FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
For more information, please contact Laura Brownstone, LCSW, at 773-983-0237.
(January 30, 2007)
A new psycho-educational, grief support group will start March 22 and will run until May 3 in the Rogers Park area. The support group will be sponsored by Brownstone Therapeutics..
“Grief feels all consuming, overwhelming and crazy making. You could be sitting on a crowded bus and feel an ocean of tears well up in your eyes or you could be in a supermarket and feel great longing for the one you lost. These are both normal reactions to grief. Grief is a whole body response to a loss which feels devastating to the soul and spirit,” said Laura Brownstone, LCSW.
As an experienced facilitator, Laura Brownstone, LCSW, plans to lead a psycho-educational grief support group for those who have suffered past and recent losses. She would like to invite those who are ready to let some of their grief be expressed and witnessed in a safe space. She encourages use of creativity and members’ own imaginations to lead them to further healing. Ms.Brownstone also uses some didactic learning as well as provides a focus on the mind, body and spirit.
By their friends and family, people are told to get “over it and to stop wallowing.” This may not be helpful advice. Embedded grief over time does affect the whole person. “In doing necessary grief work, people can feel less crazy, more grounded in the present and better able to imagine their future,” added Laura Brownstone, LCSW.
When: Thursday, March 22- May 3 from 6-7:30 p.m.
Where: East Rogers Park, 1227 West Jarvis, Chicago, by the lake.
Who: Anyone who wants support for their loss and feels capable of being in a new group. Cost: $35 per group.
Facilitated by Laura Brownstone, LCSW. Sponsored by Brownstone Therapeutics. Ms. Brownstone has at least seven years of experience working with grief and loss. If you wish to participate, please call, Laura Brownstone, LCSW, at 773-983-0237.
Brownstone Therapeutics is a therapeutic private practice which aims to encourage clients to connect with themselves and others through the creative arts. Brownstone Therapeutics offers individual and group therapy, supervision for students, corporate and organizational trainings, as well as oral history services.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Being Productive
I am being very productive.
Finishing drafts..finishing interviews...
Returning emails..Sending necessary emails
Answering questions for Ask Eve..
Please send more questions.
Working out for an hour today keeps me going.
Walking in the sun.... bliss...
Finishing drafts..finishing interviews...
Returning emails..Sending necessary emails
Answering questions for Ask Eve..
Please send more questions.
Working out for an hour today keeps me going.
Walking in the sun.... bliss...
Brownstone Therapeutics Services
Brownstone Therapeutics
You don’t have to be good. You don’t have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Wild Geese, Mary Oliver
Compassionate Care for the Creative Soul
Eve Brownstone, MA, LCPC
Seventeen years experience
Now Offers:
Individual Therapy
Group Psychotherapy
Trainings
Psychodrama/Action Method Techniques
Art Therapy
Giving Birth to Your Truth Workshops
Supervision/Consultation
Oral History Services
For more information call (773) 859-1276
Or visit http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/
You don’t have to be good. You don’t have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Wild Geese, Mary Oliver
Compassionate Care for the Creative Soul
Eve Brownstone, MA, LCPC
Seventeen years experience
Now Offers:
Individual Therapy
Group Psychotherapy
Trainings
Psychodrama/Action Method Techniques
Art Therapy
Giving Birth to Your Truth Workshops
Supervision/Consultation
Oral History Services
For more information call (773) 859-1276
Or visit http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Ask Eve
Tonight we are launching an advice coulumn, Ask Eve. Please right in your questions about relationships. I will do my best to think about it and give you an answer hopefully filled with insight and a little humor thrown in.
This is just fun entertainment and educational, but not therapy. I don't know all the answers, but I know a little bit after being in the therapeutic business for close to two decades. Give it a try. If you want therapy you can call me at 773-859-1276 to schedule an appointment. Post your questions in the comment section of this post Ask Eve. Have Fun. Best, Eve
This is just fun entertainment and educational, but not therapy. I don't know all the answers, but I know a little bit after being in the therapeutic business for close to two decades. Give it a try. If you want therapy you can call me at 773-859-1276 to schedule an appointment. Post your questions in the comment section of this post Ask Eve. Have Fun. Best, Eve
A Journey
A Journey from Anshe Emet to Garfield Park Field House
At Anshe Emet, a girl spoke with her voice and became a woman within her
community and within her family.
