Trauma and transformation in ordinary life

Saturday evening, my husband and I had dinner and hung out with friends. They live down the street on a lovely patch of land that features a path into the woods, a firepit, a bridge crossing a melodious creek, a treehouse, and a recently installed zipline.

After dinner we wandered out back for a look. While standing on the bridge, I reconnected with my 9-year-old self, and entered into the world of enchantment our friends were creating for their grandchildren.

When my husband asked, “Are you gonna try it?” I quickly said, “Of course!!!” My inner 9-year-old self was already experiencing the exquisite sensation of a reasonably controlled free-fall!

My friend demonstrated the embarking and disembarking process with ease. My confidence and excitement rose! Zipline here I come!!!

Our friends coached me onto the seat. I’d ziplined many times before, so the process was very familiar. When I was reminded to keep my feet up, I did just that! Down I went … down I went. But not forward … backward!

My hard head smacked into hard wood. I found myself splayed out on the treehouse floor still clutching at the hand hold that had slipped off the line. The gentle sound of flowing water was overcome by urgent voices. “Oh no!! Sweetie are you okay?” and “Don’t move!” and “Oh man, oh man!” Then many footsteps quickly scuffling to see about me.

Traumatic? I offer this definition from Merriam-Webster: “Something is traumatic if it's very upsetting, painful, or disturbing." The word is related to a Greek word meaning wound; so you can think of traumatic as something involving a wound, either physical or mental.

Certainly, this experience inflicted a physical wound. The back of my head quickly developed a large goose egg. A mental or emotional wound could easily have occurred as well. My 9-year-old self would have heard condemning voices saying,

“What’s wrong with you, Lisa?”

“This is your fault."

"If only you’d been more careful.”

“Look at the mess you’ve made.”

These traumatizing voices would have led me to experience my injury with embarrassment and deep shame. My trauma response would have rejected any expressions of kindness or efforts to help. I would have felt weak, and desperate to climb back to the top of my imaginary mountain of self-sufficiency and independence … to feel in control … a little island with no needs.

But instead, this little trauma offered for me a doorway into deeper transformation and healing. This time, at the sound of concerned voices, I allowed myself to melt into the kindness and care of generous love and compassion. I felt no need to defend myself with strength and self-sufficiency. Oddly, this weak and vulnerable way of being known cracks open to the rich, sustaining ground of endless awakening, transformation, and healing.

I’ve been on a healing journey for many years. I am grateful to find myself more and more willing to experience trauma as an invitation to transformation. Allowing the flow of generous love while in the midst and aftermath of any trauma invites us to deeper connection with ourselves, each other, and God. So, I encourage you to notice, just notice, the condemning voices that want to take center stage when something upsets you. Learn to quiet your being.

In so doing you will cultivate an ear to hear the voice of love inviting you to experience deeper compassion for yourself and all others.