An Open Letter To Our Community from Tracey Chester, LMFT
An open letter to our community, from Tracey Chester, LMFT, Surf Therapist Intern, North San Diego County:
Outside today in America, we are all feeling extra pain. What is happening is nothing short of horrific; the pandemic, racial unrest, fear, and confusion is all too much, and has reached a boiling point.
The chaos is real out there.
Yesterday I turned to mother ocean to blow off some steam and maybe have some fun while I was at it. I went surfing at Cardiff. It was biggish (4-6) sized, windy and crumbly, and the tide was high and filling up quickly, to the point that paddling out was like slugging through molasses. After a mere 20 minutes I was beyond exhausted. I couldn’t seem to get out past the break, no matter how hard I tried. A sting ray caught my eye, and that made my decision final. I am out of here.
Sitting on the beach, I felt that familiar feeling of being an imposter. I looked longingly at the professional long-boarders, playing on these waves. And the non-professionals too of course. The waves were messy, but they made them look tame and fun. I wished I could be any of them for just an hour to get outside to catch a wave like that. And then be able to go back for more. I wished I learned to surf as a kid rather than as a 35 years old mother, with limited time to learn, who had to surf in whatever conditions were there when I got a chance.
Which wasn’t often enough.
The tide was coming in, slamming against the rocks while I hastily moved our stuff from the incoming tide. I watched my daughter fight and fight a rip current and it made me feel frustrated. I wanted to tell her; save your energy. Don’t do what I did, for years, I want to save her the frustration.
You see, there were many days, for years and years, literally and metaphorically, when I just didn’t get the hint that maybe this wasn’t the day for me to go out. I would just keep pushing and pushing, against enormous forces at times. I refused to accept that I was paddling 3 strokes forward, pushed 5 strokes back. I refused to accept that my illness affected me so similarly. I thought if I just work harder and longer, it will get better.
I was out there fighting rip currents, big waves, cold water, never turning back to see if my quiver had any alternatives.
I wish I had understood the ocean then as I do now.
To this day, many days, I forget that my body, though better than ever before, even without an un-tame current to fight through, feels like molasses. And I think it may be time to accept I may never get the energy or strength to get out there on bigger days. That does not mean I will stop trying, but I will approach it with a different attitude.
Groundswell has taught me about what a quiver really is. Literally, a quiver is a set of boards, each one unique in its size, shape, material and color. And each one is made lovingly, by a shaper, thinking about the rails, the rocker and fashioning a piece of art as well as sport. Each one suited for a certain kind of wave on a certain kind of day. The idea is that you have a quiver for all conditions.
For me, and for everyone, a quiver is not just a set of boards, it’s a set of tools, there when you need them for whatever the conditions are, both inside our body and minds and outside in the waves.
I liken the quiver to PPE (Personal Protective Equipment). At its simplest, it is simply the selection of the board you will take out., that will give you the best chance of catching some good rides and the ensuing endorphin rush.
My quiver is not as comprehensive yet as I’d like it to be. For me, and other women with trauma, PPE looks very different; it includes not just masks and soap, but also medical care, therapy and many other mind/body self-care practices, held within community and access to nature, which COVID regulations have made inaccessible
But the one quiver that no matter what the conditions are, makes the most sense is the quiver of self-compassion and acceptance that I have to remind myself to practice each and every day. I am who I am, and I struggle with the things I struggle with. So do you
And it’s not my fault. Or yours.
So, on those big days, I accept that I’m just not able to paddle to the outside, and I stay on the inside, riding the whitewater. Because I’ll do anything for the ride.
But there is a problem with that: the whitewater feels chaotic, the wind, the waves, the rip. I don’t find it calming at all. My nervous system fires in every direction, and the more stimuli, the worse I get. Endorphins rise to meet moments in the water, then fizzle out a few minutes later, leaving me depleted.
The outer chaos feeds my inner chaos.
Right now, during this unrest and strife, there are women for whom, this inner chaos has existed long before the pandemic.
I think about those living with illness and chronic pain. Those who are also living isolated lives, hidden from view. They put on a brave face when they see you but behind closed doors, they are a shell of themselves. There are no easy quick medical answers and with that comes years of uncertainty and fear.