She spoke of prayer, service, sacrifice, ancestors and of miracles sixty years ago. She moved the crowd with her hope for the future.
Cousins, aunts, uncles, mom, dad, brother and sister embraced and celebrated her, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to bask in sweet vicarious love for a few more moments, but I was called to Garfield Park, to a wedding reception.
The taxi took me to the Southside. I needed to go to Garfield and Cottage Grove. The CTA said that is where I would find the Garfield Park Field House. The taxi parted me with my thirty dollars and left me in an unknown land. (At the Corner of Garfield and Cottage Grove) I asked rugby players, "Where is Garfield Park Field House?” “I don’t know.” was their response. I walked all over a park, which became known to me as Washington Park. Fear began to grip me. I called my sister and my brother-law for help. They were at the wedding reception. They didn’t answer their cell-phones. I started to cry. I prayed to G-d for help. “Please help me G-d.” I looked for an answer. In the mean time, I asked a father and son walking on the street, "How can I get to Garfield Park?" The father directed me to the Garfield bus. I thought yes, maybe I would find my way. The bus driver let me off at a building that was locked up. Panic gripped me again, “Oh shit!”
Good fortune smiled upon or an angel sent some love my way in front of that locked up building. Another father and young son also parked in front. I told them of my challenge and being lost. They acted with care and brought me safely to the Red-line. Standing on the Red-line platform, I thanked G-d for my well-being and answering me. I never made it to Garfield Park Field House today, but I went on a journey I was supposed to experience. I found my own voice to speak up and ask for help until I got it. Everything happens for a reason.
At Anshe Emet, a girl spoke with her voice and became a woman within her
community and within her family.
She spoke of prayer, service, sacrifice, ancestors and of miracles sixty years ago. She moved the crowd with her hope for the future.
Cousins, aunts, uncles, mom, dad, brother and sister embraced and celebrated her, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to bask in sweet vicarious love for a few more moments, but I was called to Garfield Park, to a wedding reception.
The taxi took me to the Southside. I needed to go to Garfield and Cottage Grove. The CTA said that is where I would find the Garfield Park Field House. The taxi parted me with my thirty dollars and left me in an unknown land. (At the Corner of Garfield and Cottage Grove) I asked rugby players, "Where is Garfield Park Field House?” “I don’t know.” was their response. I walked all over a park, which became known to me as Washington Park. Fear began to grip me. I called my sister and my brother-law for help. They were at the wedding reception. They didn’t answer their cell-phones. I started to cry. I prayed to G-d for help. “Please help me G-d.” I looked for an answer. In the mean time, I asked a father and son walking on the street, "How can I get to Garfield Park?" The father directed me to the Garfield bus. I thought yes, maybe I would find my way. The bus driver let me off at a building that was locked up. Panic gripped me again, “Oh shit!”
Good fortune smiled upon or an angel sent some love my way in front of that locked up building. Another father and young son also parked in front. I told them of my challenge and being lost. They acted with care and brought me safely to the Red-line. Standing on the Red-line platform, I thanked G-d for my well-being and answering me. I never made it to Garfield Park Field House today, but I went on a journey I was supposed to experience. I found my own voice to speak up and ask for help until I got it. Everything happens for a reason.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Ask the Shrink
Brownstone Therapeutics Community Outreach
Ask The Shrink?
Starts February 8
Thursdays 7pm-9pm
at Café Ennui, 6981 N Sheridan
Meet with Eve Brownstone a licensed therapist with seventeen years experience working with clients from eighteen months to ninety-five years old. Grab a cup of warm cider and pull up a chair for a one to one therapeutic session with this shrink. We can chat or make art together. $1 a minute.
These brief sessions at Café Ennui are meant to be therapeutic and not therapy. Participants are responsible for their own experience. Private therapy follow-up sessions with Eve Brownstone are available.
Call 773-859-1276 for more information or email brownstonetherapeutics@gmail.com or visit http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/.
Ask The Shrink?
