Bridging employment supports

Another good thing that has happened over the past few months was that I got into a program of Canadian Mental Health Association called Bridging Employment Supports. It is designed for people with disabilities, including mental health concerns. I registered not long after going into the day hospital program last February, but sat on a waiting list for several months. It involves one-on-one counseling sessions for 8 weeks or so. Apparently I accessed the same program in Guelph in the late 90s (my new counselor has a record of it), but I hardly remember it. I do remember having a counselor in some program who I met for several weeks, who I really liked, and who was ready to go to bat and make connections for me before her program got cut. Thank you very much, Mike Harris (Ontario premier at the time who cut funding for mental health programs). I didn't find a steady job until 2006.

This time around the program seems much different. The counselor is another great fit for me. The first few weeks we focused on identifying my aptitudes, interests, skills, experiences -- a lot of the usual exercises you might associate with a job finding program -- but also a few that surprised me.

One of the most interesting was a questionnaire about , "What motivates you?" Some people want to get ahead in their careers, some seek personal development, some want stability, for some it meets social needs, and so on. Sometimes our motivations collide. What I learned is that I am primarily an authenticity seeker: my work and the people I work with must mesh with my personal values, and I must feel free to express myself honestly and creatively. This motivation pretty much trumps anything else I might want. Freelance careers are ideal for authenticity seekers because they can choose what to do and who to work for. I love the freelance work I do. It has been a light through the tunnel of the past two years.

But the absence of job stability they can be terrible for people who want financial stability. Financial stability has never been an obvious motivator for me. If anyone asked, I would usually say I don't care about much about money, but I expect to be compensated fairly for the work I do.

Some motivation types (authenticity seekers and socializers, for example) are unlikely to change in the course of their lives -- those things are part of a person's termperament. Others (career climbing, stability seeking) can be more age-dependent or situational. I grew up with financial stability, so it turns out money is a significant, unconscious motivator for me. In fact, when I have financial problems, I crash and burn. This exercise provided crystal clear insight not only to the depressive episode of the past two years, but to ongoing difficulties of the past 22. In particular, now I understand why I've always experienced emotional barriers to pursuing the work I feel passionate about as an authenticity seeker. It never offered a quick fix to financial problems that overshadowed me. Without Danny's support, I doubt I would ever have taken the leap of faith to start getting my work published (and getting paid for it), as I did in 2012.

Additionally this insight also clarifies something I was aware of about my community involvements but had trouble pinning down: I don't do well when financial uncertainties are involved. This is why I felt so drained in organizing the men's knitting retreat (an event in 2016 that meant a lot to me), and taking on board responsibilities for our spinners' and weavers' guild. It was even a challenge the year I organized the annual reunion for a few high school friends (which happened concurrently with the knitting retreat, and that was far more difficult). In contrast, I loved volunteering as a librarian at Out On The Shelf -- until I got involved in fundraising programs! So it isn't going to hurt me to get involved in the community organizations that mean so much to me (as an authenticity seeker). But in future I'll avoid taking on any financial responsibilities. Sure, all of these things need money, but I need my own affairs in order before I can be much use to anyone else.

This clarifies the importance of having more financial stability of my own, independent of anyone else. In practical terms, a part-time job will help me contribute more to the household income and save towards retirement. As an authenticity seeker I might not need that job to make use of my best skills as a writer, but it must support things I value, like the environment, community, or the arts. If I try to do business writing (which most freelancers do for their bread and butter work), it should be for non-profits. It will not replace my work as a journalist, but hopefully support and augment it. This is profoundly useful to understand. It helps me appreciate why I'd consider starting to work at minimum wage for a library, conservation program, or community organization, but would hate a better-paying job for a corporation.

It also helps me understand other people, and why they hold jobs that don't necessarily reflect their values. In fact, the work sheet revealed that as an authenticity seeker, "you are part of a small percentage of the workforce." It didn't say any of the other motivation types were uncommon. I've often heard an inner voice telling myself, "Sure you love doing these things, sure they're worthwhile, don't underestimate the importance of them, but your interests and skills just don't fit in anywhere. Consumer society doesn't value them. Consumer society is stupid. It's not your fault, but it sucks." I'd like to stop bashing myself over the head with that particular shape of despair. The motivational test says I'm a rare breed, but that means I'm not alone. Undoubtedly there are people who want to employ people like me.

In case you're interested, here's the whole list of motivations from What Next? by Barbara Moses:

• sociability seekers


• career builders


• authenticity seekers


• personal developers


• autonomy seekers


• novelty seekers


• stability seekers


• lifestylers

Anything sound familiar? Most freelancers are probably authenticity seekers, autonomy seekers (i.e. rebels without a cause), novelty seekers (boredom is death!), or lifestylers (people who want to control work/life balance, either because liesure activities are essential to who they are, or because of temporary concerns, like having children).

From Bridging Employment Supports, I'm preparing to switch gears into a Links to Work program. This helps with:

1. the job search itself.


2. developing an employment wellness plan, including a self-care plan, and determining what supports are needed from CMHA and potential employers.


3. developing job search and interview skills.


4. once I secure a job, 12 weeks of job maintenance coaching.

