Bringing the Body Alive- Interview with Jen Mele LCSW by Candace Williams, OTR/L
Candace is an artist, OT, and adaptive dance instructor currently writing a book titled "Bringing the Body Alive", exploring the powerful link between arts participation and improved health outcomes.
Jen Mele is an artist, therapist, group practice owner and consultant with 25 years of mindfulness and contemplative based studies. and 17 years working with clients as they heal creatively.
Candace is gathering insights from artists, therapists, and art participants to add to her book. Here is my interview where I share my journey as well as viewpoints on arts and the healing process. Please see the transcript below.
How to contact Candace:
Candace Williams, OTR/L Owner & Director, Spirit Rising
(347) 642-0936
www.spiritrisingdance.org
Candace: As much as I hate AI, I will be using it just to get a transcript of what we're saying. It's the only acceptable use, as far as I'm concerned. But let's do this.
Jen M.: Yeah, sure. I'm finding it more and more helpful with certain things. It's pretty amazing. Of course, there are pros and cons, but when we can use it right and helpfully, then I'm all for it.
Candace: I have yet to make my peace with it, but I'm getting there.
Jen M.: I hear you. I was the same way. I didn’t even want a smartphone. I waited forever. I didn’t want texting either when it first came out in college. I really value human connection. But of course, there are pros and cons.
Candace: We have to adapt and evolve. That’s true.
Jen M.: Right. In our work, we’re helping people come back into the moment and ground themselves. That’s the only way I can have the bandwidth for everything.
Candace: That’s true—and making things more accessible too.
Jen M.: Exactly. You’ve got a little assistant now, recording for you.
Candace: So I’ve got six questions for you. First, I’d love for you to share a little about your background and how that led you into the career path you chose.
Jen M.: Sure. My background—really, my own childhood and life experiences—led me to be a seeker from a young age. I naturally went into the helping field. I was always interested in science, yoga, meditation. At first, I thought I’d do astronomy or astrophysics, thinking it might answer some of my big questions. But I quickly realized after one class that doing math equations wasn't it for me, at least not then. So I switched to psychology. It fascinated me.
That time was also when I lost access to my artistic abilities. I was into body-based practices like yoga, but I couldn’t fully implement them. I got my master's in 2010, then in 2015 did yoga teacher training. But after that, my body essentially collapsed. I didn’t realize I had so much physical neglect, so much untreated pain. I couldn't stand to teach yoga classes. During COVID, when I wasn’t traveling and was mostly stuck in one room, I realized I was crawling around on the floor. I hadn't even noticed, because it happened gradually.
Eventually, I found practitioners who helped me understand fascia and connective tissue. I learned I had a connective tissue disorder that had become a benign tumor system. I had a tongue tie, two lip ties, a jaw dislocation from birth. I had never stood up straight until I got those releases. Even now, it’s an ongoing journey. But something beautiful happened after yoga training—I started painting. I had never done that before. I used to do rubber stamping and very controlled things. But suddenly, something in me opened up, and I started painting nonstop for two years. Hundreds of paintings.
Then my body physically worsened, and I had to stop. For the past five years, I've been trying to reconnect to that creativity I physically couldn't sustain. Through it, I learned to help others with body-based practices. After doing therapy, DBT, internal family systems, and trauma-informed approaches, I became more interested in intuitive and expressive art. I now paint with clients, using intuitive techniques, working through discomfort with colors or mistakes. It's about listening to your next intuition. I love doing group work, teaching, and focusing my energy.
I’ve recently hired a team of therapists who are embracing creative therapy. My practice is shifting into something that aligns with my authentic self. I've always been a teacher and speaker. I can't keep repeating the same things all week, so group work makes sense.
Candace: That was great. I loved hearing about how you found painting. It’s such a beautiful, layered path. I saw in your bio that you graduated from BU with a psychology major and a focus in mindfulness?
Jen M.: Yes. I took several mindfulness classes. I even did an online course at Naropa University—it was beautiful. I was always learning about science too. I took a cosmic evolution course that connected multiple sciences. I also took Buddhism, psychopathology, and even a course called Stalking the Wild Mind on extrasensory perception. It doesn't exist at BU anymore, but it was so powerful. My brain has always worked to interconnect things.
As I learned, I realized I was learning about myself. I’d read about an anxiety disorder and realize, “Wait, that’s me.” I leaned into that. I chose internships focused on mindfulness. I found the DBT Center of New Jersey and learned skills I still use today. At the same time, I began to see how some models still treat the client as "other." Because of my past, I connect with a lot of people. Unfortunately, I experienced a lot of pain and trauma. Multiple areas of functioning were impacted. Helping others became my way of helping myself—but my physical condition blocked progress. My nervous system and connective tissue were literally nailed down.
Now I need surgeries to remove growths from my head. It’s been a long journey of learning through experience. I'm honest with clients about it. I think that honesty and authenticity help my practice. I’ve never worn shoes—or probably even socks—to a session in my life.
Candace: And nobody else can do it like you.
Jen M.: Right? Be yourself—everyone else is taken.
Candace: One of my callings is to bring art into academia, especially medical professions. Was there any discussion of integrating the arts in your undergrad or grad programs as a social worker?
Jen M.: Never. And trauma wasn’t taught either. I went to Rutgers and graduated in 2010. I went back to teach in 2015, and even then, trauma wasn’t being taught. None of the students had been exposed to it, and they were about to graduate. It's disappointing how much academia avoids it.
Even now, a school I supervise through didn’t have trauma-informed care listed in their paperwork. I had to ask them to include it. It's 2025. We’re still behind.
That’s why what you’re doing—bringing creativity into the field—is so important. It’s part of decolonizing healing. Therapy isn’t just talking in a box. It’s expression, connection, integration.
Even though I didn’t go to school for art therapy, art emerged naturally when my body felt safe. It became my most powerful healing tool—and something I now share with others. Some clients say, “I can’t paint,” and then the most amazing art comes out. I cry every time. That’s why I do this work.
Candace: That’s beautiful.
Jen M.: Yeah.
Candace: It’s affirming, because I’m on a similar journey. Pain and illness brought me back to painting, too.
Jen M.: Wow. I feel that. It’s the thing that breaks you that also opens you.
Candace: Yep. Absolutely.
Jen M.: Yeah.
Candace: One final question. If you could go back and give your younger self advice as a creative and a healer, what would it be?
Jen M.: That’s such a beautiful question. I’d say: There’s nothing wrong with you. There never was. You don’t have to try so hard to be good, or worthy, or lovable. Your essence is already whole. Even when it feels dark, the light will return.
Candace: That’s beautiful. Thank you so much, Jen.
Jen M.: Thank you.