Starts February 8
Thursdays 7pm-9pm
at Café Ennui, 6981 N Sheridan
Meet with Eve Brownstone a licensed therapist with seventeen years experience working with clients from eighteen months to ninety-five years old. Grab a cup of warm cider and pull up a chair for a one to one therapeutic session with this shrink. We can chat or make art together. $1 a minute.
These brief sessions at Café Ennui are meant to be therapeutic and not therapy. Participants are responsible for their own experience. Private therapy follow-up sessions with Eve Brownstone are available.
Call 773-859-1276 for more information or email brownstonetherapeutics@gmail.com or visit http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/.
An Open Art Studio
Brownstone Therapeutics presents
An Open Art Studio
Starting Monday, February 19
7pm- 9pm
At 1227 W. Jarvis in Rogers Park
$10 at the door
Space is limited to six
Come make art with me, Expressive Arts Therapist, Eve Brownstone.
This is a fun laid back experience. No experience with art required.
Just a desire to create something is important. You might even learn something new about yourself. I look forward to making art with you.
I have all the supplies and space. Call me at 773-859-1276 with any question. Or email me at brownstonetherapeutics@gmail.com or visit me at http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/.
An Open Art Studio
Starting Monday, February 19
7pm- 9pm
At 1227 W. Jarvis in Rogers Park
$10 at the door
Space is limited to six
Come make art with me, Expressive Arts Therapist, Eve Brownstone.
This is a fun laid back experience. No experience with art required.
Just a desire to create something is important. You might even learn something new about yourself. I look forward to making art with you.
I have all the supplies and space. Call me at 773-859-1276 with any question. Or email me at brownstonetherapeutics@gmail.com or visit me at http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Conversation
I just had a conversation that surprised me.
I spoke with an orthodox rabbi for the past 2 1/2 hours.
We are both jewish, yes.
He has a white beard and I kept listening.
At times I was moved to tears of joy.
He said he and I have alot in common.
We are both searchers. He said.
Questioning, exploring, thinking, trusting our higher-power will show us the next step.
He said it was a burden and a strength.
It can lead to wisdom and being alone.
He said that he was alone but not lonely. That is how I feel these days.
I spoke with an orthodox rabbi for the past 2 1/2 hours.
We are both jewish, yes.
He has a white beard and I kept listening.
At times I was moved to tears of joy.
He said he and I have alot in common.
We are both searchers. He said.
Questioning, exploring, thinking, trusting our higher-power will show us the next step.
He said it was a burden and a strength.
It can lead to wisdom and being alone.
He said that he was alone but not lonely. That is how I feel these days.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Giving Birth to Your Truth
What is Giving Birth to Your Truth?
It starts with me being a twin. You see I am an identical twin sister. For most of my life I thought the word “twin” was written on my forehead. In high school, my sister Laura and I were known as the “twins”. I am not complaining. I liked the celebrity-like treatment. My twin sister Laura felt like a freak. After high school, Laura and I went to different colleges in different states. This was Laura’s idea.
It was the best thing for us with twenty years hindsight. At eighteen, we went through an intense separation-individuation period. We yelled at the top of our lungs at each other in an effort to define our own identities. “I am not you!...I am me!!!” At the time, I had no idea who I was and I wasn’t sure I could make it without Laura, and I was damn pissed at her for abandoning me!
It was in graduate school at Lesley College in Cambridge Mass, that I began more concretely to define myself. It was a fun and intensively creative experience being a part of the Inter-modal Expressive Arts Therapies Program. I had great friends who didn’t see “twin” on my forehead but something beautiful in me. More importantly I saw something beautiful in me.
I wrote my Masters Thesis about being a twin and how it affects my relationship with me and others. I learned not only that was I afraid of being abandoned but that I was afraid of being consumed by the Other (Laura or a boyfriend). Being silenced. I have been silenced in relationships. I choose to speak up now.
Fourteen years ago, as I finished my thesis, I created a white spandex bag. I called it my “birthing bag”. Inside it, I would get an idea of what it was like to be born alone and not in relationship. Being a twin you come into this world “born in a relationship”. It started out as a performance piece. I would go into the bag and birth myself to music. I’ve been told my performance was beautiful and intense.
