Healing, Trauma, Trauma recovery

From Hurting to Healing

Life has a way of hurting. The unhealed pain of other people impacts our very existence. Nature, despite human taming and because it, will have its own way. No one lives then without wounds whether buried, forgotten, open, mending, or scars. Two truths:

Every human being hurts.

Every human being can heal.

If we all hurt, then why does the ongoing pain of others so often go unnoticed? And when we do notice why do we tend to stand, literally and metaphorically, an arm’s length away (if not more)? Distancing ourselves while also adding commentary as if their pain is an abstraction? Secretly relieved it is not us.

Because a distinct symptom of human unhealed pain from traumatic experiences of any size, duration, and intensity is disconnection. In disconnection, our relationship with ourselves, others, the world, and the Divine is disrupted. This chasm causes us to struggle with experiencing our own emotions, empathizing with and having compassion for others, and the Divine seems to vanish.

Disconnection, also called dissociation, is not a conscious choice. Often this separation from self and others is a lifesaving one. It is our wonderfully made bodies working to protect us from harm during an fear filled event. Yet if left unattended disconnection causes us and others further suffering.

Research tells us that the prevalence of unhealed pain from traumatic experiences in the United States is estimated to be 60 to 67% of the population.[1] In other words, more of us suffer from the unhealed pain of traumatic experiences than do not. The immensity and commonality of our suffering then demands that the act of ongoing healing be included in our thinking, meditations, prayers, and subsequent actions as a basic need for all humankind. That means you as well as me.

Let’s be clear: Healing takes courage, work, resources, healers, and time. The work of healing earns its worth however in the reconnection our minds to our bodies, hearts, and souls. Our true selves and our common humanity are uncovered and embraced so that we see once again or for the first time the pain of others. Reconnection then creates the space within us to accompany others–friend, family member, stranger–toward healing as our empathy grows and shifts into action. This action is called compassion.

Our healing then is the beginning. Our accompaniment of others, the mission we are called into as human beings on a spiritual journey with the Divine.


[1] https://www.cdc.gov/washington/testimony/2019/t20190711.htm

Image by Luda Kot from Pixabay

Healing meditation, Trauma recovery

Trembling: A Healing Practice

Then the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations also of the mountains trembled
and quaked…” Psalm 18: 7

A Practice

Lie down. Pick a point within your body where you feel pain, discomfort, or crap. Close your eyes. Breathe in for five counts filling up your lungs from bottom to top. Send your breath into your pain. Surrounding it. Now breathe out for five counts. Sending some of your pain into God or the universe. Notice you may tremble on the exhale. Allow tremblings their say. Repeat for as long as you receive comfort in doing this kind of breathing. Then breathe in again. Breathe out. Speak these words (or words like it) to your pain:

Pain, agitation, anxiety, whatever your name is, I walk toward you. Because if I walk toward you, you cannot control me. If I walk away, you dominate my body. So I move toward you. With my breath. Breath receiving the emotions you hold captive. I walk toward you naming my emotions as holy.

A Prayer

God, creator of all human emotions, hold me. Assure me of healthy relief. Coming soon. Already traveling toward me. Send courage in my waiting, my trembling, my healing. Amen.

___________________________________________________________________________

A Note from Jennifer: You may opt in or opt out of any practice at any time. Not every practice is for every body.

Image by Laura Otýpková from Pixabay

Healing, Trauma recovery

Healing as Living

Healing, mine, and my sons, occupies my thoughts most days. What we need. Which modalities works best. Finding new or additional healing ways. Reading another book on trauma recovery or Lyme Disease. Going to therapy. Doing the work–both at home and in the therapy office. Paying the bills.

But I tire of this work being the focus of our family’s life both individually and collectively. As if healing is the only thing that binds us together. I yearn to focus on living. Or what I think living is. Healing seems like the past, living more like the now and future. Yes, we all need to do more healing. I have written elsewhere that the world and its people keep hurting and therefore healing is ongoing. Yet I seem to seek something more, not sure what though. Just know I’ve spent eight years focused on healing first. And I wonder if my focus is sustainable over time.

Yet as I think about it, I am not ready to step away from healing’s many ways. And my unreadiness is not about a lack of courage or living. It is about who I have discovered I am these past eight years. And who I am is someone who in my sensitivity to the world needs places, spaces, and people to work through how life impacts me. I also want to continue peeling away the layers of pain stacked up within me. The ones masquerading as personality and temperament and dictating who am I.

In healing, I find myself in new and fascinating ways. And these incremental discoveries bring me joy! So, what I am really discovering is that healing is life’s nourishment not just its balm. An ongoing focus reminding me of the sentence I composed in magnetic words soon after Tony died. The one staring at us from its place on the refrigerator.

“You can do this life well.”

years later adding a few more words:

“You can do this life well only in ongoing healing.”

Living, for me, is doing this life well through healing.

Image by Tiyo Prasetyo from Pixabay