A Little Good News

Photo by Bu00fcu015franur Aydu0131n on Pexels.com

“In order to move beyond self-blame and isolation, it is important that we recognize the multifaceted ways that the economy assaults our self-esteem, our joy and our happiness. The good news is that throughout the world, people are waking up to the systemic roots of their psychological wounding, and coming together to find refuge and healing… People are stepping away from the consumer rat-race, and restoring the connections to self, community and nature that are the cornerstones of real wellbeing.” Helena Norberg-Hodge in Countercurrents.

We’re regularly bombarded with bad news, and frequently presented with problems that all too often appear to be without solutions. I can only imagine the toll this takes on our hearts and souls. I’m reminded of a line in an old song, “sure could use a little good news today.” And so the following documentary offers just that, a little good news, and people implementing solutions. People like Helena Norberg-Hodge.

In Lewiston, Maine: Seeking Comfort, Wisdom and Perspective

Photo by Vie Studio on Pexels.com

“How do we change the world? One random act of kindness at a time.”

Morgan Freeman

I was in Scotland when I learned about the terrible attacks in Lewiston, Maine – the city where we have a home and where my daughter, grandchildren, and so very many people that I care about live. It’s where my husband works and where I had a private psychotherapy practice for several years. My heart feels leaden this first morning back in Maine as I struggle to make sense of the senseless.

During our stay in Ireland and Scotland, the kindness of strangers repeatedly touched us. A level of caring that seems increasingly rare in the United States and which has prompted me to ask: what has happened in a country so often touted as “the richest and most powerful in the world” that has left us feeling less connected, less compassionate, and less kind to those beyond our immediate circles? To what extent do our fractured connections, diminishing sense of community, and the scarcity of random acts of kindness correlate with the surge in random acts of violence? And how might offering and receiving more frequent acts of kindness contribute to our healing?

While I know all too well that there are no simple solutions or quick fixes, it seems reasonable to expect that living in a kinder and more connected world would be living in a safer world. In a kinder world, we’d be far more likely to experience greater empathy, resolve conflicts more effectively, feel less lonely, ask for help more readily, and possess greater happiness and well-being.

While we can only speculate about the motivations of the individual responsible for the tragedy in Lewiston (whom I choose not to name), it’s been said that “hurt people hurt.” Amid our collective pain here in Maine, I’m hoping that the assertion that “kindness begets kindness” might offer us additional perspective and guidance as we move through the coming dark and dismal days.

When we experience and witness kindness, we’re far more likely to pass it on. When we’ve been supported in our grief, we’re more likely to reach out to another who is grieving. When we receive help from a stranger, we’re more likely to help someone unknown, and when we’ve been a recipient of generosity, we often behave more generously. In this all too often “what’s in it for me?” culture, research informs us that the kinder we are, the healthier, happier, and more resilient we tend to be. And so, in passing on acts of kindness and compassion, we not only help to heal this broken world, we, too, experience healing.

I have so many questions and far too few answers, so I’ve begun searching for any perspective, wisdom, and comfort I might find. I’ll carve out time during the next few months to share here some of what I discover. In the meantime, I’m going to lean on kindness as much as I possibly can.

With so much love and so much sadness…
Tammie Fowles

Following are two videos that I came across this morning that offer some perspective on our culture at large, and offers a vision for healing.

My Very Own Giving Tree

Photo by u0415u043au0430u0442u0435u0440u0438u043du0430 u0428u0443u043cu0441u043au0438u0445 on Pexels.com

A little over twenty years ago, we purchased an old house on the lake in a small village in Maine. Approximately sixteen years later, a tree that we had completely neglected and barely noticed began producing apples. Today, apples that I’ll make applesauce with this afternoon completely cover my kitchen table. The apples are ‘ugly.’ Bruised and covered in blemishes, they could never be sold in a store, and yet they are delicious. They are a precious reminder to me of grace – gifts neither asked for nor cultivated. Each afternoon for the past few weeks, I’ve collected the fruit of this tree with an incredible sense of gratitude, and I gently place a hand on the trunk of this, my very own ‘giving’ tree, one which had lived beside me for so many years unnoticed and uncelebrated, and I thank it. It occurred to me after reading the Hindu parable about “Atithi Devo Bhava,” that we are far less the owners of the land upon which she is rooted as we are the tree’s guests, and she has gifted us generously. I now recognize the divine that dwells within her, and I bow in her presence.

An Open Letter to a Survivor of Spiritual Trauma or Religious Abuse Beginning the Long Road to Recovery.