It was fun coming out of the bag, all sweaty and being greeted by others. I thought to myself, maybe other people could benefit from this rebirthing experience. Other people may learn how to feel more welcomed into the world in new empowering ways. So I created the Giving Birth to Your Truth Workshop. Participants may use the birthing bag or not. The imporant thing is to create your intention for change.
This safe group environment can be an incubator for making changes in your life. Through role-play, movement, music and group process participants rehearse roles that they have always wanted to play such as: a singer at Carnegie Hall, a mother or President of the United States. By rehearsing these roles, participants help themselves move towards creating the kind of lives they really want.
I don’t have all the answers. I know my twin and I get along much better now that we live own lives. I like to see myself as a Dullah, encouraging and steady. I am the one who wipes the brow and whispers “You can do this…watch you go.”
Saturday March 17, 2007 from 10am-3pm, I will be hosting another Giving Birth to Your Truth Workshop at 1227 W. Jarvis in Chicago.The fee is $150.00.
For registration and more information you can phone me at 773-859-1276 or send me an email to brownstonetherapeutics@gmail.com. Or visit me at http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/
It starts with me being a twin. You see I am an identical twin sister. For most of my life I thought the word “twin” was written on my forehead. In high school, my sister Laura and I were known as the “twins”. I am not complaining. I liked the celebrity-like treatment. My twin sister Laura felt like a freak. After high school, Laura and I went to different colleges in different states. This was Laura’s idea.
It was the best thing for us with twenty years hindsight. At eighteen, we went through an intense separation-individuation period. We yelled at the top of our lungs at each other in an effort to define our own identities. “I am not you!...I am me!!!” At the time, I had no idea who I was and I wasn’t sure I could make it without Laura, and I was damn pissed at her for abandoning me!
It was in graduate school at Lesley College in Cambridge Mass, that I began more concretely to define myself. It was a fun and intensively creative experience being a part of the Inter-modal Expressive Arts Therapies Program. I had great friends who didn’t see “twin” on my forehead but something beautiful in me. More importantly I saw something beautiful in me.
I wrote my Masters Thesis about being a twin and how it affects my relationship with me and others. I learned not only that was I afraid of being abandoned but that I was afraid of being consumed by the Other (Laura or a boyfriend). Being silenced. I have been silenced in relationships. I choose to speak up now.
Fourteen years ago, as I finished my thesis, I created a white spandex bag. I called it my “birthing bag”. Inside it, I would get an idea of what it was like to be born alone and not in relationship. Being a twin you come into this world “born in a relationship”. It started out as a performance piece. I would go into the bag and birth myself to music. I’ve been told my performance was beautiful and intense.
It was fun coming out of the bag, all sweaty and being greeted by others. I thought to myself, maybe other people could benefit from this rebirthing experience. Other people may learn how to feel more welcomed into the world in new empowering ways. So I created the Giving Birth to Your Truth Workshop. Participants may use the birthing bag or not. The imporant thing is to create your intention for change.
This safe group environment can be an incubator for making changes in your life. Through role-play, movement, music and group process participants rehearse roles that they have always wanted to play such as: a singer at Carnegie Hall, a mother or President of the United States. By rehearsing these roles, participants help themselves move towards creating the kind of lives they really want.
I don’t have all the answers. I know my twin and I get along much better now that we live own lives. I like to see myself as a Dullah, encouraging and steady. I am the one who wipes the brow and whispers “You can do this…watch you go.”
Saturday March 17, 2007 from 10am-3pm, I will be hosting another Giving Birth to Your Truth Workshop at 1227 W. Jarvis in Chicago.The fee is $150.00.
For registration and more information you can phone me at 773-859-1276 or send me an email to brownstonetherapeutics@gmail.com. Or visit me at http://brownstonetherapeutics.blogspot.com/
Emotional Energy-Power
A great thing happened to me this weekend. For the first time in along time I felt my body let go, perk up and dance inside. It felt like I was giving birth to myself. I spent the weekend at a wonderful empowerment workshop. It bypassed my mind and went straight for my body. Zing, tingle bang whoooo, baby! I didn't realize I was holding so much stored emotional baggage in my body. I did have alot of abandonment and bitterness. Whoo! It is good to let go of it. It makes sense every experience you have is stored in your body. You can feel stuck emotionally because your energy is stuck and not circulating in your body due to emotional overload. By the end of the weekend, I felt more powerful, I still do...
