Our Traumatised World

I have just finished reading this marvel, The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk, and I have hit new depths to my understanding of trauma, not just for the world but so importantly for me too. To say I was triggered would be an understatement, so much rose up in me that felt painful and raw and therefore so necessary to face. More work to be done and more avenues to follow with the wisdom of this work by my side.

It is sensitively and compassionately written, with stories that wrench and illustrate in turn, leading through the vast array of trauma our society is generating and holding and offering a myriad of techniques and therapies that can calm, smooth, release and integrate the disregulation and pain that exists.

There is really too much to say and yet so little without simply repeating, verbatim, the written words but there are certain highlights, important themes (see photos) that are lingering in my consciousness.

I think some of my big takeaways are: how it validated so much of where I see our trauma being played out in society, from the simple, defensive, ready to be offended, response that has become the norm of reactions rather than the warning sign that needs attention; to the research that shows how much more impactful a mother’s depression is compared to a father, because biology matters, innate instinct and early years attachment cannot be overruled by a societal yen; it confirms the knowledge that abusers come from trauma, how it is by facing and healing and supporting that we shift our society not by shaming or judging or blaming.

All of these powerful confirmations actually bring me hope rather than despair, that there are healers out there in this field that really ‘get’ it. Over medicating is running its course and I so hope that means we can move onto this real ability to connect, support and understand.

After all, as Bessel says ‘Communicating fully is the opposite of being traumatised.’

 First published on social media 11th November 2021

Broken

This photograph makes me weep. Where has my beautiful world gone? The one where common sense and common decency prevailed above all the idiosyncratic crazy’s.

There is always chaos, there is always darkness. Life wouldn’t be life without the contrast and the shadow. I have borne witness to and been part of plenty and been so grateful retrospectively for the insight, healing and wisdom it offers.

One day I will feel the same about now, but right now I am crying for the cold, alienating, separating choices that so many, too many, are embracing to protect themselves from an exaggerated fear.

I am crying for all the babies, all the beautiful, wonderful children that are growing up right now thinking life is unsafe and threatening. That are being shown by their mentors and guides to fear their bodies and the bodies of others; to fear each other.

I am crying for the irrevocable harm being caused to all these divine bodies through the mistaken belief that experimental poison could protect them.

This heroic man’s face, lifted to the sun, lifted to the heavens above, being physically forced to mask, to inhibit his very source and energy for control and dictate.

This has broken me today.

May I rise stronger tomorrow to begin again and continue to stand for our freedoms, our breath, our light and our love.

#darkness #chaos #control #masks #freedom #choice #love #light #divine #hope #tears

First Written on Social Media 9 May 2021

The Rockery

My youngest is a do-er. Any task where tools can be utilised, muscles stretched and creative energy unleashed, that’s heaven.

And it welcomes its own journey of negotiation, surrender, guidance and boundaries. Much like most areas of parenting really.

This past week we designed and created a rockery in our garden. Our ideas were not fully aligned. One of the areas of parenting I have struggled with is finding the balance between fully embracing the creative vision of my child, measured against not only my own desires, but actually more the practicality and functionality of these endeavours.

I have learned that leaning fully into their own ideas has so often just led to crushing disappointment as they cannot yet manifest in practical terms. This has its own gifts, and disappointment is not something to shy away from. Counterbalanced by the knowledge that with a little guidance these ideas can create the most glorious of lessons, skills and confidence. The cherry on the top is also respecting my own visions, to model holding my boundaries and not allowing the ego of child to believe themselves too worldly, too early. And then of course there is surrender….

All this in just a few days of moving rocks, planting flowers and scattering stones. All of this everyday as a parent.

When to guide, when to step back and allow, when to stand strong, when to surrender to flow.

These are life lessons for me but the painful edge is that it can feel huge that I am this influencer of principles to real, live humans who are still growing and forming and absorbing it all. The pressure can feel utterly overwhelming until I remember that I’m just human too, that we chose each other from the stars and love is love the world over after all.

So to all you mama’s and papa’s agonising over the most recent battle, the lost moment, the unsaid apology, the what if; I want to offer the words that I comfort myself with.

My work is their work, my lessons are theirs. We are intertwined for this very reason, for this moment in time, for this day of chaos, for this hour of hilarity. All of it is and all of it isn’t. Everything is just as it should be.

Love Hope Faith and Grace.

#parenting #childhood #boundaries #surrender #joy #love #hope #faith #grace #negotiation #guidance #influencer #humans #lessons #asitshouldbe

First Written on Social Media 27 March 2021

The Mist

In the Percy Jackson book series (by Rick Riordan and which I have been reading alongside my daughter) the mortals can’t see all the crazy that happens with the gods, demigods and monsters because of a hazy mist.

The mist distorts their perception of events so that they can remain within their comfortable concept of reality.  Yet again truth seeming stranger than fiction, or perhaps just parallel, when I draw the comparison of this to our current global situation.

Occasionally, in the story, there are a few rare mortals who can look through the screen and are able to see the alternate timeline that is defining the events; indeed one could name it ‘the truth’.

Is that where we are at now in society? Is there a mist that is filtering reality into a more comfortable perception? Is it easier to see that the governments across the world are just bumbling inadequates that aren’t handling a pandemic well than wonder why, with all our expertise in so many fields, this has been mishandled so atrociously? Is it easier to think that there is a deadly virus that is beyond our body’s natural ability to handle than to take true personal responsibility for our well being? Is it easier to defame all uncomfortable opinions as ‘far right’ so that child trafficking and forced medical procedures are just manipulative propaganda rather than horrific realities that need addressing stat?