Dear reader,

Maya Angelou wrote, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. So, first, I want to offer you words of support and encouragement as you come to terms with your own untold story. I know all too well the pain and complexities of dealing with issues related to spiritual trauma and how challenging the recovery process can be. Please know that you’re not alone. 

Exploring and confronting your wounds can be painful and formidable work, and I deeply respect your inner strength and determination in beginning this process. I avoided dealing with my own spiritual wounds for far too long.      

Despite what some experts might have you believe, there is no magic formula or precise recipe to follow on your healing journey; it’s a deeply personal process. It’s likely that you’ll occasionally feel overwhelmed and uncertain as you do the work required for healing. It’s helpful to remind yourself that your feelings are normal and understandable during these times.

Someone once observed that recovery is never linear, meaning it doesn’t occur in a straight line from pain to healing. Instead, it’s a long, winding spiral of growth, self-discovery, and reclamation. You begin to retrieve those parts of yourself that got left behind, like your capacity for joy, optimism, self-confidence, and self-love. Have you ever noticed how small children can be full of themselves in the most delightful way? There was a time very early in your life when that small and exuberant child was you. 

And while it’s true that your past religious experiences may continue to fester and plague you, they most definitely don’t define you. You have within you the ability to shape your future, honor your truth, and embrace your authentic self, although you might not believe this yet. For now, please be gentle with yourself. You deserve compassion and kindness. I urge you to treat yourself as you would a close friend who is going through a difficult time.  And so, how about considering doing the following?

Reach out to friends, family, and or support groups for reassurance and perspective.

Sharing your experience with others who understand can be incredibly therapeutic. A healthy community can validate your feelings and experiences and provide valuable emotional support. Group members have often faced some of the same challenges you now face. Connecting with people further along in their healing process can inspire and encourage you. In turn, offering others your insights and support is both gratifying and empowering.        

Consider working with a therapist specializing in spiritual trauma and recovery.

Experienced and empathic therapists can assist you in navigating the complex psychological and emotional challenges that often accompany spiritual trauma and abuse. A competent, caring therapist also provides a much-needed place to feel safe, validated, and understood as you begin the vital work of healing.   

Make your health and well-being a priority.

Most survivors of trauma aren’t particularly good at this at first. Work on giving your body what it needs to thrive, feed your soul, and take time for yourself. Do things that bring you pleasure and peace.

Begin establishing clear boundaries with people or situations that trigger painful memories or emotions.

Practice saying, “No.” I’m guessing that this will be incredibly uncomfortable at first. It’s unlikely that you were encouraged to communicate your needs and set limits while growing up. And yet, both are essential to protecting your time, emotional well-being, and energy.   

Learn as much as you can about spiritual trauma and recovery.

“Knowledge is power” isn’t just a tired old cliche. It’s plain and simple truth. Trauma is often isolating, and learning about the common symptoms, beliefs, and behaviors associated with spiritual trauma can help you feel less alone. It can also assist you in better understanding your experiences, locate resources for healing, reclaim your spirituality, and reduce your risk of further trauma. 

Celebrate your progress, no matter how modest.

Healing is a long and often arduous process. Acknowledging your progress can help you stay motivated and hopeful. Recognizing how you’ve grown increases your self-esteem and fosters your sense of strength and resiliency.  

Give Yourself Permission to Heal

Giving yourself permission to heal may seem like a strange suggestion. After all, why would you need permission? Because I suspect that you probably received indirect messages such as you’re a sinner, not good enough, or not worthy of love and acceptance. These messages tend to live submerged within your unconscious, making it difficult to believe at the deepest level that you deserve to heal. You may also carry a significant amount of guilt for disappointing your family or leaving your spiritual community, regardless of the harm it may have caused you. Perhaps the threat of hell or Armageddon keeps you frozen in fear. And (or) you may be afraid of the unknown and what it will mean to let go of what has occupied such an immense space in your life for so long? How will you fill the gaping void? Can you now appreciate why you might resist healing even though you desperately want to? We’re strange and complicated creatures, you and I. Capable of sabotaging ourselves and acting against our best interests. We’re also extraordinary in a vast number of ways. 

You’ve endured so much fear, pain, and confusion throughout your lifetime, and yet you’ve survived it all. You, my dear reader, are a walking, talking miracle who most definitely deserves to be healthy, happy, and whole. You’re capable and worthy of creating and embracing a rich, fulfilling, and meaningful life. It’s simply waiting for you to move toward it…

With heartfelt love and longing,

Tammie Fowles

Web Resources on Healing and Recovering from Spiritual Trauma and Religious Abuse

Spiritual Abuse Resources

Resources for Religious Trauma and Adverse Religious Experiences

Spiritual Harm and Abuse Scale

Recovering From Religion

The Hope of Survivors

Spiritual Sounding Board

Hello Again

I watched an excellent video today by one of my favorite wisdom seekers – Gabor Mate. Daniel Mate, his oldest son, accompanied Gabor. The two focused on the relationship between adult children and their parents, providing insights for both. If you’ve never listened to Gabor Mate before or read one of his books (or even if you have), he and his son are well worth a listen. Daniel and Gabor have written a soon-to-be-published book together, “Hello Again: A Fresh Start for Parents and Their Adult Children” and will be producing a podcast as well.

The Enormous Power of Our Choices

I watched an excellent TED talk this morning by Caroline Myss that I encourage you to check out. Here’s one of the gems that she offers, “Every single choice we make is either going to enhance the spirit or drain it. Every day, we’re either giving ourselves power or taking it away.”  And here’s another, “Never blame another person for your personal choices – you are still the one who must live out the consequences of your choices.”

The Seven of Pentacles

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

“Under a sky the color of pea soup
she is looking at her work growing away there
actively, thickly like grapevines or pole beans
as things grow in the real world, slowly enough.
If you tend them properly, if you mulch, if you water,
if you provide birds that eat insects a home and winter food,
if the sun shines and you pick off caterpillars,
if the praying mantis comes and the ladybugs and the bees,
then the plants flourish, but at their own internal clock.
Connections are made slowly, sometimes they grow underground.
You cannot tell always by looking what is happening.
More than half the tree is spread out in the soil under your feet.
Penetrate quietly as the earthworm that blows no trumpet.
Fight persistently as the creeper that brings down the tree.
Spread like the squash plant that overruns the garden.
Gnaw in the dark and use the sun to make sugar.
Weave real connections, create real nodes, build real houses.
Live a life you can endure: Make love that is loving.
Keep tangling and interweaving and taking more in,
a thicket and bramble wilderness to the outside but to us
interconnected with rabbit runs and burrows and lairs.
Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen:
reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing in.
This is how we are going to live for a long time: not always,
for every gardener knows that after the digging, after
the planting, after the long season of tending and growth,
the harvest comes.”

by Marge Piercy, From Circles on the Water, Selected Poems of Marge Piercy

On the Night That She Was Born

Back When You Were Older

For Kevin, my husband, and for all of those who’ve felt trapped in a world that was too small for them.

The Woman in the Mirror

Photo by Hanawasthere on Pexels.com

What do I see when I peer into the mirror? I see change. I see experience. I see the Byram eyes. I see the wrinkles around my mouth. Age spots. I see a neck that is crinkling and lines in my forehead. I don’t see ‘me.’ At least the person in the mirror doesn’t feel like me. She’s not the woman that I saw for most of my adult life. She’s not the pretty, soft eyed woman that could turn heads. The one who seldom wore makeup and simply trusted her natural beauty. In all honesty, while not quite a stranger, this creature who looks back at me and whom I recognize as me still seems somehow unfamiliar. I most definitely haven’t caught up to this face yet.

This woman in the mirror doesn’t appear as approachable as the one that I had the luxury of taking for granted for so long. She doesn’t look as soft or as gentle as the one who lives inside of me. This one looks like she’d probably suffer no fools and would tolerate no back talk.

I direct her to smile, and she immediately obliges. Still, no matter how hard we try, she and I, that smile doesn’t convince me that she’s, well, truly me. Could this be what experience and life wisdom does to a face? The question surprises me. After all, it’s been my lifelong mission – the acquisition of wisdom. Am I offering up a psychic trade? Beauty for wisdom? Or maybe I’m merely acknowledging a simple truth. You don’t get to approach wisdom without traveling a significant distance, suffering lots of fools (including your own foolhardiness), and encountering (and even embracing) so many (often painful) opportunities for growth. And all of those take a toll on a face.

What kind words can I say about this face before me? If I’m truthful, I need to admit that no such words come to mind at the moment. Clearly, I haven’t made peace with this face. I miss the old one. I really miss the old one. And yet, I prefer this version of the woman who claims the face in my mirror. She’s so much happier and, yes, wiser than the younger, prettier one.

And now I gaze at the woman looking calmly back at me, smile at her warmly, and send her love.