Mother’s Healing Retreats: The Koby Mandell Foundation Groundbreaking Methodology I work for the Koby Mandell Foundation, which has its offices in Jerusalem, Israel, as Director of Women’s Programs. This is a young foundation that began officially about a year ago, although in effect, its activities began even a few months before. This foundation is the result of a kind of grass roots organization that arose from the shock, chaos and disintegration caused by violent death. Sherri and Seth Mandell, Americans who had come to live in Israel several years earlier, could not find their fourteen-year-old son. He didn’t come home from school, nor did he appear during the evening or night. Search parties were sent out looking for him and his friend who had disappeared with him. The next afternoon two bodies were found bludgeoned to death. The boys had been stoned to death by Palestinian terrorists. They were so badly battered that DNA had to be taken to identify the boys. It turned out that the boys had played hooky from school to hike in the Wadi about a quarter of a mile from their homes. The terrorists followed them and, seeing that they were alone, cruelly attacked them. Sherri and Seth suffered a terrible loss under the most brutal and abhorrent circumstances. Even the word tragedy does not effectively describe the experience. After a while, when the shock began somewhat to abate, they decided that they wanted something positive to come out of their catastrophe. They wanted to perpetuate their son’s name by creating and supporting programs that encourage others to build meaningful, healthy and even inspired lives out of personal trauma and tragedy. They wanted to help others who had suffered similar cataclysmic events. The foundation initially started with informal meetings between Sherri and Seth and their close friends who came to give support and help them somewhat through the mourning process. Gradually, the ideas and framework were developed and about a year after the murders a summer camp was held for children whose family suffered the loss of a child or parent. There was also a camp session for injured children. The camp was a great success. Children felt they could talk freely with other children who had suffered similar losses. They could show their scars, both physical and emotional, without shame. They could feel normal and not different from everybody else. Several support programs were initiated following the camp. There is a Friend’s Program of support groups for teenagers whose friends were murdered in terrorist attacks. The Camp Program includes the summer camp, and three additional follow up three-day camp sessions during school holidays, as well as group activities and personal contact with the children throughout the year. There is a Women’s Program, a Family Program and a Program of Encounters for Young Adults. I would like to elaborate on the Women’s Programs, which I direct, and in which I am very much involved, both professionally and emotionally. The women’s activities are divided into two groups; widows and mothers. We find that their needs are different and so we can best help them by offering them different groups. Each month we conduct a women’s healing retreat, either for widows or for bereaved mothers, from a different geographical location. The reason we try to have the women from the same geographical area is that after the retreat we set up support groups for the women who attended the retreat. The major goal of the women's retreat is to inculcate in the women the belief that in spite of their tragedy that can still live a meaningful life. We try to achieve this in three ways: through nurturing, through containment and through an innovative approach to the relationship of therapist and client. We strive to nurture the women in a safe, warm, protective environment that soothes and heals some of their suffering. In two days of workshops and informal gatherings, the women share their pain, their joy, and their hopes. Each aspect of the retreat is designed to give the women a sense of being taken care of. They are picked up, often at their homes, and driven to the retreat setting. The women are put up in a five star hotel. Baskets filled with sweets and toiletries are put in the women’s rooms. . And here we have a very different approach to therapy. The formal boundaries that we therapists establish when we see clients do not fit this setting. We create an environment that is “motherly” in intention—that nurtures the women and provides a matrix that gives a sense of safety and security. We listen, we do not reflect or interpret, and we join the women where they are. The staff creates an ambience of tenderness and caring that cradles these women both physically and psychologically thus providing a holding environment for them in their profound grief. We create a network like a cuddling hammock to hold them. It is a kind of containment; it’s like a gathering and holding together so that we are putting boundaries around them. Their inner world is chaotic for these women. The retreat helps make order in the chaos that the bereaved women are experiencing. The limits give a sense of security. Because they feel protected, safe, and even loved, women feel the possibility of growth and expansion. I will talk more about the relationship of the therapists and the women First I would like to tell you about the retreat program. We program formal therapy sessions interspersed with informal social settings. We hold discussion or support sessions; we use yoga, art therapy and dance therapy, and in the evening we schedule light programs. The first session that we hold after the welcoming ceremony is devoted to getting acquainted. The women want to know in which terrorist acts the women have lost their children. They need to hear each others stories. These women usually feel abnormal in the world because their experience separates them from people who have not suffered trauma and loss in terrorist acts. They are defined and they define themselves by their pguim, by the terrorist act. As the women begin to arrive at the retreat and we introduce ourselves the women give their names and relate in which terrorist act their children were murdered. It goes something like this. "Hello, my name is Hadassah and I'm from the bus explosion on the Carmel. I lost my daughter there. "This seems to be their identification tag. Their new identity is connected with