An Open Letter to the Shambhala Sangha: Sexual Misconduct and the Buddhist Project Sunshine

Dear Sangha,

I am writing this letter in light of Buddhist Project Sunshine, a healing initiative started by Andrea Winn to address sexual abuse in the Shambhala Community. 

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Angela MacKay.  I am a clinical psychologist working in private practice in Halifax, Nova Scotia. As a sexual abuse survivor myself, my psychotherapy practice has naturally focused on working with sexual abuse survivors and healing sexual trauma. 

  I have been involved with the Shambhala community since 2005. While I am a student of Her Eminence Mindrolling Jetsün Khandro Rinpoche, I have always considered the Shambhala Sangha my Sangha as well, my spiritual community when I am not able to be with my teacher and her practitioners in Virginia, USA. 

In my experiences with Shambhala, I have never personally experienced any sexual abuse, harassment, or inappropriate behaviour of any kind. But I had heard stories of those who did. Just whispers of abuse, always told in past tense. 

“It’s not happening anymore,” I told myself.  “It’s safe now.”

And then I read Project Sunshine’s Phase I Report. And those whispers of abuse turned into screams. Screams of the unheard survivors. 

  They said, “It’s still happening. It is not safe. “They” know about it. And they’re trying to cover it up.”

I was mortified. I felt betrayed. And I was angry, angry at a religious organization that continued to open its arms to the public, allowing me and countless others into the Sangha, knowing full well that abuse was happening behind closed doors, putting more people at risk for almost fifty years. 

When reading the survivors’ stories, I couldn’t help but wonder: Which teacher sexually assaulted them? Have I ever been alone with that person? Did I attend that program? Did I have that meditation instructor? Was I ever in danger? Am I in danger now? Is my five year old son?

Sexual abuse has no place in a spiritual community, or anywhere, for that matter. Not only is abuse unethical and illegal, but it goes against the very Buddhist teachings that we try so hard uphold. The karmic effects of abuse are all-pervasive and last a lifetime, harming so many more people than just those abused. Like a weed, abuse must be pulled out and destroyed, allowing the full potential of the Buddhadharma to grow and flourish.

After reading the Sakyong’s “apology” letter and Project Sunshine’s Phase II Report detailing the sexual misconduct of the Sakyong, I felt sick. My heart broke. 

The voices, they quietly said, “Yes, the Sakyong, too. The Sakyong did it, too.”

Thank you, brave survivors, for breaking the silence and speaking up. You are true Shambhala Warriors. Thank you, Andrea Winn, and all collaborators on Project Sunshine, for your immense courage and commitment to uncovering the truth.

While I support Project Sunshine’s vision of an abuse-free Shambhala, this vision takes time. Right now, Shambhala is not abuse-free. 

Perpetrators are largely unnamed, untreated, and not held accountable. Survivors are largely unsupported, ostracized, and abandoned. And because perpetrators still hold positions of power and authority in the Shambhala hierarchy, the abuse continues, hidden under the cloak of patriarchy, tradition, and spiritual practice. 

While attempts have been made through Shambhala Care and Conduct to support abuse survivors in the community and deal with perpetrators appropriately, these measures, like Project Sunshine’s vision, take time to implement. 

So what am I going to do in the interim? What are you going to do?

After much contemplation, I have decided that until perpetrators in the Shambhala Sangha, including the Sakyong, take ownership and apologize for their actions, receive treatment, and step down or are removed from positions of power, I cannot, in good conscience, continue on with Shambhala as I have. I no longer feel safe for myself or my family to attend any Shambhala programs or events. I will no longer support Shambhala International financially in any way, as I refuse to support an Old Boy’s Club, no matter how regal its appearance. 

If you haven’t read them already, I encourage you all to read the Project Sunshine reports (Phase I and Phase II) and see the evidence for yourselves. A word of warning—they are quite disturbing. Reflect and contemplate on their contents. And then, once your mind has settled, once confusion has dawned as wisdom and clarity has come, then and only then, take action. 

What you do now matters. You have more power than you think. You, we, are the Sangha. We are Shambhala.

It is not too late to do the right thing. Perpetrators—Fess up, step down, and get help. Survivors—Be brave, speak up, and get the support you deserve. 

And the rest of us? Believe the survivors. They are not lying. Do not throw the baby out with the bath water. Use the teachings and practices that you have been given, use them as skillfully as you can—we need them, and each other, now more than ever. The Dharma is the only weapon we have to dispel passion, aggression, and ignorance, the root causes of abuse. So wield your weapon carefully, with compassion and wisdom, but decisively, with skill and precision. 

Rise up, Sangha, and take a stand. This is your community. Protect it. Protect the Sangha and all sentient beings, as you have vowed to do. Share this letter with others. Pass it on. Abuse thrives in silence—do not be its accomplice.

With love in Dharma,

             Angela

        Here is a link to a fundraiser I created for Project Sunshine, an art piece entitled “The Truth”, pictured above, inspired by a quote by the Buddha. Fifty percent of the profits will go to Andrea Winn and Project Sunshine.

Artist Talk: Come Learn About Celtic Knotwork and Possibly Win Some Art

To preview displayed artwork and purchase prints, canvas prints, and more, please visit the Knotted Words Celtic Art webpage at www.knottedwordscelticart.com

© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

Celebrate Poetry Month - Come to the Knotted Words Celtic Art Show

April is poetry month! Come celebrate poetry and the arts at my art show at the Keshen Goodman Library. Bask in the wisdom of the great writers, from T. S. Eliot to Mother Goose to Edgar Allan Poe.

