What is the knocking?
What is the knocking at the door in the night?
It is somebody who wants to do us harm.
No, no, it is the three strange angels.
Admit them, admit them.⎯D.H. Lawrence
Out of nowhere, a thought, a picture, an unexpected blob of words emerging from your mouth, a wordless body missive—an unexpected situation. Suddenly, something or someone inside shows up that is young, that is wild, perhaps dark and diabolical—reminiscent, ancient. Wise? An enemy? A blessing?
Words come and go. The feelings, however, can be a presence, lodged beneath the layers and shrapnel of trauma. They are earthquakes in the skin, organs, and bones.
Situations in life can be unforeseen. They are obstacles or gifts in a life filled with unknowns. But the presence of the intruder or protector inside is another matter. You might not even understand how it can wreak such havoc. Therapists might give a name to this part inside the self: little one, rebel, protector, perpetrator, parent, sibling—an internal program that runs your life from the past.
Sometimes these parts are named and fully formed. They may be a different gender, age, or disposition. Sometimes they are embryonic, isolated, or desperate. They can be a fluid mass of raw terror, a sexual avalanche of feeling, a flood of confusing signals that makes no cognitive sense and can overwhelm your senses. They are embedded in the memories stored in your cells, on your skin, in your soul—and may dictate how you behave and the decisions you make.
You—or a part of you—might use work, addictions, porn, exercise, food, sex, or relationships that have never fed your heart or soul, to cope. Perhaps these have kept you alive, blew up your life for decades, even tried to eliminate you altogether, just to cope with the pain.
But these parts, especially those wordless fragments from your earliest moments, are often the ones that fight to remain in control. Some can run amuck, like indulged children who need boundaries before they grow into the fullness of maturity. Yet the rascals may have been trying to tell something important.
In fact perhaps these difficult "angels" might even help you heal.
Three strange angels, knocking at the door, in the middle of the night or the afternoon, at a funeral or a wedding, in your deepest place inside...
What happens if you invite them in? Is it possible for them to reveal a truth that you—and they— have always known somewhere, and somehow? Could you imagine what it would mean to truly be a family inside, with all parts respected, protected, working together, instead of fighting to control or sabotage?
It is not easy or perhaps not even safe to bring them forward alone. But then, as you hear from me again and again—one cannot manage the challenges of life by yourself. You grapple with the events, the politics, the history you carry, and the future ahead. But deep attuned therapy can bring truth and the bigger picture, as well as a safe and authentic community, as committed to recovery as you are, who can help weather the storm inside.
The experiment and gift here is discovering with some compassion for yourself that these parts may have brought you to where you are today, and a path to heal.
That is no small thing.
Imagine allowing some of the difficult demons on the boat. They still may carry the seeds of survival, and a message from the past that can help you now. Consider how you might bring some of them forward to be seen by those you trust in your life that stand with you in times of struggle.
Then you realize that recovery is never just about you. You can help others with the vulnerability, care, and power you bring to the relationship. The way you know you are healing is when you are as interested in others' wellbeing as you are to yourself, making a distinction between those who are truly toxic or harmful, and those who deserve to be seen and supported with honest kindness.
This is a challenge, especially in relationships with family or in some of the communities you may inhabit. But recovery can also be a kind of activism in its deepest sense, when you share your truths, making this world—and you—better.
Three strange angels... peeking through the door.
(when it's safe)
Admit them. Admit them.