I got half of me to add to the other half!

I see that I need to stop and smell the flower–and can take a break from doing doing do-ing, like a pinball.

Once my adolescence began, I was very shy with other folks my own age. I blushed a lot and could be easily embarrassed. Plus, I had nothing to say.

Though I am broken, I am healing. I stand in my life’s river, arm in a sling, but smiling!

I had felt kind of sterilized but can now put my tools in the grass and it’s okay–am starting to be able to play a bit in therapy; it’s healing

This image was not what I planned for the idea, it just came out–“Latters”–which looks like DNA–rhymes with “Ladders.” Plus, I am quite overweight here–not my actual state; am feeling full of the future, I guess, with the tools to climb up to a bigger reality

Karen and I are touching here and it feels good to my outer self, as well as my heart and soul inside

Karen had asked me what was the change I felt, and I came up with this. Again, I feel touched by our connection.

A reflection on myself in therapy–I have a sense of humor!

Another “before” and “after” therapy–this image just came out of me, I don’t know exactly what the cones are supposed to be, but the “before” does seem more disturbed, right?

This is a memory of what it’s like to be having a manic episode; it’s confusing and overstimulating

Two references to evolving. I like this painting a lot–these ideas are right on target for expressing the way I felt

Several ideas here–a repeat of the last one, #43; a sentiment that I am more in touch with my mind’s powers (using an English language expression–“My wits about me”); and an improvement in body awareness and capability

Am a human-type creature; among all Earth’s animals, I am a two-legged one, and am feeling stable.

My mom failed to let me feel good when asserting myself as a youngster. She and I were merged psychologically. I was like a tree while she was like a moving animal. It worked for years, but finally my therapy helped me regain an independent self and move on my own.

Here’s a confused me seeing a reality that wasn’t there. I have been overweight in my life, but not that much! Still, when I was fatter, I could see better, for some reason–I painted a me looking out of the mirror. As a little kid, I went though several stages of being chunky.

Yet another mirror image. Feeling different from my fellow people.

Merging was out of my control and unpleasant.

I was still attached to my old psyche, the one full of problems (like scary rocks in the sea); finally I grew the ability to go on by just not dwelling on them.

My life has been insane: I didn’t develop normally, but I have been able to heal. Am in the process in this picture of integrating my previous experiences into a now-self.

It’s odd to think I need(ed) others, like my therapist, to help me grow myself, but maybe everybody is like that. If I had grown normally psychologically–as a child–maybe it wouldn’t seem so weird.

My angst has taken the back seat in this picture! I am feeling pretty good compared to the past!

To let myself be seen by a good see-er is what I’ve needed. Karen is the big person with grey hair, facing me, and I’m the little person with brown hair facing her.

Finally, I have the supplies to care for myself inside! My body, my mind, and relating–finally there are enough of each tool!

Now, instead of doing everything coarsely–like using a machete to cut the grass and stuff–I have the equivalent of a lawn mower and a little knife, which are much subtler, giving me more choices in how to behave and interact!

This image came to me years before my therapy with Karen: I felt like I was a pterodactyl circling the Earth that had nothing on it, just a positive pole and a negative pole–I think I was moving from yin to yang but couldn’t stop

I am alway trying. My senses are powerful–even if my culture would give me a rest, I keep on.

A nice self-portrait of a happy me–using the roads to myself, holding my dove, “Love,” feeling empowered–even wearing a crown!

I’ve learned to care for my little baby self!

Like I was made a wire mesh, sometimes I was there and sometimes I wasn’t–before all the therapy, I was a real piece of work!

When I have clothes on, I can see myself in the mirror–or the mirror image can see me. But naked, I don’t know who I am and cannot see myself reflected!

I have felt close to Karen in many ways, but, as we both were aware, identical twins–kind of like she and I–are separate, too.

What the hell’s going on inside me? I can’t see myself when I am inside my body and mind! This was my original complaint, I can see, looking back (though when I started therapy, I was simply following directions, doing what my family and society said were good for me.)

This was the way I felt for much of my life; I didn’t know how to communicate and experienced Western language being rather ungraceful. I was alive and near people, but that wasn’t the same as relating well.