To preview displayed artwork and purchase prints, canvas prints, and more, please visit the Knotted Words Celtic Art webpage at www.knottedwordscelticart.com

© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

Why Dystopia? How Dystopic Fiction Can Help You Improve Your Relationships, Gain Perspective, and Appreciate Your Precious Life

So last spring, when I was eight months pregnant, I had picked up this book, The Passage, by Justin Cronin, at a used book sale. I bought it because Stephen King had reviewed it, saying "Read this book and the outside world disappears." As a lifelong Stephen King fan, I trust him, and if he says it's good, then it's got to be. And so I purchased The Passage without a second thought.

But Stephen King's endorsement was not the only thing about The Passage that had caught my attention. The back cover blurb was utterly intriguing, one of the best I had ever read, so good, in fact, that I just have to include it here:

Deep in the jungles of eastern Colombia, Professor Jonas Lear has finally found what he's been searching for - and wishes to God he hadn't. 

In Memphis, Tennessee, a six-year-old girl called Amy is left at the convent of the Sisters of Mercy and wonders why her mother has abandoned her. 

In a maximum security jail in Nevada, a convicted murderer called Giles Babcock has the same strange nightmare, over and over again, while he waits for a lethal injection.

In a remote community in the California mountains, a young man called Peter waits for his beloved brother to return home, so he can kill him. 

Bound together in ways they cannot comprehend, for each of them a door is about to open into a future they could not have imagined. And a journey is about to begin. An epic journey that will take them through a world transformed by man's darkest dreams, to the very heart of what it means to be human.

Pretty catchy, eh? It really lured me in, making me want to turn to the first page. But alas, I was eight months pregnant, and had more pressing matters on my mind. The Passage would just have to wait.

Time passed, I went into labour, and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. For a couple of months, my life consisted of sleeping, breastfeeding, and diaper-changing, but The Passage still sat the bookshelf outside my bedroom door, just waiting for me to pick it up. Every time I passed by and glanced at its dark cover, I looked at it longingly, the emotional impact of the author's words still haunting me.

Finally, I could take it no longer—the pull of The Passage was just too strong. And so, one dark and scary summer night, while my three month old babe slept soundly, I picked up The Passage and started to read. From the very first page, Cronin had me hooked. It was terrifying—brilliant, beautiful, ambitious, and utterly terrifying. 

As a writer, I was captivated by Cronin's words and the world he created—strong characters, eloquent prose, wicked plot, I read on, knowing I had a lot to learn from this man, this Justin Cronin. With my heart racing and breaking at the same time, I reluctantly put the book down, knowing that I was supposed to sleep when the baby slept and that in reading The Passage into the wee hours of the morning, I was breaking a cardinal rule.

But once I started, I could not abandon ship, so to speak, and every night, when I collapsed into bed while my baby slept or my husband was caring for him, I entered Cronin's world. My husband had given The Passage a nick-name—"Scary Book" he called it, because that's what it was—a future so horrifying, that at times, I could barely bare it.  

I will admit to having mixed feelings about the book—I would look at it on my night table and ask myself—Can I go there tonight, to that very, scary place? And sometimes the answer would be no, and I would pick up another book, and try to escape from Cronin's world, but part of my psyche was always stuck there, wondering what would happen next. Within minutes, I would put down whatever book I was reading, and pick up Scary Book once again.

Cronin's characters are so strong that I did, at times, find myself weeping at the thought of raising children in the dark future that he had envisioned.  In those moments, I had to stop reading, and go and find my beloved husband and child and smother them with kisses and express my love and gratitude for them over and over.  Although my husband appreciated the frequent displays of affection that were the result of entering Cronin's world, he discouraged me from reading Scary Book, saying that maybe it was just too scary for me right now, and that maybe I might do better if I read something a just little lighter.

I agreed that maybe he was right, that maybe a dystopic literary thriller might be too intense for a sleep-deprived, breast-feeding, hormonal new mother, and for a two week period, I didn't read Scary Book at all.  

But did my psyche leave Cronin's world, you might ask? 

No, never.

His characters were always in my heart. They entered my dreams. I thought about them while I was in the shower. No, I had already entered Cronin's world—not reading Scary Book was not going to change that. I soon realized the only way out of The Passage was to finish it.

And so I dove in full force, letting the gravity of the tale propel me forward. In the end, I was wrong—The Passage was just the beginning of Cronin's world—of course, there is a second book, The Twelve, and a third to follow.

While I have read Keith Oatley's Such Stuff as Dreams: The Psychology of Fiction and knew that there is evidence to suggest that reading fiction increases the reader's social skills and their ability to empathize, my experience with Cronin's work deepened my understanding of just how much one work of fiction can affect an individual. For even though it has been several months since I have finished it,  The Passage has left its mark, changing my perspective about my life, my relationships, and my world like no other book has. 

Cronin shows me what could be, putting into words humanity's worst nightmare, painting a picture so clear and so real and so plausible that you swear that it's already happening. By showing me the horrors of what the future might hold, Cronin has helped me appreciate my life as it is, reminding me that as bad as things might appear to be when my luck seems low and my perspective is small, there is no way they could be as bad as they are in The Passage, and for that I am grateful. 

So if you are feeling particularly brave, I dare you to read The Passage.  I double dog dare you. See what you are made of. Read The Passage and change your life.

P.S. My Christmas present to myself was, you guessed it—The Twelve. I'm only on page 28, but so far, I'm impressed. And, get this, I'm still scared to read it—maybe I should call it Scary Book 2.

© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

Gothic Christmas Photos

Well, my first art show and sale at the Have Yourself a Gothic Little Christmas has come and gone. It was very fruitful—I met lots of amazing artisans and crafters, received positive feedback about my own work, and even sold a few pieces, which was very encouraging.

Here are some shots of me at my booth.

For more pictures of the whole gothic affair, please go to Jen Holtom's Facebook page and check them out. 

Have a Merry Gothic Christmas/Happy Holidays.

© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

Knotted Words Celtic Art's Debut Art Show and Sale

So here it is, my first official art show and sale, and the Have Yourself a Gothic Little Christmas Craft Fair is just the perfect venue for my work.

Held at Maritime Hall at the Halifax Forum on Nov. 30/Dec. 1/2013 from 11am to 7pm on Saturday and 11am to 6 pm on Sunday, the Have Yourself a Gothic Little Christmas Craft Fair and Sale is home to all things medieval, gothic, fairytale, and steampunk inspired. Hope to see you there, enjoying your gothic Christmas shopping spree. 

To view some of my inspirational celtic artwork, please visit my main website at Knotted Words Celtic Art or check out my profile page at Pixels/FineArtAmerica.com.

© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

Why Gothic Art? How the Dark Arts Can Lighten Your Heart and Your Life

So right before the Canadian Thanksgiving holiday, I posted a new piece of artwork entitled Spinning Celtic Skulls (pictured above), my vision of a glimpse into the mind of Lewis' Carroll's Queen of Hearts. When I pointed my artwork out to my mother, she took at quick glance at the image on my facebook page and her sarcasm was very detectable through the phone when she said, "Very nice, Ange. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too." 

Now, while my mother has always been very supportive of my artwork, she has never really understood my darker side. "Ange," she has said in the past. "I don't understand why you draw and write such dark things. You are so cheerful and happy. You are a nice person. How can someone with such a pleasant disposition create such dark, depressing things?"

And so, Mom, this post is for you—my attempt to answer your question and to go a little further, arguing that it is because I create such dark and depressing things that I am so happy and cheerful. 
This post is for anyone who does not understand gothic art, culture, and philosophy, for all the mothers out there who don't understand why all their teenager wants to do is wear black and listen to death metal, for all the people who would rather focus on the nicer, prettier aspects of life rather than acknowledging the harsh realities of death and impermanence.

But first, I have a confession to make. I am a closet Goth. I have always appreciated the Goth aesthetic, the dark hair and eyes contrasting with pale skin and dark, elegant clothing. I have never had the courage to dress that way, mainly for professional reasons—I don't want to scare my clients away. :-) But while I may not look Goth on the outside, I am definitely one on the inside and this is why.

For me, one of the appeals of gothic art and culture is the acknowledgment of life in all its aspects, its horrors as well as its beauty. Gothic artists and writers possess the ability to see the beauty within the horror. All these images of skulls and blood and death are just an acknowledgment of the truth of the human condition—we are born, we live, and we die. When we can honour the truth of death as gothic artists do, then we can truly appreciate life. In some sense, Buddhists do the same thing, contemplating death in meditations on emptiness of the body and impermanence. Why, one of the major tenants of Buddhist thought is the first noble truth, which states quite frankly that "Life is suffering." So for me, gothic art and Buddhist thought go hand in hand.

"But how does this acknowledgement of suffering and death make you happy?" you might ask.

Because it is a relief to acknowledge the truth. When I remember my mortality, when I remind myself that I, too, will die someday, I can finally relax and enjoy life with a lighter heart, an appreciation for every bittersweet moment as it is. It is kind of like when you were a little kid and you were afraid of what was under your bed and you couldn't go to sleep until you checked to see what kind of horrors lived amongst those cobwebs and dust bunnies and old comic books. When you finally saw what was there and what wasn't there, then and only then could you take a deep breath, and curl up under a pile of heavy blankets and snuggle off to sleep.

It is not until we acknowledge these horrors, both real and imagined, see them face to face and look them in the eye, that we get to know them and realize that they aren't as scary as we initially thought them to be, and that, my friends, brings a great sense of relief, to be able to think, "Ahhh, I will die someday," to never forget that fact, because we never know when that someday is. Maybe it's tomorrow, maybe it's today, and maybe it's 30 years from now.

And so when you look under your bed and your imagination plays tricks on you, and you swear you saw a monster under there, at least now you know what your dealing with, even if your mind has made it up to fill the space, to fill the terror of not knowing, at least now, your mind has given form to the worst case scenario, and believe it or not, my friends, knowing always makes us feel better.

The gothic art that takes us further into the dark side, the images of demons, vampires, and the like, things that the recesses of our mind like to dream up in their spare time, these images give form to the formless frights of our lives, our existential angst. And like the child in the night peering under the bed, in viewing these images, we can relax, and think "Ahhh, its only a blood-sucking vampire—I can deal with that. Ahhh, its only a brain-eating zombie—I can deal with that." But what we can't deal with is the all-pervasive anxiety that gnaws at our minds, chomping and chewing away every little bit of sanity we have left.

Creating gothic art makes me happy because it gives form to my greatest fears, allows me to see them for what they are, imaginary in some cases, the truth of the human condition in others. And being able to make the distinction between things as they appear and things as they are gives me a clarity and a knowing that cuts through any confusion that I have and lets me sit on the honey-coated razor's edge of the present moment, balancing precariously between light and dark, good and evil, resting in the here and now beyond labels, beyond form, beyond conceptualization of any kind.

It is here, in this bardo, this neverland of time, that true happiness resides, happiness without causes or conditions, contentment pure and true. So join me in that space beyond the niceities and horrors of the mind and see what you experience there. Visit the virtual homes of other gothic/fantasy artists, such as Myka Jelina, Charlene Murray Zatloukal, Jasmine Becket-Griffith and, of course, the infamous Tim Burton, and notice your own reaction to the dark arts. 

To view more of my artwork, please visit my main website at Knotted Words Celtic Art or check out my profile page at Pixels/FineArtAmerica.com. If you are interested in learning more about gothic art and culture, you can check out Gothic Beauty Magazine, sold locally at The Paper Chase on Blowers Street in Halifax.

© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

Stress Management for New Parents: Five Simple Things You Can Do to Help You Cope With Your New Bundle of Joy

So one of my first blog posts ever was "Stress Management for Parents", something I had written long before I actually became I parent. And while I still stand by most of what I had said before, there are a few things I would change about what I had written now that I have a four month old baby.

First, I would make the list of coping strategies shorter. New parents have enough new things to learn and do—any tips I have for them need to be small, simple, and to the point.

Secondly, I would rank the items from least important to most important. Sometimes doing one extra thing is enough to put a new parent (aka me) over the edge, let alone five. Now I realize the importance of giving parents ranked options so that they have a sense that what their stress management priorities are.

So, with that said, here are is Angela D. MacKay's Guide to Stress Management for New Parents. The five simple, most important things you can do to help you cope, in descending order, are:

5) Do something fun while you're baby is napping. All new parents hear "sleep when the baby sleeps", but I disagree. Sure, you need your rest, but you also need some connection to your life before you had a child, and that means doing something of the fun things you used to do in your down time. The key word here is "fun" and just to clarify, what you find fun when you're exhausted and you're life is turned upside down is very different than what you found fun when things felt more balanced. It may be as simple as watching a television show with your partner, or reading a novel while your partner, family, or friends are looking after the baby. As tired as I was, within the first three weeks after my beautiful babe was born, I was reading a novel and writing in my journal while my husband took over the evening feeds of pumped breast milk and supplemental formula. Reading and writing, things I did frequently before my baby was born, reminded me that there was a world outside of parenthood, and that eventually, I would have more of a connection with it.

4) Take some time to problem solve about things that would make your life easier. I was a pretty organized person before I got pregnant, but baby brain left me feeling a little less smart and a lot less organized. There were many important things I didn't yet have when my water broke eight days early, including a night-light, a soother, and a bottle warmer. What you expect to need when you are having baby may be quite different than what you actually need once your baby arrives. Taking the time to think about my options, to talk things over with my partner, and get support from other mothers allowed me to figure out what needed to change and what I needed to tweak in order to make things go more smoothly.

The decision to supplement breastfeeding with formula was huge, and at first, heart-breaking, but I soon realized what a dramatic change introducing formula would bring to my life. No longer would I be engaging in breastfeeding-related activities for 15 hours a day, going without food for five hours at time, breastfeeding and sobbing, wondering when and if my baby would ever be full and how much longer I could feed my child without losing my mind. Now, I breastfeed my baby for an hour at a time, and someone else can feed him a bottle while I go do the things that I need to do to take care of myself. That one choice changed everything for me—wiped out half of my stress, and spread out the responsibility of feeding my child to others, rather than having it fall on me alone.

So take the time to think about what choices you need to make in order to get the most stress-reducing bang for your buck. Tweak your physical space to make it more organized and efficient as needed—organization and structure in the physical world will decrease the chaos in your inner world. Find the supports and structures you need from within the community as well as your friends and family.

3) Tune into your body to figure out what you need to do for you. In those precious moments of quietude when your baby sleeps, just take a moment to tune in with yourself and get a sense of what you need to do next. Do you really need to take a nap? Is food a priority? Do you need a shower? Do you need to talk with someone? Or do you just need to be alone? Only you can answer those questions, only you can tune in in the moment, and discern what you need to do right now. Being present with yourself helps you better respond to both your needs and your baby's needs—when you are at your best, your baby will be at their best, too.

2) Know when you need to ask for help. This ties into number three. You need to know your limits, to know when you are too tired, too hungry, or too emotional drained to properly care for you and your child. Err on the side of caution—do not wait until you are completely overwhelmed to ask for help. I learned that the hard way. Many a time in those first two weeks, I knew I was about lose it after about 2 hours of breastfeeding, but I kept going anyway, thinking that I could just feed him a little bit longer, that he'd get full soon enough.

The result three hours later? A sobbing, hungry Mama and a wailing, hungry baby. When I was finally able to ask my husband to take over before I got so overwhelmed, things were much less stressful for all of us.

And the number one thing you can do to help you cope with your new bundle of joy? You guessed it...

1) Exercise. Now, I know some of you are thinking, "Come on, really? You want me to exercise right after having a baby? That's just not possible." Again, let me qualify that by saying that what you would do as exercise before having a baby, during pregnancy, immediately postpartum, 6 weeks postpartum and 12 weeks postpartum are all completely different.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, exercise is defined as any activity that requires physical exertion. That's all I'm saying—get up and move and you'll feel better.

As a new mom, I spent most of my time sitting—sitting and breastfeeding, sitting and changing a diaper, sitting and reading a story. For me, ten days postpartum, "exercise" was sweeping and moping my kitchen floor. Oh, you won't believe how good it felt, working up the tiniest bit of sweat! I had no idea that I could ever love cleaning my kitchen so much. Finally, I could get up and move!

At one month, postpartum, "exercise" was a twenty minute leisurely stroll with my baby and my dog.

And now, at four months postpartum, "exercise" is roller skating by myself for a half an hour while listening to Rob Zombie's "Dragula" over and over again.  And the difference in my mood is night and day. Even my husband has noticed a significant change in my overall demeanor.

"Are going roller skating tomorrow morning?" he would ask. "I can stay home and keep an ear out for the baby." Because he knows when Mama's happy, everybody's happy. And what makes Mama happy is roller skating.


And so there you have it—Angela D. MacKay's Guide to Stress Management for New Parents. Do keep in mind that while this list is meant to be ranked in order of importance, as you can see, they each tie into one another, and only you can discern what you need to do when. The bottom line is that you need to trust yourself more than anything, even more than the books, more than the professionals. Give yourself permission to take care of yourself as well as your baby and everyone will be all the happier.

© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

The Healing Power of Celtic Art: How Celtic Art Helped Me Heal My Body and Mind After Giving Birth

So I just had my first baby this past May and the recovery from labour and delivery was not exactly what I had envisioned. I had imagined myself strolling through the Halifax Public Gardens eating an ice cream while pushing a peaceful, sleeping baby along in a stroller just weeks after he was born. I had imagined myself walking the dog while my newborn babe slept cuddled up to my chest in a snuggly.
I had imagined myself roller-skating at six weeks postpartum and being able to practice yoga again.

Now, those of you who are already mothers might be saying to yourselves, "Angela, what were you thinking?"

But my expectations were not as far off as to what the books and the nurses tell you. I was being optimistic, I suppose, but not unrealistic, but boy, was I ever off in my expectations of what my healing process might look like.  I had a hard labour, 22 hours, a natural birth as I had hoped it would be, but I was not counting on pinching a few nerves in the process, thereby rendering my left foot practically useless. Walking down the hall became a huge challenge, and when they sent me home from the hospital three days after giving birth to a beautiful baby boy, I knew it would be a long time before I'd be taking my little one on a leisurely stroll through the Public Gardens.

I was aware that moving around and getting outside were vital for my mental and physical health, and yet my life-lines to the outside world were as shut down as the nerves to my left foot. My husband, family, and friends were very supportive, but I knew I needed something that I could do on my own in order to cope. Without being able to safely walk carrying my baby, what could I do? What could I do to keep myself sane for the next two months while I sat around my house waiting for nerves to heal?

I could draw, that's what I could do.

So while my baby napped, I drew. I drew celtic spirals and celtic knots and celtic vampire bats and celtic mermaids and celtic versions of fairytales. I drew celtic spiders and celtic angels and celtic butterflies. I drew and drew and drew and drew some more. I drew celtic art 'til my head was spinning and I went to bed seeing the under/over repeating patterns of the never-ending lines, weaving in and out, over and under, until I drifted off to sleep. I drew when I should have been napping, because I knew that it was the celtic art that was keeping me going, the never-ending lines keeping me sane when my life had changed so much. My baby slept and I drew. For the first month, that's all I knew. Breastfeeding, diaper changing, and the never-ending lines of my celtic art.

Over time, my nerves healed and I could walk again. Hurray! I thought, I can go out an play! But again, my hopes were dashed, as my energy level was so low that a twenty minute walk felt like running a marathon.

And so I kept drawing. More celtic knots, more never-ending lines, more celtic spirals that spun endlessly into infinity. And my baby slept on.

And now, almost four months postpartum, I feel like myself again. I'm roller-skating almost every day, doing yoga, walking the dog with a sleeping baby in a snuggly, and yes, we have even made it to the Public Gardens several times. And while my baby sleeps, I still draw, maybe a little less now that I feel that I have my mobility back, but the lines must go on and so I draw whenever I can.

It wasn't until recently that I discovered that there is such a thing as Celtic Art Therapy, an experimental form of art therapy where clients trace the lines of closed line celtic knotwork, apparently taking clients out of the fight or flight response and into a more mindful, meditative cognitive state. And while there is only limited observational evidence and case studies to go by, I cannot help but reflect on my own subjective experience in creating celtic art and drawing all of those lines.

Is that what I was doing, drawing my brain back from fight or flight into a more meditative state? While there is no conclusive evidence to suggest this is so, I am curious as to what you think.

Below is one of my earlier pieces of celtic art, my rendering of a celtic "T" from the Book of Kells.

Now, you may have to zoom in super close, but grab a pencil or a pen, and start tracing the red line, start anywhere you like, and just notice what happens to your body and your breath as you follow the knots under and over one another.

Does it make a difference in your brain chemistry? Does it change how you think, how you breath, what you feel? Does celtic art have true healing power? I'll leave that for you to decide.


© All rights reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay.
www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

Emotional Boundaries: How to Hold Your Ground in the Midst of Fear and Chaos

So… as you might imagine, being a psychologist, at times, can be an intense job—people's stories pulling on my heart strings, as well as their stress and emotions tugging at my nervous system. Being able to stay grounded is at the heart of what I do.

So how do you do it, you might ask? How do I hear the sorrows and woes of others without becoming stressed or overwhelmed myself? Well, after years of practice, I've learned a few tricks of the trade and I thought I'd share them with you.

But before I share my secrets, there are a few things you need to understand about people and their emotional states. First of all, emotions can be contagious—negative emotions spreading from one person to another like some infectious disease or fungal outbreak, positive emotions spreading as quickly as a gentle smile and a few kinds words. Which way it will go, an infectious contagion or infectious good cheer largely depends on how we respond to the emotions of others.

You see, human beings are much like a tuning fork. A calm, grounded individual can be a calming presence to someone who is stressed just by being calm - what they say or do isn't as important as how they are saying or doing it - whether their words and actions come from a place of fear or a place of presence. Imagine what would have happened if Chicken Little, when frantically trying to make her way to the King because the sky was falling, had come across a calm, grounded Turkey Lurkey. The story might have turned out very differently, don't you think?

But beware: the emotions of others can pull us out of our sense of calm, leading us into a whirlwind of emotion. (Chicken Little is a great example of this, and look at what happened in that tragic tale—All of the farm animals were pulled into Chicken Little's fear, and followed her around to find the King only to be led straight into a dark cave and eaten by a fox.  Ahh, such needless suffering…)

I don't want you to fall to the same fate, so here's a few pointers that might help you stay present and calm even though those around you are overwhelmed by fear and strong emotion:

1) Notice your Breath: Very often when we are stressed, we are not breathing to our full capacity. It is the breath that separates us from life or death, quite literally, and if we are not breathing, we are generally not calm. So slow your breath down, nudging it into deep, even inhales and exhales. The breath calms the body, which calms the mind.

2) Notice your Body: Are you feeling tension anywhere? Bracing yourself in any way? If you are, notice it and see if you can bring awareness to it, letting it soften and let go with every exhale.