the murder of their children and the terrorist act. So in the first session the women want to know more about each other through the telling and retelling of their story. This is extremely painful for the women. Theirs is an abysmal unending pain. Pain is a natural outcome of trauma and needs to be released. Trauma tends to diminish and disqualify. The painful memories are used as a testimony to what was held precious before and should be honored. This is accomplished by the retelling of the story in this first session of the retreat. It creates a catharsis but also maintains what is precious by the other group participants’ acknowledgement of their story. [Michael White] We put limits on their story telling allowing about five minutes for each story. There are only two oral sessions in the retreat: the session just discussed and the last session, which is a wrap up of the retreat. Through experience we have found that it is easier for the women to express themselves in non-verbal therapies. We find the use of metaphor to be very effective. For the last three retreats we have adopted a theme that runs throughout. This ties the activities together lending a consistency to the retreat and amplifying the therapeutic impact in a non-threatening way. At a widow's retreat in Tiberias, for example, we used the metaphor of the sea and boating. We took the women on a boat ride on the Kinneret. You are on a new journey to unknown shores. In the art therapy session boats were made by the women. One of the women put on a steering wheel, so that the she could control the boat In the dance therapy women moved to the sound and feel of the waves. Another example is the theme of trees."Man is a tree in the field." Each woman made her own tree, later all the trees were put together to make a forest. Trees have roots, have a mutual relationship with the environment; photosynthesis. At the end of the retreat each women was given a Yakinton Bulb in a glass bowl with tuff. The women were told to take care of and nurture the bulb, placing it in the light and providing water. We also have a grief massage therapist who gives each woman a half hour massage. Massage is a key component of the retreat. As I mentioned before many of the women arrive at the retreat feeling very tense.The masseuse, a woman who specialises in bereavement therapy, works on areas of the body that create relaxation. She starts with the extremeties, hand and feet, holding the women and making them feel safe. Then she is able work on the other parts of the body. This nurturing and caring for the body makes the women feel safe and able to venture out into the world. Women who are having a particularly difficult time often receive two massages and then are able to participate in the group more successfully. The therapists participate together with the women in all these activities except for the massage. In the yoga and dance therapy sessions there is touching, leaning on, stroking etc. This physical contact releases some of the tension in both therapists and women and connects them making the latter close to each other and to the staff. No less important are the informal encounters that occur at meals, between sessions, late in the evening, and during fun activities such as boating, hiking, archeological digs. It is at these times that significant therapeutic venue comes to the fore. The informal social interaction among the women and between the staff and the women provides a stimulus for intimacy. There is a large ratio of staff to women, and it is the responsibility of the staff to be with the women as much as possible. At meals the staff, for example, does not sit together, but rather, spreads themselves out among the women. Having a meal with another person can create a sense of intimacy. The therapist, client relationship is changed because the therapists join the women; the hierarchy is interrupted. In joining the mothers in the more normal aspects of their lives, we affirm the essence of life. We do this while eating, socializing, and participating in fun activities. The therapists, together with the women, weave a fabric of normal and abnormal experiences. The women, by being together and by being with the therapists in a social setting, can feel a sense of normalcy, and in a way their being a part of the normal social world is affirmed. In a paradoxical way, this interface of extremes creates a healing milieu, providing a paradigm for life. The therapists are available for the women so that they can help share and carry the pain. In the regular world, most people close off to the women’s pain don’t want to be disturbed by it or can’t be, but here, the women’s grief is a normal part of life that is part of the normal dialogue. The language and discourse of the retreat allow women to express the inexpressible in the context of regular conversation as well as in the therapeutic groups. What also distinguishes the retreat from other therapeutic activities is the fact that the clients and therapist enjoy recreational activities together that are fun and sometimes adventuress. Winnicot has written that “Psychotherapy takes place in the overlap ot two areas of playing, that of the patient and that of the therapist. Psychotherapy has to do with two people playing together. The corollary of this is that where playing is not possible then the work done by the therapist is directed towards bringing the patient from a state of not being able to play into a state of being able to play. [from ”Playing: Its Theoretical Status in the Clinical Situation,”1971]” So at the retreat the staff and the women at times play together. These joint pleasurable activities are often metaphors that can help make order out of chaos. In a way they are enactments that stress coping capabilities. In a nonverbal indirect way the women learn how to draw strength from themselves, how to get direction and how to overcome difficulties though they may be terrifying and painful. In a way, it’s like a restoring of the self : renewed dignity and worth as a person that was knocked down by the murder of the child. Michael White, the narrative family therapist calls re-authoring one’s life. We afford them the possibility of a creating a new narrative. Perhaps some of the most powerful therapeutic moments at the retreat are created through the use of metaphor... A case in point is that of Nitza. Nitza is a woman in her fifties, who immigrated to Israel