“You have turned my mourning into dancing; 

you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, 

that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.

 O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!” 

–Psalm 30: 11-12 ESV

Our first intensive training for the EXIT(Expressive Arts in Transition) Cuba pilot project finished two weeks ago in Matanza, Cuba, but the yearlong practice and supervision process is just beginning. 10 creative and committed leaders will be artfully accompanying various communities throughout Cuba as they implement early intervention practices to help deal with the impacts of trauma. 

Due to ongoing trauma, we armor up to protect ourselves, get trapped in the past, and hold stress in our bodies. The arts help us to engage our senses to make sense of our stories, practice presence by staying in the here and now, and move forward in healthy ways as researchers of our own bodies. With a focus on salutogenesis, an approach to human health that examines the factors contributing to the promotion and maintenance of physical and mental well-being rather than disease and pathology, we are learning to ask ourselves, “Where is health

here? What do I need to do that will nurture well-being here?

While in Matanza, we held stories of struggle and strength, we processed grief and frustrations, we sat in silence and song, painted and played, used our imaginations to travel in time and danced out animal strengths that would help us face our daily challenges. Immersed in the beautiful surroundings of the seminary overlooking the sea and shaded by flamboyan trees, we rediscovered the resources around and within us that we already possess. With the accompaniment of the community, one participant was able to name and take steps towards healing a debilitating fear that had plagued them for years. Another embraced a new perspective on a negative bias held and saw the benefits of a “both and” approach. By stepping into the future with a resource from the past and surrounded by friends now, another saw themselves accomplishing a long held dream within the year. These are just a few of the glimpses of transformation that we witnessed together.   

I am so grateful for the support of many folks who are making this pilot project a reality. Yim Locke’s name was drawn from the box of gift givers to receive the stained glass art that I made and Barb Shustek’s name was drawn to receive a collage made from the signatures and collaborative painting made by the participants. God works in communities to transform our mourning into dancing and our struggles into strengths.

Thanks for being a part of mine,

Mylinda

Accompany Cuba training in July

More than one billion people have been affected by violence and disasters around the world. Every day, people affected by a crisis have to make decisions about how to use the skills and resources available to them to best meet their emotional, psychological and spiritual needs.  Often there are not enough pastors, psychologists, doctors or counselors to meet the challenges of accompaniment. In addition, in many parts of the world, especially in Cuba, it is difficult to access services in a meaningful way due to distance, financial means and time available. More needs to be done to support and equip leaders who are already providing vital help in their own communities and cultures but lack the formation and practice in trauma-informed support. This July we are planning to launch a pilot project in Cuba, called Expressive Arts in Transition (EXIT) that will provide capacity, confidence and community support for over-extended care providers who come alongside others in situations of crisis.

Survivors of trauma are constantly looking for a sense of home and security outside of themselves. The EXIT program places attention on finding this sense of home internally in the physical body.  Based on resilience and growth,  the EXIT program started in Norway and is based on longitudinal studies with unaccompanied minors and war refugees from the Balkans. It is an early intervention model, using the expressive arts in trauma-informed ways to provide psychosocial and spiritual support in response to individual and community crisis and transition.  My co-facilitator, Shabrae Jackson and I both received our EXIT training and certification from its founder, Dr. Melinda Ashley Meyer DeMott.  We hope to train and certify Spanish speaking faith leaders, social service providers and peace builders in the EXIT model so that they can train others in their communities to provide accessible and needed psycho-social-spiritual support for trauma recovery.   It will be the first time this internationally recognized program will be offered in Latin America.

Through play, movement and the arts, we will create a space where people can imagine new possibilities and community practices of connection and healing.  We will focus on building hope for the future through practices of spontaneity, movement, imagination, commitment, connection, the here and now and both personal and collective responsibility.  This project will offer access to practical, arts-based accompaniment skills for faith leaders, community organizers, peace builders, social service providers, health professionals, and university professors from every province of Cuba. The 6-day

intensive training will include community meals, daily group-building, sessions of experiential learning, artmaking, body-based grounding and flexibility exercises, and spiritual reflection as individuals and groups.It is our hope and vision to create a Latin American EXIT (Expressive Arts in Transition) team in the next two years of  Latin American leaders who will become trainers of trainers, providing contextual formation for a cadre of expressive arts accompaniers. With learnings from this pilot project, we hope to expand this training to many other Spanish speaking countries.