3) Notice your Posture: Are you leaning forward, all hunched over, stifling the breath? Are you leaning back, almost as if to avoid the intensity of the emotion coming at you? Neither will do. The term "being centered" means that quite literally - we need a long spine, vertebrae stacked on top of one another, our feet connected to the earth, our head and heart open to the sky in order to be "centered", as it opens up the breath, which gives us both the energy and the wisdom to deal with the situation skillfully.

4) Notice your Surroundings: Do you know where you are? Or has the stress of the other person made the physical environment a blur? Tune into the five senses, letting your eyes take in whatever you see around, your ears resting on whatever sounds they notice, and so on. Bringing our awareness to what's around us can help us regain perspective and help us see the wisdom of the big picture.

5) Trust What Comes: When we are present, we are in tune with others and our environment, and our words and actions seem to be just what is needed. Trust that you will say and do exactly what the situation requires.

6) Repeat the Above Over and Over, as Needed: Being grounded and present is not a static state - it is something we must tune into over and over again.










© All Rights Reserved. Angela Dawn MacKay
www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac

When the Hare becomes the Tortoise: Why Procrastination is Okay Sometimes

So I never procrastinate…Okay, that's not quite true—anytime I use "never" or "always", I know its not quite true. I sometimes procrastinate—there, that's a little more accurate, probably more so when I was younger.  In junior high, I used put off doing my French homework so I could work on my English essays. In high school, I worked on my History paper rather than working on my chemistry assignment. And now, I choose to edit my manuscript instead of completing my yoga teacher training homework.

But lately I've been wondering if this pattern can really be considered procrastination. I mean, I always got my homework done on time, usually early, in fact. I just did it in the order that I wanted to, rather than getting all the boring, hard work done first. And then recently, just the past few years, I decided that there was something wrong with this attitude, that I should more be "responsible" and do things the "right" way, whatever that was. So I started doing the hard tasks first, adopting a "first work, then play" attitude. And more recently, just two month ago, I realized I had made a mistake.

It all started with summer, I swear. The sun came out and all I wanted to do was play, play on my computer, play with my dog, play outside, play inside, play at work—I wanted to play everywhere I went. And while it's not hard for me to relate with most tasks as play, I, like all of us, still have hum-drum tasks that I have attend to, like my yoga teacher training homework.

You see, this was the first time I've ever had "homework" in the summer, and I, like a rebellious teenager, did not want to do it. In the past, I would have gotten it done the day after it was assigned, but now, I was in quite a conundrum: I wanted to do other things instead. And then I had to ask myself, was it a bad thing to do my homework two weeks before it was due rather than a month before it was due?

And the answer I came up with was no, it wasn't a bad thing. In fact, it was good thing. It means that I'm learning how to relax, how to have a better work/play balance, acknowledging that for everything there is a season and the season of summer is play. It's not about work then play or play then work, its about working when you need to work and playing when you need to play. As a kid, I knew that, lived by that, but now, as an adult, I got caught up in trying to be the hare when, in fact, right now, I'd rather be the turtle.

So if you're like me–zoom, zoom, zoom, always on the go, always on the ball, always getting things done – try a little experiment. Let the ball slide a little, don't drop it completely, but see what happens if you don't catch it right away. The sun did not come crashing into the earth because I didn't do my homework immediately, and chances are it won't if you relax a little, too. Even though, technically its considered procrastination, in moderation, its good for you, like a glass of red wine or a piece of dark chocolate.

So enjoy your summer. I know I certainly will. :-)

©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay
www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

Playing Your Way to a Healthy Lifestyle: How to Have Fun, Be Active, and Stick to Your Exercise Regime

So when I broke my arm and sprained my ankle last year, my physical activity level naturally slowed down to match my physical capacity at the time. It wasn't until recently that I realized that even though I am completely healed, I'm still not as active as I had been before my injury. 

Now, I love to move, love to be active and explore my body's limits, but somehow, I had become quite complacent in my more sedentary lifestyle, preferring to knit and watch movies over getting out and getting moving. 

As summer approached, I realized I wanted to do more, move more, to do something outside, but I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do. And then, at a Roller Derby game, it hit me - I wanted to roller-skate. 

I used to roller-skate as a child and absolutely loved it. At the bold age of nine, I would scout out the longest, flattest, smoothest driveway in the neighbourhood, and then knock on the house adjacent to it. When the door opened, I introduced myself and asked if I could roller-skate in their perfectly groomed driveway. No one ever said no. I would skate for hours and hours on end, loop after loop, until I had to go home for supper.

And so, with fond childhood memories in mind, I bought some skates, really awesome black ones called  "The Urban Roller", with bright green wheels and matching laces, and donning my bike helmet and all the protective gear I thought I would need, I ventured out to the Oval, and skated in circles on the pristinely smooth cement that laid before me.

Round and round, I went, my body surprisingly remembering how to skate after 25 years of not having four wheels precariously placed under my feet. Listening to Bob Marley, and sweating up a storm, I remembered why I loved to skate as a child. I was enjoying it so much didn't want to stop, but alas, I had to go home to get ready for work.

And now, a month later, I can't wait to go roller-skating! I curse the rain that interferes with my fun just as I had done as a child.

While roller-skating is great exercise, it is not the thought of burning calories that keeps me going round and round. It is the experience in my body, the burn in my legs, the smooth feeling of my feet rolling over space and time, the heat in my cheeks, and the light, joyful that sensation that fills my heart.

And that made me wonder, why do I sometimes struggle to be physically active as adult, when being active came so naturally to me when I was a child?

