Friday, December 2, 2022

A Prayer: Candlemas

Photo by Molly
Candlemas

May our eyes remain open even in the face of tragedy.
May we not become disheartened.
May we find in the dissolution
of our apathy and denial,
the cup of the broken heart.
May we discover the gift of the fire burning
in the inner chamber of our being...
burning great and bright enough
to transform any poison.
May we offer the power of our sorrow to the service
of something greater than ourselves.
May our guilt not rise up to form
yet another defensive wall.
May the suffering purify and not paralyze us.
May we endure; may sorrow bond us and not separate us.
May we realize the greatness of our sorrow
and not run from its touch or its flame.
May clarity be our ally and wisdom our support.
May our wrath be cleansing, cutting through
the confusion of denial and greed.
May we not be afraid to see or speak our truth.
May the bleakness of the wasteland be dispelled.
May the soul’s journey be revealed
and the true hunger fed.
May we be forgiven for what we have forgotten
and blessed with the remembrance of who we really are.

...The Terma Collective
 

Our True Nature

Photo by Molly

Our true nature

is a beautiful jewel

in a lotus flower

floating on a lake

in the center

of our heart.

 

David Bedrick on UnShaming, Vulnerability, and Authenticity

So beautifully, compassionately, and wisely said. 
Thank you, as always, David Bedrick.
💗🙏 Molly
 
Photo by Molly

In the first of the 8 years that I taught for the University of Phoenix, I had several students criticize me in the end of semester teacher evaluation: "He seemed insecure and nervous at the beginning," they wrote.
I tried diligently to overcome my nervousness. I had a vision of a teacher, a leader, who was confident. I believed that being a "strong" teacher was to be less vulnerable (a sexist assumption actually - this kind of vulnerability is often called effeminate or "girlish" when exhibited by men in certain aspects of mainstream culture.)
Not being able to easily rid myself of my insecurities, I decided to be more transparent about myself.
"Does anyone else get nervous when they meet new people or when they first step out to speak in public?" I asked. Almost everyone nodded.
Our shared vulnerability and humanity built a bond of connection and trust, allowing the classes to go much deeper into debate and learning.
I became one of the most valued teachers; in fact, the University gave me more and more courses to teach because of the student evaluations. I taught classes in Clinical Interviewing, Diversity in Social Services, Critical Thinking and Ethics, Addictions and Dependencies, Conflict Resolution, Business Management, Statistics in the Social Sciences and more.
What changed? I never overcame my insecurities and vulnerabilities, but the students changed their perceptions. Instead of critiquing my nervousness on evaluations, they began praising my "authenticity."
It was a great lesson in UnShaming. Shame would have me try to overcome or marginalize all qualities that were criticized. UnShaming would have me own those qualities and bring out the beauty, power, and intelligence in unfolding them even further.
 
— David Bedrick
 
 

Charles Bukowski: Having Lots of Cats Is Good

 

"Having lots of cats is good. If you feel bad, you look at cats and you feel better, because they know everything is just the way it is. Don't have to get nervous about anything. And they know it. They're saviors. The more cats you have, the longer you live. If you have a hundred cats, you will live ten times as long as you have ten. Someday, this will be known and people will have thousands of cats." 
 
 Charles Bukowski
 
*** 
 
Some of our kitties, all rescues, past and present 💗
 
Sophie
Luna
Lily
With Lily a day before her passing
Ron with Lily and Bodhi
My son Matt with Daisy (Lily's mom)

Thursday, December 1, 2022

Reflections on Healing, Resilience, and Grace

Photo by Molly

You know what my heart holds with the deepest gratitude? Of course, the list is endless. What I am addressing here is my profound gratitude for all that supports me and supports us all with growing our capacity to embody love. Love is indeed the greatest medicine. And, sadly, I also notice its absence so pervasively in our culture and beyond which surfaces each and every day in the endless impacts of the many faces of unaddressed trauma.

My heart celebrates, even as it aches, with each new piece to the great mosaic that I am able to connect and which holds us all, all of life. There is such mystery, wonder, beauty, and madness in our world. The curiosity of my spirit, and the depths of the caring within my heart and soul, inspires me to hold onto the sacred thread which leads me deeper and deeper into awakening, consciousness, love.

Not that this is an easy path. It is not. It is not, for instance, easy to recognize, see, feel, and increasingly understand the impact of trauma all around us. And within myself and those I love. But today I get to see, to know, to be aware of more and more of these different mosaic pieces and how they fit together. And that is such a gift. Such a gift. With each new layer of understanding and healing, my capacity to embody compassion and love and the wholeness of my sacred being increases. It's also been a long journey to get to where I am today. And this journey continues. It is lifelong...

For all of the deep sorrows that I am able feel today, which were once out of conscious reach, I would not trade in the fullness of my emotional world, the richness of my life, and the depths of my growing compassion and wisdom and love for anything. It is a myth that there is any such thing as being "comfortably numb." That is but a delusion. A house of cards. I know. I used to live in that numbness, those addictions and distractions, that deeply fractured and disconnected state. 

Decades ago, when I was in the early years of my sobriety, I remember reading somewhere that there would come a day on this path of heart when the richness of a life fully lived would grow stronger than any pull to go back. So true. So true. And it took me many years to cross over that line where going back was simply never to be an option again. There is too much beauty and wonder, laughter and joy, connection and belonging, meaning and purpose, awareness and authenticity, wisdom and truth, and sweetness and love in my life today. There is so very much to be grateful for.

And, yes, there are losses. There are tears. There are years of hard work shedding so many illusions, fears, shame, and obstacles that I had built within myself against love. I had no idea then just how fortified I was. Not a clue. Because I could not have imagined a different way of being in the world. I could not have imagined my life today.

Of course, what I have come to realize along the way is that it was harder work to stay numb, disassociated, unaware. It was more painful to keep the trauma I unknowingly held in the depths of my heart and my body at bay. It just takes so much energy to keep everything down. Carrying the imprint of unaddressed trauma is such a heavy, heavy weight to carry, one that so many of us often don't even know is there. I certainly didn't in years gone by.

And we also have no idea of the unimaginable freedom and profound gifts that come with letting go of years and generations of ancestral and cultural trauma and pain that had been denied and held in secrecy, even from oneself. And at such a tragic price.

The related excerpts below from Gabor Maté's latest book, The Myth of Normal, are an empowering gift — a gift that I am called to share. As we face rather than deny the trauma that we carry as individuals and collectively, within our families and communities, and in our culture and world, we are freed to root into paths of wholeness and love.

May we individually and collectively come to more deeply understand trauma and its impacts and inspire and support one another along the way. May courage, curiosity, compassion, and ever growing consciousness be contagious. This is the journey of transformation and love. This is the journey of healing, resilience, and grace. 🙏🙏

With heartfelt blessings,
Molly


What Trauma Is and What It Does
 
Trauma's imprint is more endemic than we realize. That may seem a puzzling statement, as "trauma" has become something of a catchword in our society. To boot, the word has taken on a number of colloquial valences that confuse and dilute its meaning. A clear and comprehensive reckoning is warranted, especially in the field of health and, since everything is connected, in virtually all other societal domains.
 
The usual conception of trauma conjures up notions of catastrophic events: hurricanes, abuse, egregious neglect, and war. This has the unintended and misleading effect of relegating trauma to the realm of the abnormal, the unusual, the exceptional. If there exists a class of people we call "traumatized," that must mean that most of us are not. Here we miss the mark by a wide margin. Trauma pervades our culture, from personal functioning through social relationships, parenting, education, popular culture, economics, and politics In fact, someone without the marks of trauma would be an outlier in our society. We are closer to the truth when we ask: Where do we each fit on the broad and surprisingly inclusive trauma spectrum? Which of its many marks has each of us carried all (or most) of our lives, and what have the impacts been? And what possibilities would open up were we to become more familiar, even intimate, with them?
 
A more basic question comes first: What is trauma? As I use the word, "trauma" is an inner injury, a lasting rupture or split within the self due to difficult or hurtful events. By this definition, trauma is primarily what happens within someone as a result of the difficult or hurtful events that befall them; it is not the events themselves. "Trauma is not what happens to you but what happens inside you" is how I formulate it. Think of a car accident where someone sustains a concussion: the accident is what happened; the injury is what lasts. Likewise, trauma is a psychic injury, lodged in our nervous system, mind, and body, lasting long past the originating incident(s), triggerable at any moment. It is a constellation of hardships, composed of the wound itself and the residual burdens that our woundedness imposes on our bodies and souls; the unresolved emotions they visit upon us; the coping dynamics they dictate; the tragic or melodramatic or neurotic scripts we unwittingly but inexorably live out; and, not least, the toll these take on our bodies.
 
When a wound doesn't mend on its own, one of two things will happen: it can either remain raw or, more commonly, be replaced by a thick layer of scar tissue. As an open sore, it is an ongoing source of pain and a place where we can be hurt over and over again by even the slightest stimulus. It compels us to be ever vigilant always nursing our wounds, as it were and leaves us limited in our capacity to move flexibly and act confidently lest we be harmed again. The scar is preferable, providing protection and holding tissues together, but it has its drawbacks: it is tight, hard, inflexible, unable to grow, a zone of numbness. The original healthy, alive flesh is not regenerated.
 
Raw wound or scar, unresolved trauma is a constriction of the self, both physical and psychological. It constrains our inborn capacities and generates an enduring distortion of our view of the world and of other people. Trauma, until we work it through, keeps us stuck in the past, robbing us of the present moment's riches, limiting who we can be. By impelling us to suppress hurt and unwanted parts of the psyche, it fragments the self. Until seen and acknowledged, it is also a barrier to growth. In many cases, as in mine, it blights a person's sense of worth, poisons relationships, and undermines appreciation for life itself. Early in childhood it may even interfere with healthy brain development. And, as we will witness, trauma is an antecedent and a contributor to illness of all kinds through the lifespan. 
 
Taken together, these impacts constitute a major foundational impediment to flourishing for many, many people. To quote Peter Levine once more, "Trauma is perhaps the most avoided, ignored, belittled, denied, misunderstood, and untreated cause of human suffering."....
 
Trauma Alienates Us from the Present
 
If trauma entails a disconnection from the self, then it makes sense to say that we are being collectively flooded with influences that both exploit and reinforce trauma.... 
 
Awareness of the moment has become something to fear. Late-stage capitalism is expert in catering to this sense of present-moment dread in fact, much of its success depends on the chasm between us and the resent, our greatest gift, getting ever wider; the false products and artificial distractions of consumer culture designed to fill in the gap....
 
Ultimately, what we are distracted from is living. 
 
The past hijacks and co-opts the present again and again...
 
Trauma Fosters a Shame-Based View of the Self
 
Among the most poisonous consequences of shame is the loss of compassion for oneself. The more seer the trauma, the more total that loss....
 
The negative view of self may not always penetrate conscious awareness and may even masquerade as its opposite: high self-regard. Some people encase themselves in an armored coat of grandiosity and denial of any shortcomings so as not to feel that enervating shame. That self-puffery is as sure a manifestation of self-loathing as is abject self-deprecation, albeit a much more normalized one. It is a marker of our culture's insanity that certain individuals who flee from shame in to shameless narcissism may even achieve great social, economic, and political status and success. Our culture grinds many of the most traumatized into the mud but may also depending on class background, economic resources, race, and other variables raise a few to the highest positions of power....
 
It Didn't Start With You

...Trauma is in most cases multigenerational. The train of transmission goes from parent to child, stretching from the past into the future. We pass onto our offspring what we haven't resolved in ourselves. The home becomes a place where we unwittingly re-create, as I did, scenarios reminiscent of those that wounded us when we were small. "Traumas affect mothers and mothering and fathers and fathering and husbanding and wifeing," the family constellation therapist Mark Wolynn told me. "The repeated traumas continue to proliferate from that as a result that they never get healed." Wolynn is the author of the aptly titled It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle. Trauma may even affect gene activity across generations, as we will see....

Blame becomes a meaningless concept the moment one understands how suffering in a family system or even in a community extends back through generations. "Recognition of this quickly dispels any disposition to see the parent as villain," wrote John Bowlby, the British psychiatrist who showed the decisive importance of the adult-child relationships in shaping the psyche. No matter how far back we look in the chain of consequence great-grandparents, pre-modern ancestors, Adam and Eve, the first single-celled amoeba the accusing finger can find no fixed target. That should come as a relief.

