On Viewing William Morris' Tapestry of Adoration, by E. E. McCardell (1984)

 A poem I wrote in 1984 I think is worth revisiting. Here it is:

 

  Hwaet!

A dream came to me

At  deepest midnight

-       The dream of dreams!

I shall declare it.

 

Through wave over wave of wind

Lilies wove soft music

In the warm evening air.

 

By the gently lighted milk-white moon

I saw a lovely lady clothed in blue –

A babe at her breast

And angels bowed before them.

 

My eyes were undimmed, the glass to God

  clear

I saw the hard smeared rood

Heavy with blossoms

And sweet Miriam reach and pluck them

In her blessed hands.

 

And celestial psalmody sang:

“IT IS RIGHT!”

 

Set before me fair full of wine –

Or was it blood?

A fire wrought vessel

And bread –

  Flesh?

And in wave over wave of wind –

Evening shifted to darkest night

  and

I slept, my dream done.

 

Whither is this lady now?

She waits in love

within each our hearts.

 

 

Laying Down the Path in Walking by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD

 

April 2025

 

Every morning I swim in the ocean, mostly doing backstroke so I can gaze at the sky and watch the clouds and the occasional bird or plane. The other day I bumped into a fellow (obviously I can’t see where I’m going) and his comment made me laugh. He said, you are going forwards yet backwards at the same time. Forwards and backwards simultaneously. It got me thinking.  As a metaphor for my daily life, this is as true for backstroke, as for life. As I go about my day, I reflect on where I’ve been = at the same time. Travelling forward each day, and reflecting on it,  wends a path in the process of making it and it is through the doing of it that I’m making sense of the world around me.

 

I’ve been mulling about this sort of thing for years. We think we are making decisions before we actually make them; we like to believe we plan our moves, but – as the Buddhists say, “we lay down our path in walking,” in living it. Our decisions are not made beforehand in a sort of clinical architectural office, but in the process of engagement, of everyday enactment.

 

This is not to say that any systematic organized strategy for going forward can’t

help, but it works because it utilizes earlier knowledge/skills. It is extraordinarily difficult to choose to do something we have no experience in.  I would have practically no clue in how to fix a car, for instance. I don’t have much of a knowledge base in this regard.

 

I’m reminded of a high school friend who used to spend all her time working out study programmes, rather than actually reading and writing her required school work. She never got around to doing the work because she really didn’t know how to do it, not having a background in the subject at all, and not having the wisdom to start learning either. You can’t start from nothing; you have to build up a knowledge base in order to move forward.

 

Encountering the next experience is an evolutionary one: just as choices are made according to what has gone on before, so the remembered experience fleshes out the next one. The accumulation of experiences, recognized as such, makes for a rich life. Just thinking for a moment how horrible it would be to lose one’s memory: for the process of remembering to be replaced by dismembering. The richness of the present moment would be replaced by confusion. The anchor to knowing where you are is lost.

 

I watched a short video of a woman with mid-stage Alzheimer’s Disease talking about her lived experiences. She, interestingly, said that she could make sense of the world when the light was on, but couldn’t grapple with any of it in  semi-darkness. If she dropped a newspaper while the light was on, she could pick it up, but in the semi-dark, though she would trip over the paper repeatedly, she didn’t have the wherewithal to stoop down and remove the paper from the floor. Her sight was her anchor to useful enaction in her world.  Jonathan Cole’s book Pride and a Daily Marathon describes how a man who had lost his bodily awareness through acute illness could only move if he could see where his limbs were in relation to the ground. Cole is an English neurophysiologist who remains intrigued by how bodily awareness, movement, memory and a sense of ‘I’ interact. Disconnecting parts of an otherwise ongoing interactive process amounts to dis-membering memory and confusion reigns.

 

Yes, we lay down a path in walking, but for the richness of that experience to be felt, we need to remember what has gone before and – at the same time – know our bodies as we move forward. The whole thing together is wonderfully rich and enjoyable.

 

Therapy is the art of drawing all these experiences together into an exciting whole so that we can use our pre-existing knowledge to explore new places in our lives. I note that I’m available to do counselling online. My email address is dr_mccardell@yahoo.com

 

 

Freedom to choose. By Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD

 

March 2025

 

“So live as if you were living already for the second time and as if you had acted the first time as wrongly as you are about to act now!” Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

I like this quote very much. It sings to me, especially after last year’s brush with serious illness and near death. Live abundantly, drink deeply of the springs of existence, don’t waste your time. Live and choose wisely.

 

We may or may not live again, who actually knows. Whether or not consciousness manifests in other bodies after our physical death, this is finally unknowable. Right now, this life we live is it.

 

Too much time in most lives are lived as though what is happening in this instance is just a preparation, a practice run, for a better life. But in this way, the experiences of now are somehow set aside, until we die – meaning lives are spent in anticipation: a dream for perfection, or heaven, or whatever.

 

Frankl’s observation about living now is living in all its messiness. This doesn’t mean just going along mindlessly with whatever crops up; what it does mean is living life with purpose. We are, after all, given free will and a sense of determination for living meaningfully, for us individually and as a community. Enough research has found that when we give up  a sense of a meaningful life we fall into despair and deep depression.

 

Frankl (26 March 1905 – 2 September 1997), neurologist, psychologist, philosopher was a holocaust survivor, spending four years in three concentration camps. He lost his family and his wife and, effectively, was forced into the realization that the search for meaning matters to psychological health. Afterall, what was the point of all the suffering?

 

Several years ago when my brother and I travelled to Estonia to catch up with our relatives there, I asked my Estonian aunt what it was like under Russian rule during USSR times (the Soviet Union only recognized the independence of Estonia in 1991) and said, “Remember you are always free in your mind.” She was Estonia’s first paediatric surgeon, trained in St Petersburg. She knew really tough times, but difficulties didn’t constrict her. Freedom to think, yes, but Frankl goes further, freedom to choose what you respond to. 

 

It is hard not being reactive to everything, and this requires conscious effort.  I was put to the test repeatedly while sick in bed in hospital.  I had to practice equanimity (evenness of mind) on a minute to minute basis and sometimes I succeeded. Sometimes, I really didn’t. My temper flared in the face of what I perceived as the stupidity of others. It flared when things didn’t go smoothly and without fuss. It flared when my breakfast wasn’t the one I’d ordered. It flared when the nurse couldn’t come and elevate my legs to relieve the pressure sores that were forming on my heels. When I was cold and someone had taken away the extra blanket. When…. this and that happened. Suffering is no different a time for practicing self awareness and choosing one’s responses than when everything is going well.

 

How can we achieve equanimity and responding to things that affect us with conscious awareness?

 

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom,” so said Frankl.  This space is not somewhere where the mind is filled with conditioned responses, nor platitudes, but a short interlude in which a fairer response is possible. In Buddhism, this space between in where a compassion arises.  This is what I see the meaning of my life is: to know compassion and express it not just in times of comfort, but stress and awkwardness. We humans are beings of great potential. We can choose cruelty and greed and can choose fairness and love.

Whatever  we choose arises from our decisions, not the conditions in which we find ourselves.  

 

 

Learning to be ourselves by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD

 

 

 

Learning to be ourselves by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD

 

A girl, born twenty or sixty or two hundred years ago to a woman who was dislocated from her family by war, thrown out of sync with usual ordinary things, develops severe asthma and needs, according to her parents, constant monitoring. She was never left alone. All the little girl knew was struggling to breath. The more she struggled, the tighter the parental vigilance and control of her life. Literally, there was no air to breathe and she did not find herself as herself, but always as something looked over by others. In time, the asthma subsided, but her feeling of being in the public space never really did.

 

Everything in her place had to be kept clean and untainted by the lingering presence of another person, her clothes had to be washed after visiting other people, her furniture had to be taken outside and scrubbed down if anyone else had touched it; her place was her place. Very OCDish. Still, though, his mother came and entered her place, still telling her what to do, to think, to eat. Her life outside her mother’s presence was indeterminate and a bit chaotic, because she still didn’t really know who she was. She was getting older, but still trapped in that purgatory of undifferentiation. Mother, at one point, decided daughter should marry the nice guy over the road, and she did. This life, though, was not her own.

