Best shower scene ever!

When people are hurting, we need to ask nothing from them. They have nothing to give.

Yep! That’s the title. That’s the content of what’s on my mind today. The best shower scene ever made. Also, people are more likely to read if there is a provocative title, so whether you are here because you’re a perv, or because you are a fan, let’s talk about this.

James Bond movies. I’ve loved them since I was a little girl. I think it started because my dad loved them, and we bonded (see the pun there?) watching them together. Bond had the coolest gadgets and cars and got to go to the most exotic places. (When people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said, “A spy.” Which breaks the number one spy rule of not letting anyone know you are a spy.) James often found himself in compromising positions with beautiful women. He’s never been a poster child for monogamy or for love. He’s been more of a “love the one your with” kind of fellow. But, things have changed.

In a recent 007 movie, Casino Royale, there is a two minute moment that is so beautiful. I show it to couples that I counsel. I use it to teach people how to love each other in a more meaningful way. (I probably should have titled this post “The Best Love Scene Ever” but some of you wouldn’t have clicked, and it’s probably you pervs that need to hear this the most.) So in Casino Royale, Bond (Daniel Craig) and Vesper (his love) have just been attacked by a gaggle of bad guys. Bond kills all of them. This is nothing new to James, but for Vesper, she is clearly traumatized, not being used to watching blood splattering and people being killed. James sends her off to tell his henchman where he has hidden the bodies and to get rid of them. He then goes back to a poker game with the ultimate bad guy.

Okay here’s the part that melts my heart. When James comes to the room, he finds Vesper sitting in the shower. He goes to her and…okay wait. You should watch this clip before we go any farther (skip to 2:15 to just see the shower part):

 

Did you see that incredibly unselfish display of love? She is sitting in the shower, fully clothed. He goes to her, without her asking, and sits with her, in the shower, fully clothed. Here’s the part I explain to my couples; he sees her, clearly upset, and without requiring her to do anything to receive his love, he joins her right where she is. In fact, he asks if she is cold and makes the water warmer. He makes her more comfortable in her space, without asking her to do anything. I’m tearing up writing about it. Do you understand the significance of this action? How good would it feel, when you are hurting or scared or broken hearted, to have someone come to you, right where you are, requiring nothing from you to accommodate them, and just sit with you?

He could have said so many things. “Let’s dry you off.”, “Let me take your dress off.”, “Come in the other room.”, “Stand up.”, “Come here so I can hold you.” He could have asked her to accommodate him so he would be less uncomfortable, but he didn’t. When people are hurting, we need to ask nothing from them. They have nothing to give. We need to go to them, accept where they are and stay beside them. Who “sits in the shower” with you? Who would you do this for?

The people you love need you to do this. Your children, your spouse, your friends. They need you to go to them and sit with them, accepting their feelings, not minimizing, not trying to cheer them up, not silver lining them, just being with them while they experience sadness, anger, loss, hurt, and letting them feel what they feel. We all just want to be accepted and understood in our dark moments. There is a time to help people move on, but there is a time to just “sit in the shower”. Who knew that cad Bond would teach us such a beautiful lesson about love?

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

 

I hit the wall…

Get ready guys. This one is brutally honest. Sometimes, therapists are the worst at self-care. We tend to worry more about our patients’ emotional state then we do our own. We sometimes over estimate our own resilience, thinking we can work our stuff out in our own minds. Notice how I’m saying “we” and “our”? That’s so I can convince myself that it’s not, just me. But actually, I’m just talking about myself. I thought I had safe guards in place. I was practicing good self-care, and yet in August I noticed that I wasn’t feeling like myself. I was feeling stressed, pretty consistently, and knew I needed a break from my job. But, I didn’t take a break. I kept going, and going and going. Then it was September and I knew I REALLY needed a break from my job. I was having mini anxiety attacks walking into my office each day, I was dreading going to work each day. But I didn’t take a break. I didn’t reach out for support. I didn’t go to a therapist. I didn’t do anything I should have done. I kept going.

Normal me

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present me
ash

Last week, on Tuesday night, I cried all the way home from work because of stress. I felt empty. I felt like I didn’t have anymore to give. I felt like a lesser version of myself. I kept saying to myself, “I can’t go back there.” Wednesday morning I woke up and cried getting ready for work because I didn’t want to go. I had a full blown anxiety attack driving to work. I got to my office and realized I had hit the metaphorical wall.

I texted a friend and they replied, “Heal the healer. You’re not taking good care of yourself.” I wanted to argue, but I knew it was true. In desperation, I contacted all my patients scheduled for this week, and cancelled them all. I thought relief would follow, but it didn’t. Guilt was all I felt. Guilt for letting my patients down. Shame for not being “strong” enough to keep going. Fearful at the financial consequences this decision might have. But, as I told one of my afternoon patients that I wouldn’t see her the next week, she asked why I was taking time off. I was honest with her. Do you know what she said to me? She said, “Thank you for modeling good self-care for me. If you can give yourself permission to rest, I feel like I can do the same.” That spoke to my heart. Maybe allowing myself to rest didn’t have to cause me to feel guilt and shame. Allowing myself to rest could be good for me, but for my patients as well.

Compassion fatigue is what it’s called. Here’s the official description, “Compassion Fatigue is a state experienced by those helping people or animals in distress; it is an extreme state of tension and preoccupation with the suffering of those being helped to the degree that it can create a secondary traumatic stress for the helper.” Dr. Charles Figley. As a therapist, my job is to extend empathy to my patients hour after hour. When I practice good self-care, I can give this day after day. But in August, when I didn’t act, knowing I was feeling this fatigue, the downhill slide got really slippery. My anxiety started to increase, my depression symptoms started appearing, but I didn’t let anyone know. I didn’t act in response to my fatigue. I tried to ignore it. I didn’t go to a therapist. I did all the things I teach my patients not to do.

So this week off, I’ve said “no” to everyone. I’ve rested. I’ve read and I’ve written. I’ve connected with nature. I’ve prayed. I know that I need to rest. and that’s not only necessary, but acceptable. My boss, Steve, was so encouraging of my time off. My co-workers were so encouraging of my time off. My friends were so encouraging of my time off. I realized if I would have reached out, I would have gotten support. No one expected me to keep going, except, well…me.

I know some of you have stressful jobs. I know some of you are caregivers. I know some of you are healers and first responders. I know some of you are parents giving at maximum levels 24/7. When you are feeling empty, please reach out. When you are feeling like you have no more, please acknowledge where you are and rest. When you are feeling like a lesser version of yourself, it’s okay to recharge with self-care. Don’t wait until you hit the wall. Don’t be like me.

Be kind (to yourself), be grateful, be courageous!

Jules