An Irish SEP in Palestine (part 2)

By Karen Garvin (Counsellor, Psychotherapist and SEP)

My second visit in October 2025 was an intensive lesson in cultural dynamics and power imbalances. I returned on invitation to help complete the space and support staff to begin the therapeutic work. Being there alongside local staff showed me that an attuned, compassionate presence is universally understood. While many residents and most staff speak perfect English, it is of course not their first language, so prioritising a local therapist was essential.

The Palestinian Clinical Psychologist is doing deeply meaningful work with children and their families in very challenging circumstances. Supporting her is essential, and to do this responsibly, I undertook additional ethics training, ongoing specific supervision, and culturally sensitive training. I am always conscious of the need for cultural sensitivity, and of not imposing rigid ideas of “Western therapy.” At the same time, I came to see that even this framing requires deeper reflection. The reality is far more complex: experiences are shaped by intersectionality and cannot be reduced to a single identity. For example, a Christian Palestinian living in Jerusalem will have a very different intergenerational experience from a Muslim Palestinian internally displaced during the Nakba and still living in a refugee camp-yet both live under occupation. I am still learning and listening.

On this trip I noticed systemic helplessness at points, and I was curious about generations of habitual dependence on NGO funding. In the face of so much need, it can be easy to say yes to everything, become over-responsible and inadvertently take over, adding to systemic disempowerment. Equally, I have learned that stepping all the way back can be experienced as abandonment and panic. Knowing when to step out and when to step in is an ongoing learning, and over time this has developed into a collaborative project.

The new space is a real wow factor in the centre. Aida Camp artist Abdallah Hamad painted a beautiful mural on the wall, inspired by a visit to a very special 5,000-year-old olive tree in the village of Al-Walaja and attending the olive harvest a few days prior. The room is quiet and peaceful and has become a haven quite quickly. The importance of setting the conditions has proved such a simple but effective container. In a context where survival and vigilance dominate daily life, the impact of creating conditions that support settling, privacy and orientation should not be underestimated. An incredible young Palestinian Clinical Psychologist Ahlam has now been hired. She is very proud to be associated with the project.

In its first few days, I was invited into assessments with parents while I was there. While there was an obvious language barrier, I was asked to be present to support staff I knew well in their first assessments. Often noticing that as I provided answers when asked by the staff member carrying out the assessment, the parent was often nodding in agreement with me. This made us laugh so many times.

I only have and understand a little Arabic, but replied with “schway/schway” (gently/soft) when I was asked what to do for clients became upset or angry when talking about issues at home. We experimented with resources in the room, such as pulling a rope cushion and doing some breathing exercises, or giving space when someone cried. The mothers left smiling kissing everyone…and one turned up the next morning asking to meet that day again. This re-enforced for me the value of presence-based work with the nervous system that does not rely entirely on verbal language.

The project is in great demand and individual sessions are fully subscribed.  The context of speaking about family issues, financial issues and issues with children in a group setting and the accompanied individualised shame should not be ignored. There is an intersectionality of experiences and lifestyles within the same camp.

I would not have been able to make this trip without having done my own SE training. I noticed a significant difference in my own capacity between the first and second visit. The preparation and resourcing I was able to do influences the project in terms of noticing how camp life impacts me and being curious about providing resources that might support service users. This meant a move away from talk therapy or clinical assessment in parent sessions and towards creative sessions together, both individually and in groups.

On invitation I participated in the interview process for the Psychologist, and since she started I meet her online most weeks for a few hours as a support. As the sole therapeutic clinician with no other therapeutic colleagues in a pilot project, she has a lot to hold. In the past 6 months, the project has developed a ten-week programme that involves assessment, parental support work, play therapy with children, and individual and group creative sessions with parents. It centres around the SE concept of orienting towards the counter vortex and not the enormous Trauma experiences clients present with.

I prepare differently for our online sessions, as I can often meet intense activation in the form of fear, panic, anger and distress during network meetings with wider centre staff. It can feel like being on a boat through a storm sometimes, and often I am the only one on steady ground. Change and discussion can sometimes be interpreted as threat, and induce intense activation, staying with this has been a significant learning experience for me. I often notice my own response, check out of what’s going on online, orient to the room around me, track sensations, move, stretch my ankles and settle until I have enough capacity to support co-regulation. I have learned that interjecting gently and then speaking slowly can help pace the conversation and support a return to a less panicked state. It sounds small but I have a particular hand cream that I first used during my training in Corrymeela and would smell it while sitting in that beautiful room where I learned my body was a safe place to be, listening to Linda’s soothing voice. I bring this with me to Aida and to my network meetings with the centre leaders, about things I know will be hard. Something about it helps me return to my body and a feeling of looseness again or safety.

I am so curious about the adhan (call to prayer) also from an SE perspective. I noticed that stopping to slow down and connect in with oneself every 4 hours day and night is definitely doing something to support regulation. Sometimes I played a recording I made at 4am one night which was probably the most peaceful I have ever felt.  

I also noticed that one little boy kept large pieces of cotton wool in his ears throughout the weeks of bombing earlier this year.

