Poustinia - finding my still small centre

'A poustinia (Russian: пустынь) is a small sparsely furnished cabin or room where one goes to pray and fast alone in the presence of God. The word poustinia has its origin in the Russian word for desert (пустыня).'

I have not posted on here for some weeks, mainly because I am in the process of building in more formal work to my routines. It is challenging for a number of reasons. Firstly, it has, and is, taking me time to absorb and accept, that in order to maintain my current levels of emotional stability I need space and time to practice my emotion management skills. Secondly, my previous patterns of extreme working to the point of emotional, mental and physical exhaustion is not sustainable, or advisable if I am to maintain emotional stability. Thirdly, I am learning that I need to actively build a life which gives me emotional space, which in turn means that I need to accept that I cannot sustain full time or even half time hours, compared to my previous working patterns.

One of the roles I have taken on is as an Expert by Experience in three separate roles within the local NHS Trust. As these opportunities have developed I have become a service user consultant to my DBT team. I am revisiting DBT skills from further down the road of recovery and recognising that one aspect of my emotional management which has 'slipped' is my use of formal Mindfulness exercises. Don't get me wrong I keep myself focused and alert to the here and now by using the how and what of DBT mindful practise, but I have not managed to make sitting down and focusing on a mindful exercise part of my daily routine. Having been reminded of this I have tried to build it into the routines at the start of my day.

Thinking about this more formal mindful practise I am reminded of the idea of Poustinia which I was first introduced to when on retreat at the Northumbria Community approximately twenty years ago. At the time I was looking for a way to manage my stormy thought and emotional life. Poustinia as stated above finds its roots in the Russian word for 'desert'. As with the real desert environment, the practice of poustinia can either result in exposure and vulnerability, or if I am properly prepared and equipped, it can be a place to find clarity and space to focus away from the hurly burly of day to day life. Where it is practised as a spiritual discipline there are strict rules about preparing to go to Poustinia and when people are ready for those moments of isolation. Just as there are times when isolation is not helpful to me, there will be times when too much time contemplating risks tumbling into introspection and rumination which can keep damaging emotions ignited and stoked.

For me, Poustinia does not have to be a purpose built cabin in the wilderness, as in Russian Orthodox religion, but has become the idea that I have made a space in which to contemplate and nurture my relationship with God, in this context I also notice my emotional state and prepare myself for the best possible start to my day. At home it is a snuggle chair, prior to settling down I avoid switching on any of my electronics. This routine along with the routine practice of mindful exercises means that my day is not a crashing launch into activity and crowded thoughts, but is a calm assessment of how I am doing. Hopefully, it makes me less vulnerable to emotional instability. Where it coincides with mindful practice is the idea that I can recreate this place of poustinia, internally, at any point in my day. If the events of the day around me are at risk of creating instability in my thinking or emotions, I can use mindful breathing to focus whilst at the same time anchoring my experience in my wider belief in God and the purpose and meaning that brings to my life.

The Feeling is on the tip of my Tongue

I've been revisiting the DBT Skills in a more structured way recently. It has brought unexpected challenges to my day to day practice. It has been some time since I have found myself noticing and, therefore recognising the distinction between primary and secondary emotions. Coming back to DBT skills after a time when I had become accustomed to a narrow range of skills which suited me and with which I had become comfortable, has reminded me that continuing to manage my emotions effectively starts with being able to notice and name the feelings I may be grappling with.

One day I found myself feeling unutterably irritable, angry even at the world in general, other people, but (an echo from the past) most of all at myself. It was an uncomfortable feeling as I have managed to achieve a reasonable level of equilibrium. However, I am embarking on a number of new projects which I find challenging.

In the past I would have been tempted to wallow in the discomfort, allowing it to grow into the impulse to self harm. The Poison Tree by William Blake, has always summed up the dangers of nurturing bitterness, anger and hatred, particularly when it is turned inward. 'I was angry with my friend, I told my wrath, my wrath did end, I was angry with my foe, I told it not, my wrath did grow...'

As someone who is emotionally sensitive, I find it easier to forgive others than to forgive myself. Self directed anger needs a range of skills to manage, particularly so it does not become a spur to self harm. Naming it is vital. Spiky was how I would describe my general sense of how I was feeling, but it took me a long time to name 'anger' as the surface emotion. The problem then became, angry at what?

Rather than sit and ruminate, nurturing and feeding the destructive emotion, I decided to 'stomp' it out. So, along with my dog, I embarked on a two hour brisk walk. One hour in, the feeling of anger moved and changed into another feeling. I realised then that I was feeling sad, I was missing some key relationships from my time in Mental Health Services. I have moved forward to a point where I can use my skills, I have learned to self reflect. However, there will be times when I need coaching and encouragement. I am moving into a phase where that needs to be something I do for myself, having previously relied on my Care Co-ordinator and DBT Therapist to guide my reflections.

It is good to reflect that the storm of irritability lasted around three hours from when I first felt angry to resolving the feeling into sadness and allowing myself to feel sad about good relationships that have past. It is ok, it is understandable. In the past most of my emotional life was dominated either by a feeling of numbness when I was engulfed in an amorphous cloud of numerous emotions, or outright irritability and anger at myself which periodically exploded against those closest to me, but primarily at myself.

'Telling' my feelings allows me to look the challenger in the face. I was able to move forward when I acknowledged that I was angry, used opposite action to deal with that feeling until the main emotion, sadness was ready to be named.

I am learning that when I can't immediately tell you what I am really feeling, I know it is just on the tip of my tongue... I am learning to make space and give myself time until I am ready to tell my feelings and stop them from becoming an all devouring monster.