The new year is a little more than two weeks old and already there have been deaths and illnesses in the wider world circle and in my own overlapping soul circles. Yesterday, a man kidnapped and held hostage a Rabbi and three congregants at Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville, Texas. When I first heard the news on CNN, I had no emotion at all. Flat. Numb. I was glued to the tv for hours, sending out prayers for a safe and peaceful outcome. By the time I went to bed, one of the people had been released. The prayers continued throughout the night, in my dreams and when I occasionally woke up. When my eyes opened to this frigid, pre-snowstorm winter day, the others were free as well. The news was that they were unharmed. My immediate thoughts were, “Thank God.” and “Not physically, but the experience will reverberate throughout their lives in the form of PTSD.” My fervent wish is that they find healing through it.
I have come to learn that all of our experiences are absorbed into our body, mind and spirit, as if we are sponges. Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD speaks about trauma and the idea that “The body keeps score.” This is so, whether or not we recall what occurred, it lives on within us.
Many years ago I was visiting my cousin and leaned on the railing of her back deck. I got a huge honking splinter in the heel of my left hand. She was a phlebotomist at the time and had needles at home. She numbed my hand and dug as much of the splinter out as she could until it bled and started really hurting, so I asked her to stop. She got most of it out, but a shard remained, My body absorbed it. I can still see it if I look closely. I can push on it without pain. I am not aware of it constantly. It has become a part of me but is not me. I could have dug it out completely, but it would have eviscerated my hand. It remains as a reminder. I barely notice it and use it as a teaching tool for clients who think they will never recover from their traumas. With each death of loved ones, it might feel like another splinter. I get to decide for myself whether to let it be as it is or poke and prod at it. That’s just my way. It may not be so for others.
I have also learned the lesson: Don’t push on the boo boo. How often do we pick off the scabs, dig at the wounds and push on areas of our lives that hurt? Only every day. I know I do it. I explore to the nth degree, all of the woundings and worries I have encountered over the years, all of the shoulda woulda coulda, what if and if only actions I have taken or refrained from taking. I tell myself that by doing that, I can figure out how to prevent them from happening again. Not so.
One of my go-to activities when I am adrift, is spiritual anchoring. I call them God-versations as I dialogue with the Divine. A friend sent me this quote from Etty Hillesum who perished in Auschwitz in 1942. Etty was known as The Mystic of the Holocaust. She never saw her 30th birthday but left this wisdom.
“Dear God, these are anxious times. Tonight for the first time I lay in the dark with burning eyes as scene after scene of human suffering passed before me. I shall promise You one thing, God, just one very small thing: I shall never burden my today with cares about my tomorrow, although that takes some practice. Each day is sufficient unto itself. I shall try to help You, God, to stop my strength ebbing away, though I cannot vouch for it in advance. But one thing is becoming increasingly clear to me: that You cannot help us, that we must help You to help ourselves. And that is all we can manage these days and also all that really matters: that we safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves. And perhaps in others as well. Alas, there doesn’t seem to be much You Yourself can do about our circumstances, about our lives. Neither do I hold You responsible. You cannot help us, but we must help You and defend Your dwelling place inside us to the last.“
It is in alignment with some of my most confounding spiritual questions. “Does prayer work because a Divine entity waves a magic wand and makes certain outcomes occur or is it as a result of a shared intention?” “Does God allow tragedies to occur or prevent them from happening?” “Is God like The Force in Star Wars?” I will likely ponder this for the rest of this earthly incarnation. Did collective prayer from all over the world allow the hostages to go home to their loved ones or was it because of petitions to a God of justice, compassion and love?
May you find peace wherever it shows up for you and may your splintered self reintegrate beautifully.
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