 

 

It is critical that children find their own feet. For sure, support and security is essential, indeed critical for human and animal development. Without security and support a little infant does not develop confidence to venture out into the world without intense anxiety. This is the principle of attachment theory as described by John Bowlby (1907-1990). Security and support, and low levels of caregiver anxiety, where a crying infant is attended to straight away, gives the little one a sense that it is safe to simply be him or herself, in process of self differentiation. The process of self differentiation (learning what one is and  is not responsible for) is in turn, the development of emotional intelligence.

 

Depression, anxiety, certain psychosomatic disorders, and obsessive compulsive disorders are associated with not being able to determine the boundary between oneself and others, as well as knowing that the mind of others cannot be completely known and is not one’s own, though an empathy with them is possible. In these conditions, ambiguity is not tolerated and conclusions about things is fitted, far too quickly, into a familiar account of things, even though a non-differentiated state is an ambiguous one. The familiar account of things can be the stories of family, culture, and personal experience that has become ingrained, and offers some sense of security.  For example, the person who says, “I can’t have a normal relationship because I am always rejected,” stymies themselves right from the word go by the story they have. “I will be rejected because I am always rejected.”  But, really, maybe it isn’t so.

 

When we develop a capacity to look at our circumstances by gathering and discriminating and weighing up other explanations for what we have hitherto assumed to be true, we can begin to untangle assumptions about our world and work out where we individually stand on matters concerning ourselves. Untangling our accounts of things as we know them, is part of the process of increasing emotional intelligence and lowering our propensity for depressive illness. Such a process also loosens us from our past.

 

Learning what one is and is not is the basis of discovering our uniqueness and celebrating it. Learning what one is and is not is a work that continues throughout life. Mothers and sons and daughters, of whatever age can engage in developing this knowledge, for what used to be a condition of the past doesn’t need to continue to be a condition of the present. Nothing is set in stone.  This is where therapy becomes very useful indeed. I am, and you are and together we can find new ways of feeling, of living.

 

Sleep and Melatonin by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD

 

January 2025

We are governed by circadian rhythms, which are 24 hour cycles, part of our body’s internal clock. During sleep, the cells in our body undergo healing and replication and our mind works through the experiences and memories of our lives in dreams. Our psyche needs the stimulation of being awake, and being asleep. We need, integrally, a consistent routine for our good health. Our circadian rhythm causes us to sleep and, in the morning, as exposure to light increases, melatonin production stops and body temperature rises, promoting wakefulness. Rhythm is the key. Light and dark, wakefulness and sleep, in harmony and balance giving rise to good bodily and psychological health.

 

Sleep is most likely to be refreshing and restorative when circadian rhythms, the natural cycle of daylight and darkness, and sleep patterns align. Regularity of meal times, exercise, social interaction, and sleep times as well as exposure to sunlight and darkness help maintain our natural circadian rhythms. Sometimes, though, our circadian rhythms are thrown out of kilter: shift work, travel across time zones, social or study habits that lead to irregular bedtimes, illness, stress, bright lights, too much alcohol and other recreational drugs, all contribute to this.

 

Problems with sleep can give rise to insomnia, performance issues (memory problems, difficulty focusing and difficulty performing high precision tasks, emotional and social difficulties, accidents and errors, health problems (obesity, diabetes, heart attacks, high blood pressure, and cancer), and symptoms of low energy and grogginess.

 

A regular schedule for sleep, meals, exercise, exposure to a moderate amount of sunlight  and not too much screen time, etc, helps good sleep. If you are having problems getting to sleep, clinical hypnotherapy (which I do) combined with light therapy (controlled exposure to light, eg going outside in the morning after dawn for an hour or so and then at least 10 to 30 minutes in the afternoon of sunlight is beneficial) and, maybe, melatonin supplements and, if your doctor recommends it, medication. The latter can pose risks and have undesirable side effects.