The news gets better: seeing trauma as an internal dynamic grants us much-needed agency. If we treat trauma as an external event, something that happens to or around us, then it becomes a piece of history we can never dislodge. If, on the other hand, trauma is what took place inside us as a result of what happened, in the sense of wounding or disconnection, then healing and reconnection become tangible possibilities. Trying to keep awareness of trauma at bay hobbles our capacity to know ourselves. Conversely, fashioning from it a rock-hard identity whether the attitude is defiance, cynicism, or self-pity is to miss both the point and the opportunity of healing, since by definition trauma represents a distortion and limitation of who we were born to be. Facing it directly without either denial or over-identification becomes a doorway into health and balance.

"It's those adversities that open up our mind and your curiosity to see if there are new ways of doing things," Bessel van der Kolk told me. He then cited Socrates: "An unexamined life is not worth living. As long as one doesn't examine oneself, one is completely subject to whatever one is wired to do, but once you become aware that you have choices, you can exercise those choices." Notice that he didn't say "once you spend decades in therapy." As I will present later, we can access liberation via even modest self-examination: a willingness to question "many of the truths we cling to" and the "certain point of view" that makes them so real as a famous Jedi master's Force ghost told his dispirited young apprentice as a pivotal moment in a galaxy far, far away.
 
Gabor Maté
Excerpts from the first chapter "The Last Place You 
Want to Be" in The Myth of Normal: Trauma, 
Illness, and Healing In a Toxic Culture
 
Please go here for more information:
 

Francis Weller: Grief and Love Are Sisters

Photo by Molly

Grief and Love Are Sisters

The work of the mature person is to carry grief in one hand and gratitude in the other and to be stretched large by them. How much sorrow can I hold? That’s how much gratitude I can give. If I carry only grief, I’ll bend toward cynicism and despair. If I have only gratitude, I’ll become saccharine and won’t develop much compassion for other people’s suffering. Grief keeps the heart fluid and soft, which helps make compassion possible.

Grief is subversive, undermining the quiet agreement to behave and be in control of our emotions. It is an act of protest that declares our refusal to live numb and small. There is something feral about grief, something essentially outside the ordained and sanctioned behaviors of our culture. Because of that, grief is necessary to the vitality of the soul. Contrary to our fears, grief is suffused with life-force.... It is not a state of deadness or emotional flatness. Grief is alive, wild, untamed and cannot be domesticated. It resists the demands to remain passive and still. We move in jangled, unsettled, and riotous ways when grief takes hold of us. It is truly an emotion that rises from the soul.

Grief and love are sisters, woven together from the beginning. Their kinship reminds us that there is no love that does not contain loss and no loss that is not a reminder of the love we carry for what we once held close.

Teacher and grief specialist Stephen Jenkinson says, “Hold your sorrow to a degree of eloquence, whereby everyone around you will be fed by your efforts to do so.” Becoming skillful at digesting our grief makes us a source of reassurance and stability for the wider community.

This beautiful poem by Rashani Réa, “The Unbroken,” offers us a glimpse into what we may find nestled inside our deepest sorrows:
There is a brokenness out of which comes the unbroken, a shatteredness out of which blooms the unshatterable. There is a sorrow beyond all grief which leads to joy and a fragility out of whose depths emerges strength. There is a hollow space too vast for words through which we pass with each loss, out of whose darkness we are sanctified into being. There is a cry deeper than all sound whose serrated edges cut the heart as we break open to the place inside which is unbreakable and whole, while learning to sing. 

― Francis Weller

Excerpts from The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of 
Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief 
 

Rumi: The Guest House

Photo by Molly

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.
 
Rumi 
 

Kahlil Gibran: On Joy and Sorrow

Photo by Molly

On Joy and Sorrow
 
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your
laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper the sorrow carves into your being,
the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup
that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit,
the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into
your heart and you shall find it is only that
which has given you sorrow that is giving joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in
your heart, and you shall see that in truth
you are weeping for that which has been
your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than
sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is
the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits
alone with you at your board, remember
that the other is sleeping upon your bed.
 
Verily you are suspended like scales between 
your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at
standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to
weigh his gold and his silver, needs must
your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
 
Kahlil Gibran
From The Prophet