What about women who live with domestic violence, where their frontlines may be a closet door away from their abusers? Or the woman who just had a baby, suffering from postpartum depression and is already sleep-deprived and isolated. Or the mother of a toddler who refuses to wear a mask and there is no reasoning, no school or playdates to keep busy.
Or the women for whom the color of their skin is often the foundation of much of their fear. For their children, for their community.
I would argue, that all of these women, are not only frontline workers, but are individual heroes themselves. They have their daily struggles with no end in sight. They are not being interviewed on national television about how hard their shift was. All of these women live with uncertainty, trying to “flatten” their own curves. Never knowing when they might encounter an intruder in the form of an abuser or illness. Feeling like there is no support, feeling alone, and invisible. Often with little hope in the best of times. And like the frontline heroes of Covid-19, they need adequate PPE.
For these women, although the reasons for the isolation and restrictions are understood by the logical mind, the emotional perception is of a cruel and agonizing reality.
Some of you are reading this today. Make no mistake; you are heroes.
Know you are heard, and seen, though it may not feel like it.
in the face of this looming, mental health global crisis mental health treatment is essential NOW;
Maintaining a healthy mind during this time is especially hard given these restrictions. It has become all the more evident, both intuitively and scientifically, that spending time in the outdoors is healing.
Groundswell is waiting to envelop you in our sisterhood and give you that glimmer of hope to begin healing from this time.
I believe surf therapy this summer will take on a whole new level. For me personally and for our community, and I am beyond thrilled to be a part of Groundswell.
As you may know if you read my last post, you will be hearing from me periodically, sharing lessons learned from a life of trauma and chronic pain. One such lesson, to be shared soon, is that I have had more than one special “healer” come into my life and my mission at San Diego Medical Pain and Trauma Institute is to gather them all together and make their services available to all in need.
Dr., Michelle Sexton, Naturopathic Doctor and Surfer, is one I’d like to introduce to you. I am so excited that Dr. Sexton, will be getting involved with Groundswell and we look forward to sharing more about mind/body healing.
I asked her how she feels about surf therapy…and what she has to say couldn’t be more perfect.
“Surfing is an excellent vehicle for developing physical courage, connecting with nature, developing relationships, practicing mindfulness, increasing endurance and culturing self-esteem. The feeling of mastering a wave and gliding on the surface is a form of empowerment that can be life altering! ”
We all feel the same way. I know I do. I know you do. Hang in there, we will get through this together.
About Tracey Chester
Tracey Chester, M.S., M.A., Certified Clinical Trauma Professional is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (LMFT 93387) and Founder and Clinical Director of the San Diego Medical Pain and Trauma Institute. She has worked for over a decade primarily treating chronic pain patients and their families, with five years as a Grief Counselor at the Erstwhile San Diego Hospice and Elizabeth Hospice. Her mission is dedicated to educating and providing trauma-informed healthcare modalities using a holistic approach, with primary care doctors, movement therapy, nutrition, and behavioral health providers that treat the whole person. She is amongst a small professional community that studies the relationship between grief, trauma and chronic illness/pain. Her research primarily focuses on the treatment of trauma through state-of-art modalities such as somatic experiencing, ketamine-assisted-therapy and the effects of THC/CBD on symptoms of pain and emotional trauma. Tracey is also a chronic pain patient herself and understands what it is like to try to live a meaningful life living with pain. She enjoys hiking, surfing, playing the drums, and spending time with her husband, kids and dogs doing all of that and more.
About Dr. Sexton:
Dr. Sexton graduated from Bastyr University in 2008. She completed NIH-funded pre-doctoral and post doctoral fellowships at the University of Washington in the department of Pharmacology and Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences. She is an internationallly recognized scientist with research published in peer-reviewed journals.
Presently, she is an Assistant Adjunct Professor in the Department of Anesthesia at the University of California, San Diego, and has a private practice in pacific beach, near mother ocean. Her clinical work focuses on body/mind healing. Dr. sexton has been helping her patients fine-tune their endocannaboid systems since 2008. Her overall approach may include; herbs, nutrition, lifestyle changes, self-discovery and care and feeding of the soul. Dr Sexton enjoys surfing, swimming, gardening, guitar playing, giving back to her community, grandkids and engaging in life-giving outdoor activities in her spare time. Find out more at www.msextonnd.com.