I have recently had the good luck of connecting with a therapist that does focus oriented therapy and has trained with Shirley Turcotte in Indigenous Focus Oriented Therapy. I did a years training with Shirley as well and it's a very mysterious process. One I can't explain in a few paragraphs. It's mysterious.and also very beautiful. I find the results of it, when held well, completely profound.

My last session had many things show up, and one I'd like to share can be summed up in a word. Pacing. The process of maintaining or creating a cadence that's sustainable. Having been swept up in a very emotionally challenging 2 years, where I've separated from a long term partner, been working on layers of family trauma, been trying to stay afloat financially as an artist, and all the little interspersed stresses of a life, I feel like I've been running for my life, at an incredibly high tempo, one that's not sustainable.

A component of that is that every stressed space feels urgent and needs to be tended to urgently, in order that it gets resolved. But I'm feeling clear today about one thing. Urgency around every issue, especially when there are multiples, is incredibly problematic.

What is resolution anyway? The end of our problems? No. I think rather that it's an idea that soothes our need to feel everything falls into a category that can be wrapped in a nice bow and placed in it's spot on the shelf. But there is always something else. And something else again after that. And if you've no problems now, you can be sure there are some coming. Some that need to be tended to immediately. Urgently!

What if there is a way to tend to problems that doesn't amp up our stress responses? One that is quiet and methodical, resting when needed, exploring tangents and holding court, all the while respecting time as an uncontrollable entity.

As I've sat with it, it feels like I cannot hurry or slow the pace of anything. The timelines that exist are not malleable but fixed to the pace required of it. With this idea in mind, I can more quietly and softly explore the tending to of things. My urgency does nothing in terms of coming to the end of something, it mostly seems to give me the false idea that I'm in control.

As I write about it, I'm reminded of the pace of people who are almost completely self reliant, people who live far from hospitals and supermarkets and convenience. People who work incredibly hard in order to have food and shelter and water. I'm reminded of some of the old people in my dad's village. Their pace was slow. Achingly at times. To put it into some kind of metaphor, they weren't hiking to the top of the mountain because they only had that day to do it and then back to work on Monday or because they wanted to put another feather in their cap. But they were still hiking to the top of the mountain. They would stop and rest in shadey spots, have a drink of water and a conversation or a smoke. There was care taken because they were the only one there to take good care of themselves, with limited resources. So, slowing pace added to the quality of care they could provide themselves. Twisted ankles are life threatening in certain scenarios these wise, self reliant individuals know.

So, I've.decided to treat my inner landscape like it's being traversed by one of these old, indigenous, and highly self reliant people. I'm the only one here to take care of myself and I need to slow the pace so that I can safely, quietly, and with less stress, walk these paths that are my life. And yeah, sometimes I like to run these paths but I've some choice in that. Urgency does not dictate pace!