Monday, January 15, 2007
Hilda and Frank
Hilda and Frank
By Eve Brownstone
Under a bright blue sky at a summer picnic they met
on a blanket full of warmth and good conversation.
Hilda was a ballerina of 23 on a break from performing
Frank was 33 resting after organizing a union.
They spoke with friends and each other about:
the arts,
politics,
social justice.
She felt she knew him
And he couldn’t forget her.
The day they met she whispered to her best friend “This is the man I will marry.”
They would not be parted for very long
He would find her and they would move in together for six months
unheard of back in the 1930s.
They said their “I dos” down at City Hall in New York City.
Simple but meaningful to them both.
Two babies followed: Peter and Bill.
Day to day life:
PTA meetings,
marching for social justice,
labor union organizing,
raising children,
Ann pitched in,
being separated during the week,
spending time some precious time alone on weekends,
ballet and Israel,
Paul Robeson,
long talks with friends into the night over vodka and knishes,
standing up for what was right,
She was 53 and he was 63.
It came quickly from stroke.
World was shattered.
Life went on but differently:
sons were grown,
worked for Hudson’s Bay,
lived with sister Ann,
traveled all over the world.
Grand-children.
Great-grand-children.
Something was missing.
Frank was missing,
the love of Hilda’s life.
By Eve Brownstone
Under a bright blue sky at a summer picnic they met
on a blanket full of warmth and good conversation.
Hilda was a ballerina of 23 on a break from performing
Frank was 33 resting after organizing a union.
They spoke with friends and each other about:
the arts,
politics,
social justice.
She felt she knew him
And he couldn’t forget her.
The day they met she whispered to her best friend “This is the man I will marry.”
They would not be parted for very long
He would find her and they would move in together for six months
unheard of back in the 1930s.
They said their “I dos” down at City Hall in New York City.
Simple but meaningful to them both.
Two babies followed: Peter and Bill.
Day to day life:
PTA meetings,
marching for social justice,
labor union organizing,
raising children,
Ann pitched in,
being separated during the week,
spending time some precious time alone on weekends,
ballet and Israel,
Paul Robeson,
long talks with friends into the night over vodka and knishes,
standing up for what was right,
She was 53 and he was 63.
It came quickly from stroke.
World was shattered.
Life went on but differently:
sons were grown,
worked for Hudson’s Bay,
lived with sister Ann,
traveled all over the world.
Grand-children.
Great-grand-children.
Something was missing.
Frank was missing,
the love of Hilda’s life.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Tears
They say that tears are the window to your soul.
Tears let me into the door of my heart.
Tears can cloud my eyes but when I dry them I tend to see more clearly.
They take me on a journey to discover what I want and how I feel.
Tears can shake me to the quick, but they don't have to be scary.
They come as a teacher or a friend who says gently or roughly sometimes,"Pay attention."
Tears can come as soft as a lover's caress or as hard as a Hurricane hitting land.
At these times we must hold ourselves gently.
I also know that this too shall pass.
Tears let me into the door of my heart.
Tears can cloud my eyes but when I dry them I tend to see more clearly.
They take me on a journey to discover what I want and how I feel.
Tears can shake me to the quick, but they don't have to be scary.
They come as a teacher or a friend who says gently or roughly sometimes,"Pay attention."
Tears can come as soft as a lover's caress or as hard as a Hurricane hitting land.
At these times we must hold ourselves gently.
I also know that this too shall pass.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Communication Confusion
Communication Confusion
What did you say?
Did you really mean that?
I don't get it.
I don't get you.
Please explain your idea more clearly.
Excuse me.
What is it that you want from me?
I just want to tell you know something that is important to me.
I am listening.
I am not sure that you are listening or really care what I have to say.
What a mess!!
Not you.. just how we are communicating.
Just slow down and breathe.
You talk and I will listen.
In five minutes, I would like to talk and then I want you to listen.
I can agree to that.
That's it.
Simple.
Thank you.
Kisses.
Here goes....
What did you say?
