I remember thinking that people's worlds must all be slightly different from each other, depending on who they were and where they were. I remember thinking that each person had their own separate world, and it almost made me dizzy.
Do you ever see a face, and wonder what story they have to tell? Whenever, someone comes to see me, this is usually the first thing I wonder. Who is this person? How do they see themselves? How did they get here? I am struck by the uniqueness that emerges, and while there may be similar themes, no person's story is ever the same.
My love of playing with sand really began when I was a child. Every summer we would buy a family train ticket, and journey each day down to Weymouth's sandy expanse. Here we would mix water and sand in a bucket, plop it out on the beach, where it would magically transform into a mighty castle.
I was introduced to sand tray therapy as a counselling student, and I vividly recall myself and a colleague creating this complex narrative out of nothing more than a pile of sand, and a collection of objects. What I really like is the extra dimension it brings to therapy, not only for children, but also adults.