Natasha Duchene MA, RCC, SEP

Registered clinical counsellor and somatic experiencing practitioner in Yellowknife, NT

What Dogs Can Teach Us About Trauma and Accepting Love

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As any of my friends can attest, I am a lover of dogs. I love my dog, of course, but I also have a huge soft spot for all dogs. Okay, I’m pretty enthusiastic about all animals truly, but dogs! Dogs. I love dogs.

I have a friend, Tia, who has several big dogs, who she takes for big pack walks nearly every day, in fact she loves her dogs so much that she has made an entire business out of taking care of, and giving a loving home to, dogs.

Tia on a pack walk with the most royal of princess dogs, Picea

Two members of her pack are former street dogs, strays who before coming into her life survived by their own instincts and the kindness of strangers. They were fearful of humans and she worked very hard to earn their trust and to support them in their socialization to humans.

I imagine that for a stray dog, coming to live with Tia is a bit like being adopted into the royal family. Suddenly there is a warm, soft place to sleep, gentle humans attending to you at almost all times, a sweet pack of other (royal) dogs, huge walks, tasty food at regular intervals, and the other members of the pack are very entitled to all the love and treats they get. Every morning all the dogs jump on her bed and get all the rubs and love they can get, while at night she invites them all up on her massive couch while she does her admin work. And yes, she bought this massive couch specifically so that they could all fit on it at the same time.

The most recent of these dogs is named Mirimar, and was particularly fearful at first, but can now accept rubs from visitors, and asks for food from pretty much anyone in her home who happens to be eating something tasty. It has taken a long time, and is an incredible testament to Tia’s patience and understanding that she has come this far. For months, everyone who came in the house was  given strict instructions to not approach her or to try and touch her, even if she was coming close.  Tia was fiercely protective of Mirimar’s space and safety, and as a result she has gone from a dog who cowered for days upon coming in the house, to almost a normal pet. However, she still flinches at sudden movements, shrinks when someone raises a hand to pet her too quickly or from the wrong angle, and runs away when people walk too fast or with too much purpose. As I sat next to her on the couch the other day, enjoying her warmth and softness, I got up quickly to grab something from the kitchen. And this sweet little dog, not trusting me entirely, jumped off the couch and skirted away. Sure, logically she probably knew I wasn’t going to hurt her, but her instincts are strong, and they kicked in with lightning speed. She quickly realized that she didn’t need to hide, however, stopped suddenly, then climbed slowly back on to the couch, head lowered.

Literally every person who comes into Tia’s home wants to give this dog love and affection, but she still has a hard time accepting it – though she gets better all the time.

It made me think about how similar we are to our canine friends, and how hard it can be to trust and to accept love. To know that we have a right to exist, to take up space, and to be welcome in our wholeness. If we have endured certain kinds of hardship in our lives, suffered abuse, or simply been told we are “too much”, then it can feel safer to do without than to allow ourselves to be relaxed, soft and vulnerable, even when we are presented with love and nourishment. It can be scary to be held tenderly, to let go of control in our relationships, and we can find ourselves triggered at the most innocuous moments. And that’s in the best of circumstances! Mirimar has the best situation any of us could ever hope for – Tia is her fierce protector and I doubt she will ever be harmed again. In reality, we still need to be assessing whether we are safe or not, while also practicing opening up to people who are trustworthy. (note: here is a practical resource if this is something you are working on right now)

What I want to say to you is that’s okay. Healing takes time. Be gentle with yourself. It’s a practice, and I believe in you.

I sometimes wonder if Mirimar ever feels discouraged as she sees her packmates jump up into Tia’s arms, while she gingerly climbs up, as if checking to see if she is really welcome. As I watched her take a few cautious steps back towards me, I was suddenly struck by the memory of fear I’ve felt many times in my own life – as people have reached out to me with kindness or offers of friendship, and my subsequent frustration as I have struggled to let people in, and the crushing disappointment when I do and find myself let down. To be confronting fear all the time is exhausting, and when you throw a dose of self-judgement and re-traumatization in there, it can be everything to keep from giving up.

Mirimar with trustworthy Toad. It’s ok to be choosy about who we get close to.

Mirimar reminds us to be kind to ourselves when fear arises, and to take gentle steps in the direction of our own pleasure. She reminds us to be patient, and to check in with ourselves and our surroundings each step of the way to ensure that we are in fact safe. And while there are moments where it might be too scary to climb on that comfy couch, we can also take our time, stay present in our senses, and then take the steps when we are ready. Ultimately healing is a process that allows us to let in more nourishment – more love, more connection, and it is worth it. Perhaps Mirimar will inspire you to continue or to begin taking steps in the direction you long for as well.

3 Things I Learned From Writing Songs in 1 Hour

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I have a sticky note on the wall of my office that says: “WRITE MORE SONGS. WRITE BAD SONGS. WRITE GOOD SONGS. JUST WRITE SONGS.” My hope was that would inspire me to bust out my instrument a little more often and get something ready to publish. But nope, that didn’t happen. So a little while ago I decided that it was time to confront one of my biggest demons as a songwriter: my perfectionist streak which was contributing to writer’s block.

