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ignite a sense of attachment and grounding (Gil & Drewes, 2005; Mills, 2011). Two such examples illustrate this point on an individual level (Clayton) and at a broader cultural level (Indonesia’s Movement of Play).


Clayton and His Heart-Drum Clayton (pseudonym), a male adolescent, lived in a residential treatment center due to extremely aggressive and self-harming behavior. His mother was deceased. All his father told him about her was that she was from the Lakota Nation and that she was an alcoholic. Clayton knew nothing of the tribal stories, beliefs, or traditions. He didn’t know his mother was sent to live in a boarding school as a young girl where she was forbidden to speak her language or pray in her traditional way. She endured what Duran (2006) called “soul wounding.”


By not connecting to her beliefs, spirituality, culture of origin, stories, or traditions, Clayton was disconnected from an essential part of himself. His mother was not just an alcoholic, she was born a Native American woman who endured cultural trauma and historical oppression. She went to her grave unable to tell the stories of her people to her son. Siegel (2012) stated, “We are storytelling creatures, and stories are the social glue that binds us to one another... the mind, as a fundamental part of our humanity, is shaped by story” (pp. 31-32, italics in original). The implication is that without stories, healthy attachment cannot be formed. Stories come in many forms, such as oral, music, movement, dance, art, etc. Clayton experienced an intergenerational soul wounding unintentionally passed down from the historical trauma his mother endured.


Over the years of experiencing personal relationships, learning from, and working with many people from different Native American nations, my office held numerous feathers, drums, pottery, stones, and pictures, given to me as gifts and often in payment for our work together. Clayton noticed these items with interest. I shared the stories I had learned about these sacred objects and healing ceremonies. Although not all from the Lakota Nation, the spirit of the stories began to touch something in Clayton that seemed to ignite a sense of determination to know more, an awakening of what I call “sleeping story memories,” or memories resting in the unconscious. With the belief that we all have invisible umbilical cords, I hypothesized that Clayton was experiencing a reconnection to his mother’s soul.


During our sessions, Clayton was especially drawn to several drums. I had learned the drum is not just an instrument, but the heartbeat of Native American culture; the heartbeat of Mother Earth. At times we drummed together and at other times we took turns creating drumbeat sounds in nature, such as thunder, rain, and wind. My client made a special connection to the drum. Rather than buying one, a drum-maker from a nearby Nation made a large drum with my client. In a sense, his “heart-drum” was beating in rhythm with his new discoveries of life.


The Magic of Play for Awakening Joy Spearheaded by Dr. Alice Arianto, the Movement of Play plan has received Indonesia’s recognition of the essential need for play to be included in therapeutic and educational program development benefiting children and families throughout the country for several generations. On October 13, 2018, 1,400 children, adolescents, and parents gathered in Jakarta, Indonesia to celebrate a day devoted to the Movement of Play.


Transported by buses from one of the most impoverished areas in Jakarta, numerous volunteers, students, and play therapists greeted everyone with welcoming smiles. Groups of children could enjoy cultural storytelling, puppetry, expressive arts, dance, and traditional cultural games in designated areas. One such activity involved providing a large outline of a heart and butterfly on which children could dip their fingers in colored paint and imprint their hopes and wishes with their fingertips. Hundreds of children eagerly joined in this experience. Their little fingerprints metaphorically brought their hopes and wishes to life.


Along with dignitaries who gave blessings to the occasion, I was invited to open the gathering by telling the Hawaiian story, “The Perfect Bowl of Light” (Lee & Willis, 1990; Mills, 1999, 2006 [pp. 207-213]), which was simultaneously translated as I spoke. After telling the story, I asked the children to hold out their hands in front of them and to imagine they were holding their bowls of light. After retelling the story, I led them in turning their hands over symbolically, emptying the stones in the story. We then brought our hands to our chests, patted our hearts, and ended by repeating, “the light is always there.”


During this occasion, a combination of cultures, from experiencing


Indonesian blessings to hearing and sharing a traditional Hawaiian story underscored the Movement of Play missions. Playing and creating story-


6 | PLAYTHERAPYMarch 2020 | www.a4pt.org


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