Founder's Blog • 5/31

IT

IT has no name.

IT whispers without words.

IT carries the earthquakes and the stormy thoughts of the past, in the times we are presently in.

IT is rage and fear, violence and disgust.

IT hurts so much.

Look at the events we have just witnessed and experienced over the past few weeks and

months. We are touching into IT by how we respond -- good, bad, and otherwise. Hapless

rage, raging fear, fearful powerlessness. We become hyper-vigilant or flooded, running

toward or running away from the danger and the violence we witness. Maybe we simply go

dark, numb and disconnected, in the mode we have often used just to survive.

Sometimes, and this is the tough one -- our wires get crossed by the abuse we suffered, and

we wish the same harm to those who do the violence. It doesn’t help. It only repeats inside

the very action that left us in this position in the first place.

But I wonder what would happen if we kept the rage tender, the sorrow true, the grief

honored by meeting IT inside head on? This would be the opposite of passivity, or

capitulation: finding the possibility that emerges when we face the beast. Perhaps IT could

bring us to see the cracks in whatever darkness we inhabit, rescuing little ideas that gleam

for a second in our soul then disappear. Coaxing them back. It means attention to

not this or that but possibly both or some other way entirely....*

We are in the midst of great tumult. It is not easy to respond instead of react in the old

ways. But if we remember we are survivors and have already lived through so much, we

can be fierce in our tenderness, loving in our sorrow and grief, creative and authentic in

our response. Perhaps we hold the younger part of ourselves that has no words with

some respect for all we face with kindness, which itself is a form of courage.

However we meet IT, perhaps this is how in our own way, we change the world around

us and ourselves in the process. However large or small our response, this is the

powerful work of life and of recovery as we confront the situation at hand.

And in this, it is activism in the truest sense.

*. Martin Shaw, "Navigating the Mysteries". Emergence Magazine/org

Founder's Blog • 4/18

I hate the way I act

I hate the way I look

I hate the way I sound

I hate the way I feel

I hate the way I am

I am. I am...

This pain persists...

Even when I do everything right

Even after years of therapy 

Even with all I know and all I have learned.

Even if I have people in my life that love me and that I truly care about,

Why do I feel so sad?

Why do I feel so stuck?

Why am I still so tight and shut down?

Why do I still rage at the drop of a hat?

Why do keep screwing up when I am just about to shine?

Why do I double down when I am called out?

Why can't I admit when I fail--

or why do I always take the blame no matter what?

Why can't I stop my compulsions, my addictions, my self-destructive habits?

Why do I still care so much about the opinion of the people I trust the least?

Why can't I get out of my own way?

Why do I yearn for contact, but then I isolate?  

Why am I so depressed?

Why am I still so terrified?

Why do I still have those goddamned voices in my head that tell me

...I'm a fuck up.   

...I'm an imposter 

...that I should just die

There are too many secrets, too many triggers--too many demons.

The pain inside is old.  But it is also young. It is encoded in our cells through centuries of the trauma of our ancestors, which has been enacted and reenacted again and again.  

But survivors can get stuck in the strategy a child will embody without love or care:  we turn on ourselves.  Knowing no other way to be, we become oddly but fiercely loyal to the intergenerational program.   Since it has not felt safe to trust ourselves, we have learned the shame strategy to prepare for any future risk of damage. It is a tried-and-true survival response not only to trouble but to success.   

The adult part will analyze, process, narrate all of this--more words.  Even talk therapy alone can keep us stuck, held captive by the story no matter how insightful we are in our heads.

But under the cognitive radar, the younger parts inside are trapped in the time we were harmed or neglected. The child does not have words for this--only a longing in the muscles of the heart to be seen and held--to be safe.   So shame becomes the place beneath the words, where fear and rage abide.  And it is where the most powerful unspoken memories are stored--in the body.

What would it be like to hold that part of our young self with tenderness and forgiveness--safe and beloved?

We recoil.  We may not wish to revisit that place or give that kid a thing.  All they ever did was cause us trouble.

Yet, imagine if we could break up the embedded debris of shame, by holding the child parts with the respect they should have always had. In their own way, it is how they imperfectly served and protected us, perhaps even kept us alive.  It is a part of the grief and loss that must be honored and felt to move on, an essential element to recovery.

It takes patience and unconditional love to raise a child, even the one inside. 

Let us go outside today.  Perhaps that beloved child can teach us --afraid yes, crying yes--to love them again, and to risk the joy and wonder of it all.

-Mikele Rauch

Founder's Blog • Be Kind Anyway

We witness the world. We feel it. Our very bones remember what we have lived through. For survivors, these deeply stressful times can call forth one's own history of neglect, betrayal and vulnerability. It has become more, not less, difficult to cope as this pandemic, the brutality of war and racial injustice drag on. These extraordinary times create extreme responses—for worse and for better.

Sometimes we revert to the old demons we used in the past to survive, and the ways we shut out, shut down, or close off from the people or the solace we really need. The embedded past experience of anxiety and profound fear can bring us back to the anger or self contempt that mimic those who harmed us, or the lies they told us.

And this is the challenge of how we treat ourselves.

In times like these, it is amazing to witness the self-sacrifice and generosity others possess in the face of these difficult times. But truly, why is it so difficult for us to recognize that powerful aspect of kindness we ourselves possess for others. The programs embedded inside from the abuse often makes it hard to see ourselves, and all we are-- or why it is so vital to tend to our own time, boundaries and health we can truly make use of all we have lived through and all we have learned.

There is little more to say that we have not heard before about tending to ourselves. This is not just a bubble bath or vacation. It is an everyday practice that is easily neglected: simply resting, moving, eating something delicious and fresh, finding some joy in small things.

The world is with us. There is so much to attend to and so very much we want to fix. This is why these simple acts of kindness for ourselves are vital-- so that we can attend to what and who we truly care about.

Founder's Blog

Out of a great need

                                                                                                                              we are all holding hands

                                                                                                                              and climbing.

                                                                                                                              Not loving is a letting go.

                                                                                                                              Listen

                                                                                                                              the terrain around here

                                                                                                                              is far too dangerous for that.

                                                                                                                                                                  -Hafiz

            The recent events in  this world can stupefy us with their cruelty and pain.  There is war, chaos, injustice and grief.  We may rage in anger or retreat in fear or overwhelm just to feel safe.

            There is an ancient healing practice called tonglen that cultivates fearlessness and compassion in the face of suffering and all that seems unfixable.  Tonglen is a way of connecting with the pain that we cannot change, whether it be a person or a situation.  In tonglen, the practice is to breathe that person or thing into the heart and then breathe out the fear and resistance with kindness. 

This practice is coming to terms with what feels true inside, even the darkest feelings, breathing not only the pain of oneself, but for the world.    This is not a superficial exercise. To take in pain and grief with this kind of softness may seem counter-intuitive. Why would you want to take in what you most wish to eliminate?   It goes against the grain of wanting to control things on our own terms.

But consider truly feeling what you feel and actually take it in—then, send out relief to all who are just like you, who want to be strong—or who want to be kind but are actually angry or numb because of fear or loss. We may find that the more negativity we take in with a sense of openness and compassion, the more goodness there is to breathe out.*

It may be hard to face the darkness, to ride the wave of being stuck in the muck.  But we can hold the world and those we care for.  We can breathe in this kindness for all of us, and breathe it back out with love -for all of us. 

Enclosed is a resource used by Congolese women survivors of domestic violence.  For generations they have used fingerholds to manage overwhelming and difficult emotions in times of profound stress. These fingerholds can reduce stress and help us feel overwhelmed. 

As we breathe in and out

*Chogyam Trungpa