 

So, melatonin. I’ve been thinking a lot about why melatonin was given to me in ICU when I was seriously ill a few months ago when sleep wasn’t a problem. Melatonin, as we know, is a hormone produced by the pineal gland in the body in response to darkness and regulates day-night/waking-sleeping cycles by chemically causing drowsiness and lowering the body temperature. Melatonin is also implicated in the regulation of mood, learning and memory, immune activity, dreaming, fertility and reproduction. Light decreases melatonin production creating wakefulness, darkness increases melatonin inducing sleep. Sometimes some people do not produce enough melatonin and have insomnia. This is usually and usefully treated with melatonin tablets, drops, patches or gummies. So, why was it given to me in hospital – until I questioned its use and suggested that it really wasn’t necessary for me to take it?

 

I’ve since discovered that it is quite often given to patients during acute illness within a particular age group as it has been discovered that such illness sometimes interrupts the person’s normal circadian rhythm and creates delirium.  Well, this might be true, but to give melatonin to everyone on the basis that sometimes the wakefulness/sleep cycle is interrupted seems a bit of an overkill. At no time was I suffering delirium. Blanket prescriptions cannot include all variables.

 

I often hear from clients that they have been prescribed melatonin and they’ve been using the stuff for years, without much useful result. This supplement is time-limited. The supplement is designed to reset the circadian cycle not to replace it. As a short-term solution to insomnia, it’s useful, but it loses its effectiveness and can contribute to the body not restoring its own circadian rhythm (which is the whole point of taking it in the first place).

 

Melatonin is not innocuous and shouldn’t be used if you operate heavy machinery, nor

taken with alcohol or other sleeping pills as the combined effects may cause breathing problems. Melatonin supplements interact with many medications, including birth control pills, blood pressure medicine, antiseizure medicine, medicine to weaken the immune system, and blood thinners. People who take any of these medicines should speak to their doctor before trying melatonin supplements.

 

 

 

 

 

Knowing and Realizing We Know by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD

 

December 2024

 

It’s interesting that often we know a whole lot more than we realize we know something. Herein lies an important key to effective counselling. Very often the client comes for their first session and effectively tells you – without realizing it – what is missing from their lives and also how they might incorporate that knowledge into everyday experiences. The art of therapy then is to bring to awareness that unawareness. It’s a very subtle thing, and needs to be approached without fanfare. Awareness cannot be forced.

 

A clinical supervisor of mine once described this as like stealing a client’s watch and then returning it to them, gently. We therapists must be very attentive; listen very closely to everything a client says and does. We need to bring awareness in as though this knowledge has arisen from the client own source of knowings (which it has). Their knowledge base is their resource, and in sharing with us, ours as well. Therapy, after all, is a shared conversation, and a very creative one.

 

I have just done a hypnosis with a client of mine. To prepare for this, as I always do, I listened and talked with him about the discoveries and insights he has had during the week. During this first half hour (my sessions are 60 minutes), I discovered not only the main topics that have preoccupied him, but also key elements and strategies for the next half hour, that of the hypnosis itself. I listened, effectively, for the shape and design of his unconscious processes, aiming to bring to consciousness and realization that which is implicit in what he has said.

 

Hypnotherapy is a playful way of approaching the process of realization. The therapist casts aside traditional linguistic order to play with ideas, words and images. The purpose is to stimulate client resources, implicit in the way that person approaches the world. Again, this requires very close attentive listening to them.

 

One exercise, I remember from studying clinical hypnotherapy umpteen years ago in Sydney, was to ask the client to identify their personality and also list all the animals they particularly loved and then to incorporate reference to those animals in the hypnosis session. My client said, they liked meercats. They also said they were a scaredy cat. I played with her words, saying things like “no mere cat, not scared, but a lion.”  The words were already there, as was the intent and direction for therapy.

 

Now, had I said these things directly, the client would well have brushed the words off, instead re-emphasizing her unhappy state of mind. My playful approach may well have been received quite differently, loosening resistance and allowing humour to introduce a deeper understanding and, effectively, releasing the lion within. Lions, after all, are not mere scaredy cats, and are not to be messed with.

 

The shift from unconscious knowing to realization is the start of all knowledge, including the physical. A dancer, or gymnast, already uses their body like everybody else, but have brought particular skills to certain sets of movements. One could say, that skills are realized body knowledge.