Did you really mean that?
I don't get it.
I don't get you.
Please explain your idea more clearly.
Excuse me.
What is it that you want from me?
I just want to tell you know something that is important to me.
I am listening.
I am not sure that you are listening or really care what I have to say.
What a mess!!
Not you.. just how we are communicating.
Just slow down and breathe.
You talk and I will listen.
In five minutes, I would like to talk and then I want you to listen.
I can agree to that.
That's it.
Simple.
Thank you.
Kisses.
Here goes....
Monday, January 8, 2007
Leap of Faith
Taking a leap of faith into the unknown?
Yes, I am.
Starting a new therapeutic business.
Scary, Yeah?
Exciting, yes?
The unknown is filled with situations and people I want and
some I haven't planned for
Oops!! Thats life.
Prayer helps.
Visualization and making things real are part of the process.
Cleaning and painting help me make things more real, like a new office.
A little unease is part of the mix.
"No." Is thrown in now and then to bring the heat up.
But be ready to hear the "yes", they come too. Yes!!
"Yes" is like a waterfall on a hot July day. Whopee!
Sweat and tears won't hurt me, laughter is the grease that makes things go.
I haven't laughed today yet.
Time to smile and think about puppies or having tea with my Grandma.
It helps my day go better.
Yes, I am.
Starting a new therapeutic business.
Scary, Yeah?
Exciting, yes?
The unknown is filled with situations and people I want and
some I haven't planned for
Oops!! Thats life.
Prayer helps.
Visualization and making things real are part of the process.
Cleaning and painting help me make things more real, like a new office.
A little unease is part of the mix.
"No." Is thrown in now and then to bring the heat up.
But be ready to hear the "yes", they come too. Yes!!
"Yes" is like a waterfall on a hot July day. Whopee!
Sweat and tears won't hurt me, laughter is the grease that makes things go.
I haven't laughed today yet.
Time to smile and think about puppies or having tea with my Grandma.
It helps my day go better.
Friday, January 5, 2007
Leadership
What makes a good leader?
What makes someone stand up for something?
To feel so inspired that they can't be quiet anymore.
To do what is right even if it is unpopular.
It doesn't take a blow torch or knocking someone over the head.
It means making a choice and doing what you feel is right in your heart and running with it until you are satisified with the outcome.
It means being a part of something bigger than you. It is not about you or being a star.
It is about opening your heart and being a mirror for the good in other hearts.
Reaching out, trusting that you are not alone in the actions you take.
Even if you are a single voice, know that you are speaking for others and others will join you and speak up for the greater good.
We have a woman now as speaker of the House. I feel proud of America this moment and this poem is dedicated to the leader in all of us.
What makes someone stand up for something?
To feel so inspired that they can't be quiet anymore.
To do what is right even if it is unpopular.
It doesn't take a blow torch or knocking someone over the head.
It means making a choice and doing what you feel is right in your heart and running with it until you are satisified with the outcome.
It means being a part of something bigger than you. It is not about you or being a star.
It is about opening your heart and being a mirror for the good in other hearts.
Reaching out, trusting that you are not alone in the actions you take.
Even if you are a single voice, know that you are speaking for others and others will join you and speak up for the greater good.
We have a woman now as speaker of the House. I feel proud of America this moment and this poem is dedicated to the leader in all of us.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Home
Home
What makes a home? Is it the brick, cement, metal and wood that create a home? It is what the heart knows, connections between loved ones, the feeling of being held with love and safety. It is the feeling of being seen as good enough and encouraged to go for what you want, even if it involves leaving home to make your dreams come true. As you make your journey into to this unknown adventure, you find that your home is still with you in your heart. It says to you, “We are with you, you are safe and you can do this.” Your sense of home is reflected in the way you say “hello”, help out a friend, and stand up for yourself. Home is also a place you may return to again and again. You are welcomed with open arms.
