“Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness…” Carl Jung
Recently a colleague and I were talking about the sobering pandemic and how people are responding in various ways. We were intrigued by a quote written by a motivational coach who said the way to respond or help people is to push past the trauma and rise above. Although culturally for America this is an accepted way and commonly used as words of encouragement, inspiration and praise, oftentimes we underestimate the psychological value of holding together two very powerful and needed emotions: happy and sad, which at times, are linked with life and death. Many people try to separate these two feelings. I’d like to challenge you to hold the two together, not push past the trauma, but rather allow the flow of gut-wrenching trauma right alongside of courage and hope and healing.
When I think of life and death, happy and sad, trauma and healing, I’m reminded of one of my favorite places to be – the garden. In my own NW Ohio gardens, I’ve tilled, deadheaded, watered, planted and watched a dying shrub or flower that I simply couldn’t save. I’m intrigued by the resilience of nature and reminded of life and death in forest fires. There are some flowers, grasses and trees who either bloom, grow or germinate after a forest fire: Fireweed - known for its rapid growth in the northern hemisphere (also called “bombweed” during WWII); Mallow - a Hollyhock in northern California; or the Lodgepole Pine- whose thick cones hold seeds for years then release the embryos after the sealed scales are melted by the heat of the fire. These are just a few of many types of life that appear in the saddest of times. As their counterparts and kin die in blazing flames and heat, these ancient bringers of hope rise to the occasion of continued life. But, notice they do not bring life prematurely. In other words, the flowers innately know they cannot bloom during the fire. They cannot control the fire. They do not have mastery over the fire. It’s almost as if they honor the tragedy and allow others to attempt their efforts (e.g. rain, man-made help) to put out the fire. What if we humans modeled that? What would it look like? One way is trauma and shadow work.
Trauma and Shadow work isn’t about a quick fix-it fad focused on reframing solutions and downloading temporary tapping or breathing techniques. It’s not the ornamental grass in the garden that is pruned and watered but never excavated or divided in some way. Rather, shadow and trauma work is about the rare flower or pine cone who thrives in the scorched forest – she’s been through hell, and her resiliency and healing is doing the deep therapeutic work along with the practices of deep breathing, stretching, running, walking, eating healthy, massage, acupuncture meditation, prayer, reiki, and the helpful list continues. These valuable self-care practices with therapeutic reprocessing help to gain awareness and insight that it is her own oxygen that sometimes unconsciously smothers herself time and time again when life’s traumas appear.
It is the intuitive calling of the psychotherapist to invite depth and reflection together with the client’s stored memories in mind and body. In turn, this can provoke the sympathetic nervous system (fight, flight, freeze, submit or cry defense mechanisms with the release of Cortisol, a stress hormone throughout the bloodstream) and the parasympathetic nervous system (relaxation, digestion and regeneration). By honoring the dynamic function of the vagal nerve (in short this incredible nerve balances the nervous system), this helps to restore and create mind-body harmony. So, like the desolate forest, struggling to determine if life is worth living, calmness and peace greet suffering – never forgetting the depth of the trauma, yet healing the trauma itself - which creates an environment for new life.
Once the forest is germinating, growing and thriving, listen for the melodious birds – their calls of attraction and chants of pure joy. Do you hear their song? Try to pay attention to their pitch and tempo. So inspiring, so clear and uplifting. Yet, as you listen, it would be wise to understand their sounds can also be a stinging reminder of the anguished cries of the husband who through this pandemic cannot kneel by his wife as she dies, or the mother who cannot hold her child who gasps for air, or the nurses and doctors who on their day off from a 3-week stretch, lay in bed, crying – not for themselves, but for their patients.
May you honor the ebb and flow of happy and sad; light and dark, and learn to blend them and surrender to them with an aware and open heart. May we continue to bring light to our shadow self and healing to our traumatized self. May we rise and fall and live and die, each day cultivating the fruitful gardens in our souls, raising our energetic vibrations for a healthier and safer earth. Continued peace to you always!