In reflecting on my experience with roller-skating, I came up with a few ideas about what makes for an addictive exercise experience:

• Engage in physical activities that you think are fun, the key words here being "you" and "fun". Don't do what your mother thinks is fun, or what your friends think is fun, or your even what your psychologist thinks is fun. If you think it's fun, then you'll look forward to doing it, you'll be excited to do it, and most importantly, you'll actually do it.
• Approach the activity as play, not as goal-oriented activity. As a kid, did you say to yourself, "Okay, I'm going to roller-skate for at least an hour so I can burn at least 600 calories?" No! We played for play's sake, because the experience in and of itself was satisfying. We did not have any sense of an attachment to a specific outcome, like flat abs or buns of steel. So let go of your ideas of calories, and muscle tone, and just enjoy the confidence, energy, and joy that naturally comes from being fit and active.
• Mix it up. As a kid, did you just do one thing, the same thing every day of the summer? No! We played hopscotch and jumped rope. We played lawn darts, racket-ball, and with hula hoops. We climbed monkey bars, and swung on swings, explored the woods, and scrambled up trees. So do a bunch of fun things and explore your body in different ways, rather than getting stuck in the same old routine at the gym. 
• Remember what "fun" feels like. Be present in your body when you're moving. Notice how your body feels before, during, and after the activity. It is that positive body memory that keeps us going back for more.

©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

The River of Energy: How to Get Out of Anxiety's Fast Current or Depression's Deep Stagnation and Get Back into the Flow of your Life

So, this metaphor is totally cliche, but it works, and that's why I use it. I feel a bit like Forrest Gump saying this, but here goes:

Your energy is a River, like this River.

When it's flowing smoothly and moving along, that's when we feel energized, grounded, strong, and happy. But when we get going too fast, doing too much, our minds and bodies spin out of control, floating too high towards the surface of the river and we experience anxiety and stress.

And when we are moving too slow, dragging our feet in the flow of life, like heavy sediment and river debris, we sink to the bottom, stuck in the drudge of despair, lethargy, and depression.

In order to get out of the state of imbalance and confusion, we must figure out where we are in the river.

Those stuck at the bottom of the river need to gather gumption and momentum in order to get out of the mud and back into the flow of their lives.  People who are depressed need to move and move as fast as they can; running, hiking, biking, rock-climbing and more are some of the things that can you out of the mud. But getting out of the mud and into the flow is just the first step, the hardest step of the process.

Secondly, we must figure out ways to stay in the flow throughout our day and to notice when we are starting to sink back down into the mud. Walking to work, walking on lunch breaks, stretching at your desk, eating regularly, and drinking lots of water are all ways to stay in the flow. But move too much,
and we might get anxious.

And if we get caught in the rapids of anxiety, we need to slow down and float for a while. We need to sit still, get a massage, meditate, read a book, have a cup of tea or just take a break to let our hearts and minds slow down to their natural pace, not a rushed one we are imposing on them. But again, that is just the first step.

We must then figure out what we need to do every day to slow ourselves down, things like doing less at work and home and having smaller "to do" lists, and more "to be" lists.

Once you notice where you are in the River, you'll have a general idea of how to work with your energy to get back into the flow and ease of your life.

Speed up or slow down? What do you need to do right now?

©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

My Birthday Celebration/Death Contemplation: Contemplating Death in Order to Celebrate Life

So my 36th birthday was just a few days ago.  I took the day off, with several things on my list of fun things to do to celebrate, including a morning of wandering and taking pictures, first of flowers in the Public Gardens and then gravestones in Camphill Cemetery.

Why, you might ask, would I want to visit a cemetery on my birthday? Well, let me tell you a little story about that. I have always loved walking in cemeteries, even as young child, and most certainly as a teenager, when I was completely obsessed with Anne Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles. I have always experienced a sense of spaciousness among the silent, falling gravestones, a serenity that confirms my hope that the Dead do, in fact, rest in peace.

I grew up near a graveyard, and would frequently walk there, wandering in and out of the granite headstones, tiptoeing in between the grass-covered footstones, trying very hard not to walk over the actual graves themselves – it seemed disrespectful to the Dead, somehow, to step over them while they slept. 

As I grew up and travelled abroad, I continued to journey to wherever people remembered their Dead: the old graveyards of Scotland where the rich, dense moss clung to the gravestones like a second skin; the haunting, stone memorials that depicted the emaciated prisoners of Buchenwald, a concentration camp in Germany; the Killing Fields of Cambodia, where a towering glass monument showcases the skulls of those lost in Pol Pot Regime – a place where hundreds of tiny, yellow and white butterflies gather to offer solace and comfort to those who come to remember the horrors of war and genocide.

As I walked through Camphill Cemetery, taking photographs of the markers of lives lost, I remembered these places and the bittersweet feelings I felt when I had there - the heartache of sorrow and the joy and appreciation of being alive. I reminded myself, that I, too, shall die, and I, too, shall be nothing more in this world than a name written on a stone. 

And even though it seems like a depressing thing to think about on one’s birthday, it is the truth, and it’s a relief for me to acknowledge that. There is a sense of liberation that can only come from calling a spade a spade. When I acknowledge the path that lies ahead for me - suffering, old age, sickness, and death - the realities of the human condition – it reminds me of why I need to pay attention to my life right now, in this very moment, cherish my loved ones, and appreciate my health while I still have it. 

As I left Camphill and went for lunch, the words of John McCrae floated through my head. You may not know his name, but I’ll bet you know the poem he is most known for, for we all had to memorize his haunting words in elementary school:

We are the Dead. Short days ago,

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

loved and were loved and now we lie

in Flanders fields.

It is said in the Buddhist teachings that death comes suddenly and without warning. And with that thought to contemplate, I ate my birthday lunch – a lovely avocado melt and scrumptious chocolate brownie. With my own mortality in mind, I continued on with my birthday celebrations - a peaceful nap, an invigorating yoga class with a live drummer, and Thai take-out with my darling husband. It was a lovely day to be alive.