What makes a home? Is it the brick, cement, metal and wood that create a home? It is what the heart knows, connections between loved ones, the feeling of being held with love and safety. It is the feeling of being seen as good enough and encouraged to go for what you want, even if it involves leaving home to make your dreams come true. As you make your journey into to this unknown adventure, you find that your home is still with you in your heart. It says to you, “We are with you, you are safe and you can do this.” Your sense of home is reflected in the way you say “hello”, help out a friend, and stand up for yourself. Home is also a place you may return to again and again. You are welcomed with open arms.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Mom and Me in Paris
Mom and Me in Paris
By Eve Brownstone
Mom said to me “I don’t think we spent this much time together since you were in Kindergarten.” There was a brief wave of fear and nausea in my gut. It could have been the jambon (ham) and fromage (cheese) I just consumed for breakfast. This was our first morning in Paris together for a start of a ten day vacation. Before I left Chicago, a friend said with a smile, you might want to kill your mom 20%, if you don’t come to blows 70% of the time it is a good time. This friend had just spent some quality time in Europe with his daughter and was speaking from experience. I laughed at the time.
During the ten days in Paris, I experienced the magnificent Eiffel Tower, café au lait and exquisite people watching at side walk cafes, the beauty of Versailles the but more importantly, my mom and I got to know each other. It wasn’t all crème Brule and champagne but mom and I kept talking which helped.
Our second night in Paris we were out on a café/ people watching adventure in Bastille Square, home of The French Revolution of 1789(there were others) and my mom and I developed this code word to use to let her know when she was pressing my buttons. The code word was “Le pain”; it means the bread in French. My mom’s code word was to growl. This kept us laughing together for most of the night.
Le pain did come in handy. While out “shopping till we drop” mom encouraged me to be thrifty, which was a good idea, but then persuaded me to buy a red scarf. I am glad she did, but I can be too influenced by my mother when she holds something in front of me saying “Don’t you want this?” I wish I could have said it’s lovely but I don’t really want it. Another “le pain” moment came when we talked about me quitting my job due to burn out.
I spoke from my heart. I told mom that “I feel like I had been living my life for other people. I am tired and burned out from my last job. I’ve been working for other people for almost seventeen years and I want to try to be my own boss.” I am a therapist. Once you’re a therapist you never really stop being one. I told my mom, “I want to be a writer. You know that I have been working on a novel for two years. It is important to me. I want to have time to get it published.”
Mom said,”I hear you but I can’t help worrying about you. I am not going to stop being your mother.” I said, “I am glad that you are my mother and I love you but that there are better uses of your energy than to worry about me. I like it when you ask me how my book is going.” We agreed to continue to talk and learn how to accept each other more. I felt like our talking this stuff out brought us closer.
Mom got to exercise her growling abilities due to my late night snoring habits. Mom and I shared a hotel room. We slept in separate beds but had to be creative about finding a good solution to the problem of both mom and daughter both snore like chainsaws.
“Oh, boy, roll over mom, I’d say.” Mom and I both tried those anti-snore strips that you put on your nose and of course earplugs. One of the best remedies was pure exhaustion.
Mom and I were on the go all day to Le Louvre, Le Musee D’orsay , Le Pompidou or Le Champs-Élysées and most of the night to a Jazz club on Lombard St., Saint Chapell for Shubert and Dvorak, Saint Germain De Pre for a round of extreme people watching and a walk about to try to find where mom lived for a summer in 1956. Mom came to Paris with her mom and little sister, when her mom was on sabbatical from teaching. They could have stayed in Paris for a year but decided to live in London because it rained everyday in Paris.
Mom was glad to be back in Paris. This time the weather was beautiful for eight of our ten days. The rain and cold made a brief appearance cause it could. It rained at Versailles. I traveled to Chateau de Versailles by myself. That was another thing my friend suggested to have alone time. Good idea. The magnificence of the palace and the stunning grounds were breathtaking, I spent the whole day.
I tried to imagine myself at fourteen coming to this enormous palace for the first time as Marie Antoinette. I learned that Louis –Phillip her husband wasn’t much older at fifteen. They didn’t consummate their marriage for four years. Sophia Coppla’s movie Marie Antoinette, which mom and I saw together at a Parisian movie theater, made the young queen seem likeable but very naive. Mom and I were surprised at the empty movie theater. Maybe there were three other people in the theater.
This trip to Paris with my mom was full of learning. Facing my fear of heights at the top of the Eiffel Tower, negotiating how to end the loud snoring coming from the other bed, and understanding better where my mom is coming from were important lessons I learned. I am glad we liked each other at least 70% of the time Mom. Where to next???
