Ya know the wildest thing is that after all the trees I planted, all the kids I taught, all the volunteers I’ve organized, all the people I’ve counseled, all the money I’ve donated, all the votes cast, all the ranting and raving, all the writing, all the researching,
all of it trying to make this world a little less self-destructive,
The most potent action I’ve found isn’t an action at all.
It‘s looking at the darkest corners of my being and letting my heart bathe it all in profound acceptance.
It sounds so cheesy but I swear to god it’s true.
Although trauma is becoming more talked about in everyday circles, sometimes it is still thought of as something that only “really unfortunate” people experience. You know, those people. But the truth is we’ve all experienced it in varying degrees.
I love how Gabor Mate approaches trauma: it’s not the event, he explains, it’s how we responded to the event that makes something traumatic. In some ways it may be overly simplistic, but it follows my own experience and what I see play out with my clients time and time again.
Last night was the first night in awhile where it was cool enough to keep my bedroom door open. Delight!
It also led to me waking up quite a bit during the night. This led to experientially connecting with a question that came up in a recent gathering:
What can I do when waking up in the middle of the night?
During the nineteenth century, phantasmagoria – or theatrical horror shows – became a popular attraction throughout Britain, Europe and the United States. The creators used lighting, projectors, smoke, sound effects and electric shocks to conjure all manner of apparitions and frighten audiences. Sequences of terrifying images played on screens and theatres were often decorated accordingly. There were even rumours of patrons being drugged.