Supporting someone in an active war zone is obviously unpredictable, and maintaining ethical standards and boundaries requires constant revisiting and ongoing exploration. Oversight is crucial. I brought this work into my clinical supervision training as a case study on many occasions, in particular around ethics and cross-cultural practice. I changed my insurance, formalised and clarified my supervisory and clinical input role with the centre, staff and through my supervisor at home. Through my supervision training I realised we had moved from what was essentially a professional sharing of experiences into what is now a professional therapeutic service in another country that I support from here. That shift required much greater attention to boundaries, accountability and ethical responsibility. Attending to my own code of ethics requires ongoing reflection. It was incredibly difficult to navigate these boundaries at times for everyone involved, but it has provided a safer container.

Note to SEP readers: The examples below are composites drawn from my time in Palestine and have been adapted to protect anonymity while illustrating aspects of Somatic Experiencing practice within the project. During my own time there, I became increasingly aware of the importance of pacing and orientation, and how different this was from the pace of life in the camp. Children wander freely in and out of the centre, which sits in the middle of the camp where they live.

One day I was sitting in the room with music playing, the oil burner lit and the orange salt lamp on when a child entered. I knew him as he was due to attend the project with the new psychologist, so I was aware of some of his developmental history. He had been described as having difficulty connecting externally and concentrate in school. I did not address him directly as I had already seen him run away several times that week. A teacher entering the room, someone spoke directly to him, or a louder interaction resulted in flight. He had also approached the room earlier in the week and fled when I was too enthusiastic welcoming him. He approached again this day and slowly moved towards the lamp next to me. I was slower in my invitation, and he oriented with delight through mirroring my actions, touching the warm salt lamp, smelling oils and pointing to the ones we liked. As long as the pace remained slow and titrated, he made occasional eye contact and smiled. At one point, excited by the connection, I tipped his hand with my finger to emphasise my compliments of “Brava” and “Mumtaz”. He immediately recoiled and pulled his arms back into his body. I sat back and placed a hand on my own chest to say sorry. I did not know the Arabic word for sorry, so I apologised in English while sitting quietly. I learned the Arabic phrase “Ana Aasif” afterwards. He watched me, and I bowed my head and said sorry and he stayed, reorganised and then came forward again to the lamp and sharing the smelling of the oils. It was the quietest, slowest interaction, but that moment taught me more about titration, safety and pacing than anything else I have encountered in my client work. This little boy later attended the project with the Psychologist so I got his updates, and I was struck by how much he adapted when he was afforded an attuned adult presence, co-regulation and play. I hear he has made friends and has become something of a classical music fan.

It is also hard not to prioritise the clinician’s personal process when the trauma that happens also happens to them. In February, rockets shook the centre building during the latest escalation. We were online on Zoom at the time, and the person I was speaking with ran from the building terrified, her phone still connected. At some point the call cut off. I was horrified, but obviously I was in no danger myself. I did not know if she had survived. Afterwards I walked around my own house shocked, feeling utterly overwhelmed and unsure who to talk to about what was happening. Later that evening we reconnected. I was able to ground myself and offer some co-regulation. Once the person had resolved the dilemma of whether or not to return to work, and to the basement she feared would become her grave, our focus became supporting her while she was there. I felt utterly ridiculous in my suggestions, which included playing relaxing music, lighting an oil burner, turning off the strip lighting and switching on a salt lamp and table lamp. I had brought these items on my previous trip, and they had remained in the room unused. We did this together online and then she simply sat in the space for a while noticing. I also suggested engaging in her work with children, not as an intervention for the child but as a form of play and self-soothing and regulation for herself. She later reported that staff had come looking for her during further bombing but that she had not heard it. She was relieved to not have heard it. She now puts music on all the time and I often receive videos of the artwork with children with classical music playing in the background. It appears to provide a little relief. (Permission asked to share this). Maybe this space has become a counter-vortex in the camp.

Amongst staff, psychoeducation around the idea that we have a nervous system and that we can feel better or worse through our sensory experiences has sparked curiosity and been universally welcomed. Conditions are now set for events with this in mind when working with mothers. Creating spaces and pleasant experiences has become a significant part of the project and is something relatively new in an environment where survival often takes centre stage under active occupation.

The psychologist who now leads the project incorporates these principles of setting the conditions, slowing down, tending to resonance in sessions, counter vortex, activation and deactivation, titration and including herself.

I continue to engage with Samira, Ahlam and the staff through collaboration and support. I actively engage in seeking feedback, and my own experience over time, has shown me that this support is not only welcome but can help sustain motivation and hope for those living under persistent and ongoing trauma.

I will return again in 2026, hopefully for longer this time. Plans are underway to hire a second therapist, specifically a play therapist, to help meet demand, as well as a community development worker to facilitate group and staff support events.

This practical form of active witnessing and solidarity is welcome, and it remains essential in supporting local initiatives in Palestine. Palestinian people do not need others to do things for them, but they do want people to do things with them. The project is a collaborative effort. I have grown so much too. Rupture, repair & Connection expands capacity. Our capacity to witness & support, the community's capacity to support itself through organisations and hopefully the project's capacity to grow.

Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine.