It occurs to me after writing my last post that Trauma Drama is about all that my body knows.
Realizing this fact I immediately thought about soap carving! I tried this once, only rather than finding the soap malleable, I found it to be fragile and everything I tried to make simple shattered in the course of carving. Pieces flaked off the bar of soap where I didn’t intend them to, and my project ended up on the ledge of my bathtub where it met the end I believe – at least for me – soap is intended to meet!
So, now that my right brain and body has made the image-connection between trauma drama and soap carving I need to explore how these two factors of life might be connected.
When I left home and throughout all of my adulthood until I began my own research into what REALLY happened to me as a severely abused infant-child I was actually living a life of trauma drama – and of course didn’t even begin to know it. Looking back, I own this truth because at the same time I realize that’s all my BODY knew about being alive.
I listened to my ‘deadbeat’ neighbor’s 18-year-old grandson and his comparable girlfriend yesterday as I labored on my yard project. She screamed and cried. He yelled and swore. Over the years I’ve watched that boy (and now his girlfriend!) follow a pattern that I can not call anything BUT trauma drama. With all the brilliance of a scholar and all the motivation of a chronic pothead I have watched with disappointment and some amazement as this boy (and obviously his girlfriend) simply toss the full potential of a wonderful life away.
Their drama yesterday had to do with her throwing a snit-fit that had evidently ended with her throwing his cell phone over the Mexican-American border fence behind our shared backyard line. He was out there scrambling around searching for it. It could not be found. To these two young people this is the way to live life. How sad is that?
And yet as I turn my own searchlight on my own life, I know I did little better. Sure, I ‘sought recovery’ when I was thirty, but not even that did very much to help me except to get me ‘off of pot’. Nobody back then actually knew what was wrong with me. In fact, I don’t believe I could find maybe more than one ‘therapist’ in the whole state of Arizona (where I reside) that even now would have the savvy to know that what I am is a trauma-changed in my earliest development person with a body that knows only more of the same.
So, as I try to gain clarity and self-possessed choice, free will and control over how my life GOES now and how I FEEL in my body, I have to increasingly understand how absolutely and fundamentally NORMAL trauma actually feels for and in my own body.
Trying to carve for myself a non-trauma-drama life is something like trying to carve something exquisite and remarkably beautiful out of something as fragile as a bar of soap. Only I don’t want the rest of my life to wash away as easily as a bar of soap does. I will keep trying – with every breath – to avoid letting the DRAMA of TRAUMA reenact itself through MY life. Giving it words in thought, giving myself the power of knowledge about how what happened to me from birth changed my development, finding my own way out of the repetitive darkness that trauma drama creates on the stage of human life is a worth – creative – and very artistic endeavor.
After all, even in the most glorious sunrise Creation has created beauty. I want to follow THAT path – and not the OTHER one – however I am able to do that today. If I have to teach my own body about this better way of life every step of the way, then I intend to do that. Like driving a car with four bad tires, worn-out shocks and no front end alignment, I dare not take my hands off the wheel. I cannot afford to take my eyes off my target. I cannot carve out my better life with my eyes closed!