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

Procrastinating the Positive: Explorations on Why We Don't Do the Things We Love to Do

So, I was looking at the date of my last blog post and I realized it has been five whole months since I have written. Five months! How did that happen?

I love blogging, I really do. And yet, somehow, I didn't do it. And then I have to ask myself, "Why? Why didn't I do something that I love for so long?"

I mean, I could make excuses, some really good ones, too. I was editing a manuscript. I was taking art classes. I updated my website. These are all valid reasons for not blogging, and yet still, they don't seem adequate.

While I don't want to be hard on myself for not writing, I do want to explore why I didn't write so that I don't do it again. Why wouldn't I take the time to do something I love to do?

As near as I can remember the first thing that happened was that I just didn't post for a week or two. "Oh, I'll do that later," I said to myself, "I need to focus on my manuscript right now." Well, "later" turned into several months, which was not my intention at all.

After not posting for so long, I then completely forgot about my blog. How could you have forgotten about your blog, you might ask? The answer is, I don't know, but I guess I must have. I just forgot I had one, forgot it was something I used to like to do.

The next question I have to ask myself is, "How did I come to remember my blog?" Well, I updated my website, which has a link to my blog and then it came to my awareness that a) I had a blog, and b) I hadn't posted in five months. And then I remembered how much I loved blogging, how excited I was when I started the blog, and that was when I renewed my commitment to writing posts.

And so now, after careful exploration, I have discovered a few things that might help me blog more regularly, and I will share them with you, my dear readers:

• Set a Specific Intention: Note that I used the word "intention", not "goal". And so my intention is to write a blog post weekly, which does not mean I will actually write weekly, just that I intent to. And to even be more specific, I hereby declare Monday as Blog Day, a great way to start the week.
• Write That Intention Down and Tell Others About it: In writing it down and having others bear witness to it, you are more likely to follow through. That was my mistake before – I had always planned to write weekly, but I didn't tell any one about my intention, and so I was not accountable to anyone, and so had no reason to follow through. In announcing my commitment to my blog to my readers, I already feel more committed because I like to keep my promises. And so if I said I would blog weekly, by Golly, I will.
• Be Gentle When the Intention Doesn't Lead to Action: Being hard on yourself isn't actually that motivating – it is gentleness that eases us back into action. And so if I don't blog one Monday, I don't have to beat myself up – I can commit to blogging on another day that week, or if that's not possible, give myself permission to skip a week and blog on the following Monday.
• Remember Why You Want to Do It: When we can connect with our motivation of why we want to engage in a certain activity, it is much easier to remember that we want to do it, not that we have to. It was my fond memories of the experience of blogging that brought me back to post. We have to remember why we want to do the things we love to do. For me, I love writing things and letting them go, knowing that anyone in the world could read them. I love feeling connected with clients outside of sessions, offering my writings as a way to support others when they are not in my office. And I just love plain old' writing, that's really the heart of it. 

And so with that said, I'll see you next Monday. Or not. :-)

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

The Red-Eyed Multi-blob Monster: The Wisdom of the Inner Critic

  Once upon a time, in land not so far away, the land of your dreams, nightmares, and darkest secrets, there was a monster. And not just any monster, but a red-eyed multi-blob monster. Now, you may never have heard of the red-eyed multi-blob monster, but that doesn’t mean he does exist. 

He hides under doorways, waiting to grab your feet. He hides in the fridge while you look for something to eat, He hides in the shower, deep down in the drain, but he hides in the toilet when it starts to rain.

He’ll hide in your ear when your trying to talk, yelling sarcastically, always read to mock. He swims in your stomach like an eel in a moat, waiting to criticize something you wrote. He lurks in the darkness, always ready to find something wrong with you or your writing, stealing your peace of mind.

Does he seem familiar now, now that I’ve described him?

Maybe you know him by a different name, but he is the red-eyed multi-blob monster just the same. The critic, the judge, the hangman, the gunner – he’s just so mean it makes you wonder, why he’s there at all, why we bother to listen to that monster in the dark – he’s got no wisdom!

Or does he?

        Well, I do suppose, he's got lots of eyes, and those things swimming towards him, they are his spies. They swim through the world, peeking around, checking it out, peeking around without making a sound. They come back to report, tell him what they’ve seen, what they’ve heard, and where they’ve been. And then the monster eats them, eats them alive, taking in all that they were, though they struggle to survive. They wriggle and wiggle and yelp, and cry, just moments before they keel over and die. And then the monster, his belly full of information, stews and thinks, and performs a little divination, predicating how things will turn out, telling you what’s wrong without a doubt. 

         But then, I say, he takes it too far, like guessing how many jelly beans are stuck in a jar. It’s just a guess based on what his spies have seen, but we believe what he says, no matter how mean, or untrue it may be or unhelpful it is, maybe the monster should just mind his own biz!

But wait, maybe there’s wisdom in there yet. What if he could just see without saying a word, notice how things are without giving a blurb. Ahh, yes, that would do it, to see but not to say, and then without judgement, and without dismay, we can fix our mistakes and learn from them well, instead of cursing and swearing and starting to yell:

“I’m stupid! I suck! I’m no good at all! An artist? No! A writer? No – not at all!”

Ahh, yes, it’s the eyes of the monster that allow us to see, but his teeth, oh they give us such misery. So let his teeth go, let go of the sting and the bite, and then finally you’ll be able to write, at least the first draft, but then bring his teeth back, for they’ll be ready to have a snack, to chomp on your grammar, your spelling mistakes, and more – ah yes, I’ve got it – that’s what the monster is for!

And so, by golly, I think that I have finally made friends with the red-eyed multi-blob monster, oh yes, I can say that I have – no longer afraid of that voice in my head, the voice that tells me it's all wrong – in fact, it's that voice, in the end, that makes my writing solid and strong.

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com