On Therapy and Art

I think I've mentioned it in passing in a previous post this month, but I recently started a Level 2 Counselling Course online. I've almost finished my second unit, which explores the integration of different theories and their practice within counselling relationships.

But being the nerdy little bean that I am, I've been doing a bit of further reading. Over the last couple of days, I've discovered two therapeutic frameworks that have really whet my appetite: Narrative Therapy and Person-Centred Creative Art Therapy.

You can probably guess why I, as a performing arts professional, was excited to dig deeper into these two modalities. I think most creatives instinctively know the therapeutic and alchemical power of art. But to see 'legitamate', if niche, psychological theories backing up this instinct was exciting to discover.

You've probably heard of Art Therapy, even if you've never received it before. Person-Centred Creative Art Therapy focuses on the client creating art in their medium of choice (drawing, dancing, music, writing etc) to explore and express their emotions and experiences. The therapist facilitates this by providing a non-judgemental environment for the client.

Narrative Therapy, on the other hand, was a completely new concept to me. This therapy involves creating life stories that are more beneficial, by separating problems from the people involved and exploring the various narratives our life story contains. This is a very simplified explanation - I only started reading about Narrative Therapy today and I'm still digesting.

One of the things I find so compelling about these two modalities is how they tap into many aspects of my profession that I love. I'm passionate about the power of stories as an ancient tool of connection and change. As for emotional-processing through art, I've definitely indulged at certain times in my life. You bet I was in the music practice rooms singing "I'm Not That Girl" after my first major breakup.

But I also think learning about these psychological theories was a little serendipitous for me. Especially now.

I've been struggling to reconcile my creativity the horrific things happening in our world. With the horror and death and poison in the soil and on our screens. I think repurposing our creativity and using it to process and express what is happening, even imperfectly for ourselves, can be a powerful tool for grieving. I’ve definitely censored myself by saying my pain shouldn’t be centred during times of collective trauma, or I should only process through art if said are will be good enough to be shared. But art doesn’t have to be public to be valuable in our lives.

Obviously I'm not the first person to realise or suggest this. And plenty of people have probably been doing this their whole lives. But it was a useful revelation for me.

I also think that the ability to re-author our life story could be a potentially powerful tool for both self and collective actualisation. It’s clear how rewriting maladaptive narratives can help up achieve our goals. But I hypothesise that separating problems from people, accepting that problems are separate from us, could help overcome the sheer amount of apathy that still pervades society.

When we remove the egoic need to single-handedly save the world - when we accept that ecocide, genocide, fascism etc our not our sole problem to overcome but part of the world our story is set in - what stories are we freed up to write for ourselves? How do we, as the hero, show up in this world? Does our character follow their conscience or convenience?

I’m still processing the potential implications and applications of what I’m learning. And I’m not sure if my thoughts so far are completely distilled, so apologies if this post is a bit waffly. I guess my take away for now is this:

Make art and live your best story.

Previous
Previous

The One Where a Toddler is More Badass than Me

Next
Next

6 Things New Theatre Goers Need to Know