By Eve Brownstone
Mom said to me “I don’t think we spent this much time together since you were in Kindergarten.” There was a brief wave of fear and nausea in my gut. It could have been the jambon (ham) and fromage (cheese) I just consumed for breakfast. This was our first morning in Paris together for a start of a ten day vacation. Before I left Chicago, a friend said with a smile, you might want to kill your mom 20%, if you don’t come to blows 70% of the time it is a good time. This friend had just spent some quality time in Europe with his daughter and was speaking from experience. I laughed at the time.
During the ten days in Paris, I experienced the magnificent Eiffel Tower, café au lait and exquisite people watching at side walk cafes, the beauty of Versailles the but more importantly, my mom and I got to know each other. It wasn’t all crème Brule and champagne but mom and I kept talking which helped.
Our second night in Paris we were out on a café/ people watching adventure in Bastille Square, home of The French Revolution of 1789(there were others) and my mom and I developed this code word to use to let her know when she was pressing my buttons. The code word was “Le pain”; it means the bread in French. My mom’s code word was to growl. This kept us laughing together for most of the night.
Le pain did come in handy. While out “shopping till we drop” mom encouraged me to be thrifty, which was a good idea, but then persuaded me to buy a red scarf. I am glad she did, but I can be too influenced by my mother when she holds something in front of me saying “Don’t you want this?” I wish I could have said it’s lovely but I don’t really want it. Another “le pain” moment came when we talked about me quitting my job due to burn out.
I spoke from my heart. I told mom that “I feel like I had been living my life for other people. I am tired and burned out from my last job. I’ve been working for other people for almost seventeen years and I want to try to be my own boss.” I am a therapist. Once you’re a therapist you never really stop being one. I told my mom, “I want to be a writer. You know that I have been working on a novel for two years. It is important to me. I want to have time to get it published.”
Mom said,”I hear you but I can’t help worrying about you. I am not going to stop being your mother.” I said, “I am glad that you are my mother and I love you but that there are better uses of your energy than to worry about me. I like it when you ask me how my book is going.” We agreed to continue to talk and learn how to accept each other more. I felt like our talking this stuff out brought us closer.
Mom got to exercise her growling abilities due to my late night snoring habits. Mom and I shared a hotel room. We slept in separate beds but had to be creative about finding a good solution to the problem of both mom and daughter both snore like chainsaws.
“Oh, boy, roll over mom, I’d say.” Mom and I both tried those anti-snore strips that you put on your nose and of course earplugs. One of the best remedies was pure exhaustion.
Mom and I were on the go all day to Le Louvre, Le Musee D’orsay , Le Pompidou or Le Champs-Élysées and most of the night to a Jazz club on Lombard St., Saint Chapell for Shubert and Dvorak, Saint Germain De Pre for a round of extreme people watching and a walk about to try to find where mom lived for a summer in 1956. Mom came to Paris with her mom and little sister, when her mom was on sabbatical from teaching. They could have stayed in Paris for a year but decided to live in London because it rained everyday in Paris.
Mom was glad to be back in Paris. This time the weather was beautiful for eight of our ten days. The rain and cold made a brief appearance cause it could. It rained at Versailles. I traveled to Chateau de Versailles by myself. That was another thing my friend suggested to have alone time. Good idea. The magnificence of the palace and the stunning grounds were breathtaking, I spent the whole day.
I tried to imagine myself at fourteen coming to this enormous palace for the first time as Marie Antoinette. I learned that Louis –Phillip her husband wasn’t much older at fifteen. They didn’t consummate their marriage for four years. Sophia Coppla’s movie Marie Antoinette, which mom and I saw together at a Parisian movie theater, made the young queen seem likeable but very naive. Mom and I were surprised at the empty movie theater. Maybe there were three other people in the theater.
This trip to Paris with my mom was full of learning. Facing my fear of heights at the top of the Eiffel Tower, negotiating how to end the loud snoring coming from the other bed, and understanding better where my mom is coming from were important lessons I learned. I am glad we liked each other at least 70% of the time Mom. Where to next???
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