Is there really such a mist? Am I, and my tribe, blessed or cursed with the gift to see through it? Or are we the one who’s vision is filtered through a smoke screen?

I can only speak for what feels true to me and, without an element of boast, I believe I have a natural truth detector that beeps loudly. It’s not that I always know what the truth is but I generally have a fair sense of when I’m being lied to. I have many classic and retrospectively amusing examples of catching out rogue boyfriends with this inbuilt signal! (For another blog perhaps.) AND mixed in with that is a desire to always feel and believe the best in people, so it’s not as if I’ve never been deceived, but in hindsight my detector has always beeped, though I may have silenced it for the desire to believe in a brighter vision.

My lie detector started sounding in January, at the very beginning of this particular pandemic story. It was actually quite hard to justify my opinion at that point as it was predominantly intuitive, nobody had any real facts, but it was as if I was seeing through the mist with absolute clarity. Ever since, that initial vision has only been confirmed on a daily and monthly basis, I knew CV was not a virus to be afraid of. What I didn’t know was why it was being used to frighten us into submission.

I still don’t have a clear answer to that but I do feel that more layers are being peeled back and more mist is dissolving at a rate of knots. I see that the power lies beyond the puppetry of the governments and in the hands of some disturbed but powerful humans. I can see sociopathy and psychopathy on a far grander scale than I ever believed possible, though with my understanding of early years parenting, I sadly recognise how easily and naively this has been created.

But I think my biggest frustration has to be this god damn mist. How is it that so many are continuing in a narrative that denies these truths? That can swap deaths for cases and continue to drown in fear; controlled, submissive and accepting. Human rights abuses, emergency laws permitted, freedoms stripped, truths censored. Mist. Mist. Mist.

But I will take hope from the tales of Percy Jackson, where is is the few that can truly see that conquer the monsters, despite the general population not even recognising the danger they are in.

To triumph over evil takes a steadfast belief in truth, love and faith and that magical ability to see beyond the intoxicating mist of lies. And there are enough of us that can hold all of that and more as we rise to the challenge of today.

Maverick

This week I watched ‘The Darkest Hour’ with Gary Oldman playing Winston Churchill. One of the core pieces that I loved within this film was how clear it was that Churchill was an emotionally messy individual; by all accounts an alcoholic, perhaps without financial savvy, fractious, demanding AND alongside this a brilliant mind, a wordsmith, family man, and the one who determined to save Great Britain from Adolf Hitler.

He was a maverick: ‘an unorthodox or independent-minded person’

When my brothers and I had to decide which three words we would have on my father’s gravestone, I pushed for Maverick. I can’t even remember now what the other two words are but I knew I wanted a word to honour his fuck-ups and his genius all at once. That is who he was to me.

What I saw from the film was that it took the character of a Maverick to save us from invasion, it took that single minded belief, that ability to walk against the tide, and a little bit of ‘crazy’. I watched the film and I saw my father.

My father did terrible things, he sexually molested me, he paid little attention to the emotional needs of his children, he was frightening in his temper. And he did wonderful things too. He transformed people’s lives both through his psychiatry practice and his generosity in bringing in to his home those in need, including the homeless. He invented psychometric computer programs that are still used globally today (he just forgot to patent them!). His mind was brilliant and broken.

I was not really able to see my father this way until after he died, until then our relationship was just too painful. In watching ‘The Darkest Hour’, I was reminded how important Mavericks are in the world and how an individual can be two parts simultaneously – dark and light.

There is a cleansing going on in our western society right now, where anyone who has ever faltered, made a mistake, royally fucked up or, worst case, been severely abusive is being silenced and shut down. I’ve seen on social media something to the effect of: ‘it doesn’t matter what good they have done, abusive behaviour wipes all of that away’. Does it? Should it?

I just don’t know if life is this back and white, that right and wrong is so clear cut. What if someone can have blurred and damaging boundaries and also create magic in the world? My relationship with my mother is super toxic but she is also a wonderful friend to others. I worked with Jamie Oliver once upon a time and I personally found him difficult (others found him inspiring) but I also hugely respect his drive to change the health of our children through food. My experience of someone can be diametrically opposite to someone else’s. I can also dislike one aspect of someone and appreciate another. One person can experience abuse another healing at the hands of the same person. So how does this tally? How do we bring abusers or fault makers to justice without cleansing our society of the inspiration and necessary change that they sometimes bring?

It makes me wonder how Einstein, Marie Curie, Van Gogh, Michael Angelo, Mother Theresa, Alexander Fleming, Emmeline Pankhurst, Jesus or Mary Magdalene would fair on social media today? Would we celebrate their achievements or chastise them for their failings?

How I reached this place with my father, of being able to respect his achievements whilst not accepting his abuse, was through conversation. Before he died we spoke about my accusation of molestation, he said his mother had done the same to him and there wasn’t anything wrong with that. It wasn’t an apology, it wasn’t really even an admission; soulfully, he still had a long way to go before being accountable to his actions. Yet from that conversation I could understand that he had been taught as a child that this behaviour was ok, that to look at it from my perspective (and indeed much of society’s) was something quite unfathomable to his psyche. He was acting from trauma. I have compassion for that.

And before I am shouted down from the rooftops, yes I still believe abuse must be called to account and appropriately dealt with. But that is the extreme end of our current cleansing and there are multiple shades of grey in between for all the characters and individuals of the world.

I am a flawed and loving person, which part do you see?