(photo I took in Pompeii of an angel frescoed into eternity)
One of the people in the Embodied Practices sent me the following note and wasn’t sure that it was “suitable for the blog.” After reading it I was certain it was! I found her experience to be moving and compelling. With her permission I wanted to share it with all of you.
The note I want to make here is how trauma opens up the fault line creating a “slide” into old material. At those times we don’t necessarily have control over the experience. “It” happens to us.
Any practice we do that builds a foundation inside us, that allows us to have enough body/psychic memory of the larger world, of what works, or what is “true” for us (for example, “that this will pass….”) can help hold the shocking trauma reverberations when they come.
Practice allows us to be more present – before, between, and after – the upheaval that comes.
Deirdre I am sending what I’ve written below as I truly wanted to share it with you. I’m not sure if it’s suitable for the blog. It is an account of today, it may sound untrue but it really is what happened.
Today was filled with emotive events. I knew these things were going to happen today and have been trying to prepare selves with breathing, Metta all the learned practices. I thought I’d learned enough to get me through.
How fickle is complacency.
When the overwhelm came I couldn’t control my breathing or shaking. I couldn’t drive and had to pull over.
It was the things I found outside my body that kept me from completely dissociating.
Unexpected but a blessing. The stillness of the curved weather worn branch of a dead tree. The feel of the damp grass. The sound of birds. It was these that whispered Metta to me while my mind and body were too full of despair to even remember how to put the iPod and audios on.
I don’t know how long the internal chaos lasted. I do know that somewhere deep inside me there was the realisation that it could and would pass.
Not all days are like this, there were reasons why.
I am sharing because as the sliding feelings slowed, and my breathing calmed, I began to take the whispers of lovingkindness from the tree, grass, birds and re-ground me. Slowly I could slow my breathing, re-member my parts and tentatively use the practice skills myself.
As I walked back to the car I bent to pick up a white stone, it was the shape of a heart.
Once again I am in awe of the potential of receiving unconditional love from outside myselves. Always in unexpected moments.