Strongheart: Reflections on Finding Freedom From the Multigenerational Stream of Trauma

My paternal grandfather and my great-grandmother, 1890

My paternal grandmother and my father, 1915

My father (on the left) and his brother, 1918

My maternal grandmother (2nd from left) and her siblings, 1905

My maternal grandmother and my mother, 1927

My mother, grandmother, twin brother and myself, 1951

Johnny and Molly, 1953

Jim and myself with our first son Brian, 1979

Jim with his parents and our three sons, 1990

Matthew, Kevin, and Brian, 1993

A Truly Remarkable Journey

What a remarkable journey it is to gradually come to recognize the multigenerational stream of trauma that I've been swept up in and learn how, over time, to be the first out of all those generations to begin to actually find freedom. It is truly extraordinary!

This is not to say that there weren't strengths and gifts and beauty which were also woven through these generations. There were. All I need do is look deeply into the many amazing photographs of our family that I am so incredibly blessed to have. The images pictured above are just a tiny glimpse. And certainly what I see here is the beauty and the preciousness of each child over the course of all these generations.

Still, it is also true that right alongside the preciousness is this other side, one which wasn't talked about, acknowledged, or seen. And what was delegated to the shadows, not to be seen or addressed, cost everyone dearly. No one was spared. Because we are all connected, what affected part also impacted the whole. Sure, some of us looked good, were high achievers, capitalized on capitalism. And, under it all, there was disconnection, tragedy, trauma.

For farther back than anyone can see, our family ― and so many other families, communities, cultures, and nations ― have been caught up in this stream of trauma. Only it is more like a torrent, a fierce rushing river, a tsunami that sweeps us up, pulling us under and crashing us against enormous boulders, and gravely injuring us. Sometimes fatally. And sometimes without our even knowing how injured we are.

As I write today I am reflecting on learning of the suicide of a family member of a dear friend. And my heart breaks. My heart breaks open once again. There are so many causalities of this pervasive stream of trauma. So many who are unable to find a branch to grab onto or any resource that helps them move toward shore where gaining some grounding, some footing, some support for healing all the pain ― pain and suffering that goes back through time and is so very old in its origin ― becomes possible.

So many, too many continue to be swept away. And when we are swept away and trying to survive the tidal wave of unaddressed trauma buried deep within us both individually and collectively, it isn't uncommon to try to grab onto those around us in an effort to save ourselves ― but without any consciousness that we are also pulling them under. Because we do not recognize the stream of trauma. We are not aware of the dangers of the waters in which we swim because it is all that we know, all that our families have ever known, all that our cultures normalize and perpetuate.

And so we grab onto what we can to stay afloat in the trauma stream. It can be those we most love who are also weighted down with trauma. It can be alcohol and any other drug. Addictions can also come in endless forms ― food, shopping, sex, work, exercise, religion, caretaking, TV, the Internet, interpersonal conflict, railing against those damn democrats/republicans, and on and on. There are truly countless ways in which we humans can keep ourselves oblivious, distanced, distracted, and in denial of what we carry in our deepest hearts ― pain that has also been carried through time by our ancestors before being blindly passed down to us.

We do not know that there is a way out of the torrent of torment and suffering. We do not see that a deep dive into and through our pain is the way to the other side ― the other side where we are increasingly liberated from the multi-generational trauma we've been carrying that has its roots in our ancestors going so far back and also in the cultures in which we live.

It was my therapist this morning who gave me the words "multigenerational trauma stream." And I am so grateful.

As yet another layer of individual and collective work has recently been surfacing within our family for attending to and healing, I've been hit with waves of pain once again. They haven't been this strong in some time. I also am aware and honor the places of deep grief that will ebb and flow for me over the course of my lifetime. And I wouldn't give up my abiding connection with my emotional world for anything.

Yes, in the beginning, in the early weeks and months of sobriety, it felt like too much. At times I was overwhelmed with emotion ― with rage, grief, fear, shame. And there was synchronicity, mystery, and grace which somehow enabled me to keep going even when the thawing out process of coming back into my body felt like too much after my then lifetime of disassociation and addiction.

Doug Pullin, my therapist for quite some time now, wisely states, "compassion is what happens in us when love connects deeply with suffering." And this is what I return to again and again ― embracing the sorrows I feel within myself and for our family, for other families and friends, and for our world with compassion, tenderness, and love.

Today I am profoundly blessed with seeing the stream of multigenerational trauma. I can see it in myself and in others. And, with the support of my therapist and other wise and loving souls, I can recognize when the old places arise. I can see how I haven't forgiven myself, how I can shame and blame myself, how I am forgetting the wisdom, compassion, and love which I have long been coming to increasingly embody.

And I don't get swept away for long. Because again and again and again I am returning to my practices of compassion and gratitude. I hold myself ― my child self, the young mother I once was, the times when I've been lost and unskillful and unaware ― and I wrap myself in loving kindness. I connect love deeply with the grief I am experiencing. And, with each year of my life, I am finding greater freedom from the suffering that has haunted and plagued my family for countless, countless generations.

This is a holy, sacred, courageous, grace-filled journey. And I am amazed! Truly amazed to be able to see the trauma stream rather continue to be swept up in it like all of my ancestors before me. I am the first out of all these generations to find the shores where healing has become possible and where trauma, in an ongoing way, is being healed and transformed by compassion, tenderness, and love.

And now, tomorrow, one of my sons and I will begin family therapy together. This is something that I have offered each of my adult children off and on for many years. This is a reflection of my practice of accountability. My parents were never able to join me in therapy and help me heal. But now, here today, all that changes. And continues to change. I can give to my children what my parents were unable to give me. And, so vital, I have been learning how to love myself.

Today there is no more blame. Not of my parents or their parents or their parents' parents. There is no blame for any of my ancestors who were each once precious babies and tender and vulnerable children. And as I continue to integrate my conscious awareness of the mutigenerational stream of trauma, I can look upon myself, my sons' father and his family, and my family and all of my ancestors who have come before me with the eyes of compassion. We've simply and unknowingly been swept up in the stream of trauma.

I am not to blame and I did not cause this stream of trauma. It began long, long before I was ever born. The difference for me, however, is that I have been gifted with the conscious awareness of the multigenerational trauma stream. And, because I can see it, I am accountable. I can do something. I can heal in an ongoing way the ancestral and cultural trauma which has wounded my heart. And as I find liberation, ripples are created which are healing rather than harmful.

And what a truly remarkable journey this is. It is extraordinary to be rooted into this path of heart, this journey of awakening from my delusions and distractions and growing more and more into the sacredness of what it is to be wholly human.

And now, I believe, is the time to both continue to free ourselves and to reach out our hands and hearts to help others, as best as we can, to know that there is a stream of trauma and there is freedom from it. May we all work courageously to claim this freedom. May we more and more deeply know the compassion and truth, peace and joy, belonging and connection, wisdom and love of our hearts. And may more and more join us on this truly remarkable journey.

With heartfelt blessings to us all,

Molly