I gave myself a challenge. Each week, I had to write a song in one hour. I asked my facebook friends for title suggestions, and then I would pick one that resonated and go for it. The songs weren’t perfect, but that wasn’t the point. They got done, and I learned a lot in the process. Here are some of my favourite take-aways:

    1. That line you’re stuck on? You know the one, with that obvious rhyme that just feels cliche so you’re waiting for a better idea to come along. Or maybe it just doesn’t quite make sense. Oh well, just write it down anyway. It can always be changed later. Often those lines are bottlenecks and the rest of the song is waiting to follow.
    2. Let yourself be surprised. Once in awhile I’d be improvising and there’d be a line that I’d immediately dismiss because I just couldn’t imagine it going anywhere, or because I thought it was too obvious, or whatever. Giving myself permission to explore those possibilities has expanded my range as a songwriter significantly. For example, I was surprised to discover that the line, “I’m calling the president” over a bluesy lick turned into my first protest song ever. I felt huge resistance to singing those words, because it felt preachy and because I just couldn’t imagine it going anywhere interesting. In the end I was super happy with it.
    3. Treat it like a school assignment that you’re not getting graded on and maybe not even terribly invested in. I know it sounds awful, because many of us tend to hold art as this sacred thing. Instead, make the creative space as the sacred thing, and just get some words on the page. As Julia Cameron writes, it’s like this: “Great Creator, I will take care of the quantity. You take care of the quality.”

These three things have changed my songwriting forever, and allowed me to write more songs last year than I ever have before. If you want to write more songs, maybe consider joining me in my 6 Week 1h Songwriting Challenge! It’s a pretty awesome way to step outside your creative comfort zone, and it’s totally free (for now)!

1h Songwriting Club Launch

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Introducing the 1h Songwriting Club & 6-Week Challenge! You can listen to the songs from my own 1h Songwriting Challenge here, and I’ve also written about it here. Keep reading to learn more and to sign up!

Here’s what you need to know:

  • The goal of the project is to write one song per week for six weeks, giving yourself just one hour to write it. Fortunately, these songs don’t need to be perfect. They just need to be done.
  • Each week you’ll get an email from me with this week’s songwriting challenge, and a question to get things rolling. You also get added to a supportive community of songwriters to discuss the craft, challenges and to share our work.
  • As a perk for signing up, you also get access to online coaching from me, free (!) for the six weeks of the challenge.

Here is what it is not:

  • This isn’t a songwriting course. If you’ve never written a song before, this might not be for you. That said, the best way to learn is just to try it out! And of course if you would like songwriting lessons or in-person / phone coaching sessions, I am available for that too.

The Philosophy:

If your songs turn out awesome, that is great. But that isn’t the point! So many of us don’t finish things because we don’t think it’s good enough. The point here to just get something down on paper, because the more we finish, the better we get at it. Sign up below and don’t forget to click on the confirmation link in your email! Please note you’ll need to have a google+ account to join the community. Thank you!



Memories, Leonard Cohen’s Passing

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Charlie and I singing together for the first time

Leonard Cohen was a staple in our house growing up. I would sing along with the backup singers on Marianne, and learned the French words phonetically in The Partisan. I loved it when there was a woman’s voice I could sing along with. His words were so evocative and his voice spoke directly to my imagination – I could sense the woman spinning a spider web around a man’s ankle, and felt the loneliness of Jesus in his tower, surrounded by a dark ocean. I wondered why he was saying goodbye to Marianne when he felt such tenderness for her. His words fed my young imagination and my love of music, and years later those same songs still strike me with their depth and move me to tears.

When I went on my first ever road trip with Lung Liu to the Salton Sea, we stayed in a city of squatters called Slab City. There, I met Charlie, an artist and composer who had created something of a live-in art installation there. We camped in the wash near his sculpture garden, and every morning my friend and I would look over at the morning sun shining on the glittering bits of metal and wonder if we were welcome to go stroll through it. if you want that you cellphone´s battery works better check these helpful resources.

One night, Builder Bill managed to solder a power supply to an old synthesizer he had kicking around and got me set up to play on his stage. It was a magical night, full moon rising, and even though there were only a few friends in the audience, I felt so connected up there. I left for a little walk, and as I walked away I noticed a man slowly and very methodically unpacking his guitars. When I returned, he was singing in a slow, meditative voice and I felt called to join in. I climbed on stage and slipped my voice in with his. At the end of the song, I asked him who wrote it, and he answered, “Leonard Cohen”. I lit up. When I asked what other songs he knew by him, he replied, “oh, everything”. And so we played into the evening, under the moon, and there was magic in our voices and those songs that I have yet to experience again.

Charlie and I were fast friends, and each night we would stay up late around the campfire passing his guitar back and forth and sharing the songs that were most dear to us. As the sun neared the horizon I would say goodnight and walk back to camp to join my friends. “Famous Blue Raincoat” was the first complete song we ever sang together.

Charlie and I weren’t friends when he died, though I always thought that we would be again someday. Whenever I sing this song, I still imagine him in the desert, unreachable, playing his own song under the night sky. I still miss him.

Meeting Charlie shook me to my core and changed me forever, and now that he is gone I am even more grateful for the songs that we shared, and which I still hold dear to my heart. I always meant to write a letter to Leonard Cohen thanking him for the songs that brought us together and fed my love for music. Now that it’s too late for that, I’ll just leave this here. Thank you, Leonard Cohen.

Spontaneous Song, Intuitive Voices

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August 21, 2016. 3pm – 5pm
Ptarmigan Rehearsal Space, Yellowknife, NT

This is my last workshop before I head off to school for a year. By donation, and it’s all going to tuition, baby!

In this vocal improvisation workshop for intermediate to advanced singers, we will create spontaneous songs and explore this art form together. We will use some of Rhiannon’s improvisation forms, move our bodies, and create works in both large and small ensemble. If you want learn more about vans for sell you could try these out.

Singers should be comfortable singing with others (choir experience is awesome!) and an ability to hear and sing harmony would be great. If you’ve ever sung harmony with the radio, then this will be a great workshop for you! People who are interested in or already write songs will also get a lot out of this practice. Music theory and formal training is not necessary. Just bring your ears, your voice and your heart and let the music guide you.

Suggested donation: $20.
Questions and registration email Natasha at nduchene@gmail.com or call (867) 446-2651.