CAN I GET A WITNESS?
The Power Of A Loving Witness To Our Pain, 3 Things Worth Sharing: Poems, Journal Prompts, and a Listening Practice.
I spoke to a second cousin last week about some of our shared family history. She shared some unexpected stories that shook me to my core. I won’t go into the details of the information here, and why would I? No one wants to read this stuff and especially not in the emotional state I am in trying to process it. What I can do is tell you how it made me FEEL.
Angry. Heartbroken. Betrayed. Upended.
Where do we GO when we are feeling this kind of pain?
In the great, raw, howling moments of pain; having a witness matters. - Rhoda Mills Sommer
My first response is always to cry out to God. It’s primal, immediate, human. My body wails before my words take shape.
I felt slammed and emotionally tumbled head over heels- not unlike times when you are standing in the ocean distracted by something beautiful, and suddenly you are hit by a massive wave. Knocked off your feet, powerless and struggling to identify up or down, and gulping saltwater. Struggling to aright yourself until finally your feet find the sand again and your head comes up for air, shocked, sputtering, all senses alive, wondering what just happened.
Our emotional pain lives in the body and often grasps for the most direct release, perhaps in hope of finding its equilibrium again as well. Like the title of one of Anne Lamott’s books, “ Help, Thanks, Wow,” all I could do was cry out “HELP HELP HELP.“ I could not hold it on my own. I cried out to God. I cried in to God. I cried.
When the immediate shock waves finally had finally moved through my body, I began to feel the “peace that passeth understanding” following the release of my own tears, my own salt water. I then reached out for the grounding comfort and companionship of my husband, some close friends and my recovery group.
I am deeply grateful for the people in my life who have the willingness and capacity to be present for me and to lovingly witness my pain. It is a gift, an art, and a healing balm to be held in a space of loving presence. I am reminded yet again how much we need each other’s presence to heal. Healing our stories happens within community.
Knocked down by the powerful waves of pain, I found myself once again safety held on the shore with others, embraced tenderly by their love and the love of the Divine through them.
THE POWER OF LOVING ATTENTION
I am aware that not everyone has the kind of support system I do. I know there are many people who feel acutely alone when facing their pain. It breaks my heart. While we may be able to endure alone. I don’t think it is actually possible to heal without one another. We were never meant to live disconnected from support and loving community.
Mostly it has to do with our childhood conditioning. Many of us had to shut down our feelings in order to survive. Like recoiling from a hot stove, our bodies learned to recoil from painful feelings. Often we weren’t even aware we were doing it. We had to learn to keep things bottled up inside to survive. This is not news to us. Learning to allow ourselves to be witnessed and held in love while we feel our painful feelings is a sure sign of healing from our trauma.
I was reminded this week that when I share my heart and my pain vulnerably and authentically with those I trust, the healing moves through us both, it is not a one way transmission or delivery. Something mysterious and beautiful happens between the speaker and the listener, drawing us closer to one another, connecting us beyond words. This kind of experience opens a pathway of healing between both people. We heal together inside the great mystery that holds us all, love.
How did It make me feel to be witnessed in my pain? Seen, heard, felt, loved, held. Connected, not alone. The pain is one thing, being alone in the pain is another. When we listen to each other in this way, we increase and circulate empathy, trust, transparency, healing and grace in the world. We participate in the work of Love.
You too are a witness and listener in your own way through this newsletter. You encourage me to keep writing and sharing my experience. I feel your presence.I bow to you in deep gratitude. Thank you.
JOURNAL PROMPTS:
Who listens to me?
Whom in my life could I witness with more care, attention and affection?
How can I authentically reach out and thank those who share healing, listening space with me?
How can I provide loving presence for myself?
How can I more fully acknowledge the loving presence within me?
“The greatest gift you can give anyone is your undivided attention...”
―Will Schwalbe
How do I listen to others? by Hafiz
How do I listen to others?
As if everyone were my Master
speaking to me
his cherished last words.
How do I listen to you?
As if you were the Alpha
and the Omega
of all sound.This poem was sent to me by my dear friend, Gina. It beautifully expressed how I was feeling. Maybe it will be divine timing for you as well.
Adrift by Mark Nepo
Everything is beautiful and I am so sad.
This is how the heart makes a duet of
wonder and grief. The light spraying
through the lace of the fern is as delicate
as the fibers of memory forming their web
around the knot in my throat. The breeze
makes the birds move from branch to branch
as this ache makes me look for those I’ve lost
in the next room, in the next song, in the laugh
of the next stranger. In the very center, under
it all, what we have that no one can take
away and all that we’ve lost face each other.
It is there that I’m adrift, feeling punctured
by a holiness that exists inside everything.
I am so sad and everything is beautiful.PRACTICE
A Listening Practice : Each day for a week, list 7 things that you heard that day and create a doodle for any one of those things. Did you hear a dog barking, create a doodle of the dog barking. Refrigerator humming? Doodle a fridge. Fan blowing? Doodle a box fan. You get the idea. Some people keep a small notebook just for these lists and doodles. You are tuning your listening instrument.
xoxo In the middle of it all, with you. Mary