Two metaphors for healing trauma…

As my personal healing journey unfolded, there were two metaphors that arose which I found helpful.

The first is that the experience of trauma can be like an express elevator to God. The sharpness and depth of the experience cuts through everything else in life, and puts one into direct contact with some of the fundamental questions and essence of human experience. The sense of isolation brings us face to face with helplessness and feeling alone. The sense of being broken can bring us face to face with our frailty, lack of control, and mortality. The sense of losing hope and being stuck, unable to grow, brings one’s mind to its edge where it cannot ultimately solve or resolve every question or difficulty life may bring.

It provides an opportunity to quickly come face to face with the Ultimate-ness of life. It can unveil a deep longing that goes beyond simply wanting to feel better, to live without symptoms of PTS(D). For me, the experience of trauma contained a gift which brought me face to face with discovering what my particular life is all about. It revealed my longing to realize the Truth of Oneness. The Sufi poet Hafiz puts it a little better than I can:

Don’t surrender your loneliness
so quickly.
Let it cut more deep.
Let it ferment and season you
as few humans
or even divine ingredients can.
Something missing in my heart tonight
has made my eyes soft,
my voice, so tender.
My need of God
absolutely, clear.

Hafiz

One large green tree in autumn with orange leaves in mist, fog, and sun rays breaking, shining through foggy silhouette in morning countryside concept

The second metaphor came to me from my therapist, who described the experience of trauma as being like a slingshot. The mechanism of a slingshot is paradoxical, because the faster and closer you want to get to your intended target, the more resistance you have to build, and the further from you target you have to go before you release.

I think the experience of going into our traumatic experience is like this. If we want to realize our union with the Divine, we have to be willing to make the journey that might feel as if we are initially walking away. As we journey further, the intensity increases, the resistance builds, and it can be exhausting to body, mind, and spirit.

It can also be inspiring. There may be moments where the resistance suggests that you are close to the point where the release comes, unlocking energy to double down and increase the effort. So we press on, sometimes running, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling, sometimes being carried by someone or something. We experience the dark night. Just near the point where it feels like everything could come ripping apart, we find a grace in surrender. We accept the journey as it is. The difficulty, the unpredictability, the unfairness, the grief, the powerlessness, and the longing.

And then, often quit unexpectedly, something lets go. We let go. We stop fighting and resisting and whoosh. With great speed we travel the distance straight towards our Love, our Being, our One. Somehow the veil finally drops and we find what we have been looking for all along.

We find our way Home.