Access to innovative educational opportunities like this program is beyond the financial capacity of most Cuban citizens where average monthly income does not exceed $150. I am praying and planning to secure funding to provide the week’s room and board ($240 per person) for all participants, making accessible a training opportunity that would not normally be financially feasible for the participants. I’ve already received gifts to cover 4 participants’ food and housing costs. We need 11 more now. Would you consider giving something to make this training possible? I created an original glass art piece measuring 8”X10” to be a reminder of the community effort to support this unique gathering. All gifts of $50+ given to the Cuba pilot project between June 1 – August 1, 2023, will be entered into a raffle to win the art. Until the project is posted on IM’s website, all donations can be made by checks to International Ministries, noting Mylinda Baits Specifics Cuba project or by calling Julie to process your card at donor services 610-768-2314.

A million thanks for caring for this creative as I strive to care for other carers. You make all of the difference.

A Springtime Reminder of Hope

Six months ago I wrote about planting bulbs as an act of hope. https://www.internationalministries.org/an-act-of-hope/

In early March, after walking my living labyrinth planted with three kinds of bulbs, these words came to me:

Barefoot, cold penetrating the soles of my feet, I walk gingerly on the path formed by wooden rounds, circling slowly towards the center where I’ll sit for a minute or so. Each day, a new green sprout reaches upward, a bit too slowly for my taste. I want to see more progress, a bloom, and evidence of life. Yet, the slow growth grounds me in a way. I am held in patient pause, forced to look for the small, incremental shifts that escape my gaze when I’m in a hurry. With each step I notice the clutter of fallen leaves slowly decomposing, tree limbs tossed onto the path by winds of the night, footprints of deer passing through. I try not to be annoyed, the constant maintenance of the perfect path is wearying. I fight the urge to declutter, moving forward, noticing, naming, but refusing to stay stuck. Hugging the curves, tender green shoots of the bulbs I planted are emerging with the promise of more. I smile remembering how shriveled and dead looking they were in the Fall. Now they are changing, transformed by some miraculous organic process that I barely understand. I see the signs, glimpses of life, they draw me further in. I am captivated, caught, coerced to keep moving, slowly, one step at a time. The mystery of what is coming, the colors that will eventually emerge, the hope of beauty on the brink of bursting open. I can’t wait, but I must. There is a mix of bulbs planted. I arrive at the center, surrounded by daffodils, not yet blooming, but easy to imagine their yellow heads soon popping out from their green hoodies. The hyacinths are forming in the fractal way they do, to line the straight paths towards and away from the center. The surprises that await me most are the irises that line the edges of each concentric circle leading to the center. I found them on the side of the road, generously offered by a kind stranger. Ten bags overflowing with random rhizomes waiting to be planted, tended and then welcomed in all of their glory. I won’t know for a while what exactly they will look like. Until then, I’ll walk, I’ll wait, I’ll hope. 

Now it’s April of 2023. As the rains continue to fall in between moments of sunshine and a warming wind, I see signs of life unfolding. This living labyrinth that I planted last October has survived the six month mole burrowing, deer munching challenges of its natural canvas. The wooden rounds are a bit wonky, but the path is still clear. The clover planted in the Fall is patchy and interspersed with volunteer unknown forest “weeds” that seem to grow unaided this time of year. I’ve decided to wait and see what comes as the sunshine and growth increase. This experiment of mine has taught me a few lessons about waiting and continues to spark my curiosity with each new contemplative wander. I wonder if I should plant more early bloomers in between the irises so there are flowers blooming around the path all season long or if it is enough to know that more blooms are coming, thus embracing the wait. I wonder if the deer will leave the iris flowers to bloom since they’ve already munched on the greens. I wonder if there will be enough for all of us. Enough nibbles and enough beauty for both? I know there are no guarantees, and yet I’ll choose to hope. I am learning to notice the small shifts both on and in the path and in me. I am learning to love what comes without trying to control the outcome. I am learning to appreciate the slow ripening of time, the shifting soundscape of migrating birdsong, and the surprising encouragement of uncertain survival. I can’t wait to see, smell and feel the glory in the round, in full blooming, brilliant color. Yet, I must. When it finally comes, I’ll be ready. I’d love you to come by for a wander and a welcome, but if you can’t, I’ll share some pics soon.

Gratefully yours on the Way,

Mylinda