This all seems immensely helpful, as I haven't actually gone through a successful job interview in 26 years. And in most of the steady employment I've had, I've floundered. Now I understand some of the reasons why.

Things are much different now in the world. And I am different, too. So I hope this program is as helpful as it looks, and has been so far.

Altered state

While meditating today, I experienced what seemed like an altered state of consciousness. It wasn't the first time. I've experienced different kinds of sensations and perceptions since I started meditating regularly last fall. However, I don't recall it starting until I began using meditation guides incorporating periods of silence.

Back in the winter, the first thing I noticed was paresthesia, a tingling in parts or most of my body, especially the extremities but also my chest and face. I've seen it described as a sensation of insects crawling on the skin, however for me it's a pleasant and relaxing sensation. It puzzled me. In some of the information I looked up, I found religious writers suggesting it was a positive sign of spiritual purification. I don't relate to that. I began practicing meditation not for religious reasons but to develop mindfulness as an approach to mental health. Other writers (both religious and non-religious) suggested some people experience paresthesia while meditating, that it's neither good nor bad, but not to let it become a distraction. That's how I've treated it. It's kind of pleasant, but I try not to look for it to happen, which is even a step down from expecting it to happen! It still happens frequently, but it has become less intense than the first two or three occasions. It's a purely physical sensation, but clearly it has something to do with whatever is going on neurologically when I meditate -- or else it has to do with how I perceive sensations differently during meditation.

What began happening a few weeks ago was more clearly a change in consciousness. From time to time, I began experiencing what are best described as daydreams. They are comparable to dreaming, especially the lucid dreams I've sometimes experienced during hypnagogia, the transition from being awake to being asleep. However, I would sometimes get wrapped up in these images to the extent that I lost lucidity (the awareness that I was dreaming). They wouldn't last long. Then I would snap back to the present. For a moment I would be discombobulated, aware that I was meditating but having forgotten what my focus was supposed to be. Never did I feel sleepy, although these daydreams usually occurred on days after I had a suboptimal sleep.

From the beginning of my training in mindfulness practice, I was taught to handle distractions deftly. It's not a matter of trying to eliminate thoughts and feelings during meditation, but learning how to let them go, and return to focusing on the breath -- or, after some experience in mindfulness practice, if the purpose of meditation is to deal with difficulty, to allow unpleasant thoughts or feelings to remain in consciousness, "on the workbench of the mind." Not to change them or make them go away, but to accept them. I've practiced all of this and found it very useful.

From the beginning, the instructors spoke of daydreams as another category of distraction. I didn't experience them at first, during the steadily guided meditations of the course. My distractions included feelings, physical sensations (including paresthesia), sometimes verbal thoughts, and especially abstract thoughts about the circumstances of my life. It wasn't until after I began using guided meditations with longer periods of silence that I began experiencing these vivid, disconcerting daydreams. In the context of the meditation practice, I treated them as distractions, always bringing myself back (sometimes despite momentary confusion) to the point of focus. However, I also felt it would be interesting and probably useful to explore this phenomenon at an appropriate time.

The past few days I've been working through a series of meditations (on Headspace.com) intended to promote creativity. It's probably my favourite series so far. It involves switching back and forth from periods of gentle focus on the breath (the default state for mindfulness meditation) and periods of letting the mind go free, thinking whatever it wants. The speaker previously compared it to flying a kite: sometimes you pull the string to keep control, and sometimes you let it go. It's very good. In fact, I'm finding it to be an awesome practice. I've had some wonderful ideas and phrases, and fascinating images have come to mind in the usual way.

Until today. I was imagining a scene, and then I could "almost hear" some music accompanying it. I haven't imagined any sounds yet, and as I was in the free-thinking phase of the exercise, I allowed my mind to follow that melody and listen to it. It was sweet and lovely.

Suddenly, a daydream hit me violently. It was the closest to a lucid dream I've experienced, but all the lucid dreams I've ever recalled have been pleasant or neutral. This one was frightening. There were no concrete shapes. I felt like I was a rocket barreling through space, with light and darkness streaming past me. It was accompanied by body tremors.

I chose not to resist the sensation. I had come here to access my creativity, hadn't I? My inner thought was, "Put on your speed goggles! Fasten your seatbelt!" I plummeted into a sensation of intense fear, knowing I had allowed it and that it would pass, as all feelings do.

It didn't last for long. The session proceeded. The recording continued its instructions to focus on the breath for a few moments.....then let the mind go free. I hadn't forgotten where I was or what I was doing, but I lost track of when I was supposed to focus, when to unfocus. I returned to the default: focusing on the breath. Two or three more daydreams flashed over me, but they were nowhere near as intense. I could hardly hear the instructions.

I don't know what to make of it. It wasn't relaxing! I have no particular desire to look for this kind of experience, but neither do I feel inclined to avoid it. One theory I have is that it's associated with buried unpleasant memories, because I've recently become open to the possibility (likelihood?) that I have some. Another theory is that this has to do with fears around creativity and the content of what I might create. Either way, I'm prepared to face that fear rather than push it away. But there may be another explanation. Probably.