from Tunisia as a child. She has jet-black hair and a dark complexion with high cheekbones. She's a handsome woman who must have been a beauty as a young woman. She wore no make up and was dressed very simply. The perpetual frown on her forehead told her story. She was the most recent bereaved mother in the group. We usually do not accept mothers for the retreats until six months after they have suffered the death of their child. However, Nitza was an exception. Her son was murdered while fixing a telephone line four months earlier. The security guard accompanying him went off to buy speakers for his car. A fifteen- year old boy took advantage of this breech of security and shot him dead. Nitza cried through most of the first day. In the late afternoon, those women who chose to, along with some of the staff, went out on the Jordan River in kayaks. Nitza kept close to my side, making sure to get in the same kayak with me. We were four in the kayak. I sat up front, Nitza right behind me, then Anat and Leah at the back - all three bereaved mothers. I rowed. I have never in my life been in a kayak and certainly have never rowed. But there I was, leading these mothers on a journey. I rarely rowed straight. I kept bumping into the banks (the Jordan is narrow), getting tangled in bushes, pushing off again into the center of the river. There was an atmosphere of fun, and it was clear that the women felt safe with me. Leah and Anat, the women in the back, helped me point the kayak in the right direction by telling me how to row. Nitza, in the middle, was mostly silent. What a terrific metaphor for life! One tries to go forward but if there are unexpected difficulties, if one gets stuck, if one gets entangled one can find solutions and continue on. One can ask for help, as I asked Leah and Anat to help me. (It is interesting to note that as the two-day retreat continued, it became clear that Leah and Anat are woman with strong coping capabilities. Nitza certainly knew where to sit and be protected: between two strong women and the group leader.) It is also clear that the women were seeking help and guidance, and that they needed someone to give them support and direction. It was a lot of fun. We enjoyed our adventure together and the shared experience brought us closer. It seems to me that this metaphor is worth a thousand words . I am directly involved in the deaths of these women's children because I see and hear about in all the media and mourn along with the affected families and my fellow countrymen. I and my dear ones are the next potential victims. So there is an element of intimacy, a feeling of shared fate that does not permit bereavement to be private. Here we all mourn together. We share anxiety and pain. I believe that there is a therapeutic element for the staff in working with these bereaved women. It helps us to work through the tragedies that we frequently encounter here. Some of the staff has lost friends in terrorist attacks. When there is a terrorist act and we get the news reportage, I know that I will be meeting with the involved families in a few months time. When I do meet them and I tend to them, care for them, speak with them, touch them, try to alleviate their pain, I feel that I am doing something positive in a terrible situation. I am creating some positive act in a morass of fear and violence. I am getting some control in a chaotic world. It is quite clear to me that the physical contact with the women is as much a need for the staff as it is for the women. The staff has a need to mother them through physical contact. So I think there is something here in the omnipotent good mother that satisfies the needs of the staff and those of the bereaved women. I feel love and affection for these troubled women. They somehow bring out the best in me. Their pain and suffering seems to be a catalyst for my resources of giving warmth and understanding, of being able to contain their wretched feelings, of offering myself as a solid rock to be leant on. One of the staff told the women that they give us (the staff) strength. They give us strength by persisting to live and seek meaning from life. They have not given up on living. The women could not believe that they could give us strength. They at times feel so helpless and wiped out. They feel that those who have not lost their children to terrorism do not want to hear their story, or do not know how to handle the story they have heard. The women sometimes feel like outcasts who have been marked by pain and suffering, feelings that are frightening for other people to deal with. They feel that they are a burden. These women could not conceive of themselves as a resource for fortitude. They were surprised and touched to hear this. Perhaps it is an entwinement of needs that provides the matrix for the healing retreats. The bereaved women are mothers or widows are in need of nurturing, and we, the staff, are in need of giving. What I have been describing gives the staff a feeling of competency as therapists and provides a sense of personal and professional fulfillment. Helping these women helps us work out our own fears and puts us in touch with our own grief and horror. This is not an easy task. We need to contain the emotions of the women and at the same time cope with my own very similar emotions. . I know that the women will come to this retreat feeling anxious and unsettled. They carry a tremendous aching burden and bring it with them to the retreat. They are not acquainted with the staff or the other women. They are curious as to what they will experience. They are very much in need of meeting other women in their same circumstances. From my experiences with the retreats I know that these women will leave feeling very differently than on their arrival. For the most part they leave feeling loved, taken care of, relaxed and more able to deal with their bereavement and loss. At the retreat they have acquired a sense of belonging to a community. The sense of loneliness and alienation that they feel in their everyday lives is ameliorated. They leave with new hope for the possibility of a meaningful life in spite of their pain. In order to anchor and deepen these positive feelings we continue with follow up ongoing support groups that continue to afford these women a framework in which they experience the possibility of personal growth and expansion. RuthAnne Sadeh, MSW Director, Mother’s Healing Retreats