The Therapy Sand

When one of my far-flung daughters soon-to-return-home contemplated the upcoming home declutter so that she can dig her way into a corner that will be her new room, her immediate reaction was to tell me that the therapy sand bin would be the first thing that I would have to let go.

When my daughter was young, she and I and neighbouring children spent hours in our back-yard sand box.  Each home since then has had a large and well appointed sand-box with sand toys which is still a place of refuge and play for us all.

Much later, when it was determined that my younger children would benefit from therapy,  I spent long hours investigating possible therapists who would be able to help and stand with us all over the years.  Though cognitive behavioural therapy is the most researched and popular therapy offered especially in the local mental health regions, I wanted a broader approach for myself and my children.  Since my years studying bits of psychology in university many decades ago I have been struck with the effectiveness of play therapy.  The therapists finally chosen for the children each have expertise in play and sand therapy.  Often I was called in at the end of therapy sessions to witness ongoing healing and growth expressed in play and the sand table.  It was such a place of calm integration for my girls.

When a therapist friend was changing the direction of her own practice, she offered me a large flat tub full of very fine, white sand brought specially from the beaches of California.  Since then that indoor sand tub has brought hours of release and calm to us all in the long and rainy winter months.  Over the years I have carefully saved little plastic animals and figures.  They are perfect for play in this small sand tub.

The sand tub has had some very significant moments of use.  One of our daughters went through a time of very significant angst and pain.  She would have periods of uncontrollable generalized body pain and shaking that nothing would relieve.  During one of those episodes when I was close to taking her to the local hospital emergency, as a last resort I dragged the sand tub to a spot beside her bed.  She immediately started sifting the sand, feeling its soft smoothness fall between her fingers.  Over and over she would grasp for the sand and let it sift through her hands.  Her shaking and crying stopped.  The pain dissipated.  Together with our hands in the sand, calm was restored.

I still love feeling that sand and playing with the little figures scattered around the hills of sand.
No, my Rebecca, the sand tub will not be leaving.  Your corner is already waiting for you in open spaces and warm anticipation of you coming home soon, but tucked away my sand tub will remain.