 

It’s when knowledge remains unconscious, unrealized, that problems arise. Again, thinking about body knowledge, sometimes pain sets in and learning how to move differently through something like Feldenkreis can release the pain – such is the purpose of realized movement.

 

Psychological pain is similarly created when we keep on doing the things that creates our pain, forgetting our own knowledge that there are other ways of being and feeling. It’s then that the subtle work of psychotherapy comes to its own. Sometimes, doing more than talking about it really helps too. I remember a client years ago who was clinically depressed. I discovered that what she used to do when feeling low was go out dancing. I encouraged her to turn on the radio once a day and just let her body dance. She did, and the next time I saw her, she glowed. Everything changed for her as she realized her inner resources for a good life.

 

 

 

Life Chooses Life by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD

 

November 2024

 See also http://www.nimbingoodtimes.com/archive/pages2024/nov/NGT-1124-24-29.pdf

I’m told that in Mexico when you get to your 70s you are said to have reached the 7^th floor. Very bizarrely, I was recently on the 7^th floor of my third hospital where all the geriatrics were put. I’ve been rather seriously ill with a blood sepsis and near organ failure and the 7^th floor was meant to be a rehabilitation ward, but I was in a room with a woman with dementia and some of the nurses seemed to think I too had dementia (very frustrating!). One asked, after my last shower there where I’d washed my hair in preparation for going home, if I knew how to comb it.  Yes, yes, yes, I said - irritated out of my brain. I wasn’t there because I’d lost my marbles, I was there just because I needed physiotherapy to walk again, without assistance.

I walked out of there determined to get back into the swing of life and work as quickly as possible, and I’m getting there. I’ve resumed seeing clients online. Please email me on dr_mccardell@yahoo.com for further information.

 One of the medical doctors asked me at the second of the hospitals if, in the case of near death, would I want to be resuscitated. I had to think; to weigh up questions of the meaning of life; to consider what matters most to me as a living person. This is, after all, an existential question that we all must face sooner or later. I replied, after some thought, “Life chooses life.” And so it is. I guess that if I was closer to death, I may have chosen death, but I have an abundance of life, more to live, to give, to celebrate.

 Being a patient in hospital is a strange disjointed thing, a Dali-esque  thing. You are treated as both object and subject, at once. There I was using a bed pan and – at the same time – being measured up for a pressure sore prevention cushion by an occupational therapist. There I was wrapped only in a towel sitting in a wheelchair after a shower and wheeled out into the hallway filled with medical students and no-one noticing anything. Exposed, and yet, not. There I was trying to engage a young doctor in conversation (because befriending people is what I do, and doing so changes the dynamic rather wonderfully between us) while she painfully inserted a cannula into a vein on my wrist. The illness, itself, was felt subjectively, but objectified at the same time: a timely reminder that, as a dear mentor puts it, we are not our bodies. Bodies change, age, decay, but our spirit lives on, just as buoyantly as ever. And we can learn to watch all this happening. For life chooses life, even as if it feels like an energy beyond our selves (which it is).

 Learning the art of mindfulness, of witnessing without interpreting according to our problem stories (our neuroses), is the art that I try to encourage in my clients and which I tried to practice in the near month of illness and hospital experiences. I can’t say that I succeeded all the time. My tendencies towards impatience flared up pretty often, but – even these – I attempted to witness without excuses. All this isn’t easy, but I believe, it’s worth it for the sake of equanimity, as well as fairness towards other people.

 

The practice of lucid dreaming is a helpful start to the art of mindful witnessing. We don’t have to get caught up in our habitual ways of responding, but can choose how to resolve our issues. The dreamscapes of our mind are not predetermined and we can wake from them consciously. I think consciousness is life’s purpose, that, and love/compassion.

 

One of my greatest regrets is that I was unable to contact all my clients while hospitalized because my new phone had lost a number of contacts. To these people, I’m deeply sorry. I hope that those who were affected have found another therapist, or perhaps would like to contact me again. I do not like leaving people unsupported.