Arrive: The Evoke Parent Workshop Experience

Posted by Sabrina Marie Hadeed, MA, LPC Assistant Clinical Director & Therapist at Cascades on August 29, 2016

We arrived early at the conference space adjacent to the ever-flowing Deschutes River to set up for the first day of our Parent Workshop. Right away I noticed the tables and chairs had been arranged in straight rows from the front of the room to the back, modeling a standard classroom style. I took a deep breath and with a smile I enlisted help to immediately move the tables out of the way so that the chairs could be arranged in one large circle to accommodate the twenty parents and five Evoke participants.

The workshop is meant to be an opportunity for connection, learning, and self-reflection – but mostly connection. By sitting in a circle, we’re all able to see one another and make eye contact more readily. This proved to be an integral part of the experience.

As the parents arrived, I found myself searching specifically for the parents of my teenage clients that I knew only by voice on weekly phone calls. It was a surreal feeling to see the familiar eyes meet mine. One mother in particular had nearly identical eyes to that of her teenage daughter. I could almost literally see her daughter in her face. I found this to be quite a lovely thing. It was also meaningful to greet and make eye contact with each parent that I did not know, except only some of what their child might be going through. I know that not many professions promote eye contact for extended periods of time as a way to strengthen connection and vulnerability. I know that this may even sound a bit odd. I consider it a great gift. It is incredible to me that there is actual research supporting the claim that 4 minutes of eye contact increases intimacy. It isn’t that I am surprised by the research findings…but more surprised by the fact that we needed research to remind us.

All of the parents and Evoke team members were seated in the large circle patiently waiting for the facilitation to begin. Seated in the circle myself, I relaxed my body and took a deep breath in, letting it slowly out with an audible sigh. I then invited everyone else to do the same and to let their eyes close or find a fixed spot to gaze at on the floor. With paced breath and a heart full of patient anticipation, I guided the room of participants through a mindfulness exercise. “Arrive in this room. Really arrive. Take a deep breath in and let it out with a sigh and then let yourself breath normally. Notice your thoughts as they may be walking or racing through your mind…notice them without judgment. Recall all the steps you had to take to get here… really get here. Perhaps you flew in an airplane and sat beside strangers that have no idea who you are; the tears you have shed, the fear, the love, the hope… the experience of loving a son or daughter who was struggling and now trying to find their way back with the support of a wilderness therapy program. Perhaps you drove to get here and lost your connection to time as the road passed beneath your car. Recall the energy and planning it took to take time away from your lives to be here…now. Notice your body. Notice your breath. Maybe your shoulders are tense; maybe your legs are heavy. Just notice for now and arrive. Now gently open your eyes and look around the room. Make eye contact with a few people in the circle. You may not have met many of the people you see…and yet we all have something in common. We are all here because we love someone who struggles and we aren’t quite sure the best way to support them but we want to find a way. Even if that means letting them lean into their pain and not rescuing them from their struggle.”

I continued to pace my breath as I looked around the room and made eye contact with as many individuals as I could. This was the way we all arrived for the workshop. Without textbooks to steal our gaze, without desks to stand as barriers between our bodies, we arrived sitting in a circle looking at one another, not knowing what we might learn.

The remainder of the day was filled with waves of emotion. We heard 25 perspectives of pain, joy, hope, powerlessness, shame, guilt, and love. We watched YouTube clips that elicited rich discussions of addiction and disease, connection and loneliness, technology and isolation, young adult and teenage brain development, and the exquisite experience of being a parent. We reenacted family of origin dynamics and listened to some who recalled their own experience of growing up.

I noticed the metaphorical dance I was doing that felt almost effortless but also full of weighted intention…the balanced dance of teaching and counseling – listening and learning – containing and letting go.

At the end of the second and final day of the workshop, we ended arriving the way we began, staring into one another’s eyes…this time for an intentional 4 minutes. There were tears and deep breaths, smiles and giggles, awkward tensing and exhausted releasing…and most abundant was compassion and connection.The most rewarding feedback we received from a parent when the workshop was over was,

“I thought I would leave the Evoke Parent Workshop with lists of books to read, handouts and notes on lecture concepts. I love that I left Central Oregon with memories of staring into my new friend's beautiful brown eyes, attempting to make fire by 'busting', and having an incredibly rejuvenating “p-time” laying by the Deschutes River eating “Gorp”. This was a life changing experience!”

Each of us in our own ways, with our own unique stories and own unique vulnerabilities…arrived in those two days in a way that will fill my heart for a long time to come.