The baby is sick.
Your mom is dying. A child is in
the hospital. A relationship has failed. You did not get pregnant. You lost
your baby. Your adoption failed. You were abused. You were bullied. You don’t know your biological parents. You
watched someone take her last breath.
You survived a tornado or earthquake, but your home or friends did
not. You just found out you have cancer. You are changing jobs. Again. You are moving homes. Again. The plane is crashing.
These are only a few examples of traumatic experiences. My father is a pilot, and he has told me
stories of landing a plane in an emergency – “If you feel, you die. You just have to stay calm and do the next
right thing.” As a therapist I talk a lot about identifying, honoring, and expressing
our feelings. I believe in this wholeheartedly. Yet in crisis, most of us are not stopping
and saying, “I feel scared right now.” We are stuffing that down so we can get
to the work of landing the plane. And this
has its critical place in our lives. We
have to land. If my father had let his
fear take over, he might have lost his ability to rationalize through getting
that 78K pound hunk of metal on the ground. But think about if we are in constant
crisis – landing the every day planes of our lives – but not ever turning to
someone and saying, “I’m scared. This is hard.
Can I tell you my story?” We lose connection – with others, our lives,
and most importantly ourselves. We go
numb from all the crises when there isn’t time to share the experience.
AFTER WE LAND, WE MUST SHARE THE STORY.
Another woman has lost her baby and needs to feel your tears
with her. Another man has lost his wife
and needs to know you understand the loneliness too. Another family has experienced so much loss
and sickness and needs to feel like someone else gets it. Yes, they need your
casseroles and donations, but more importantly they need your eyes to look
right into theirs and let them know you feel their pain. Even if you don’t know what it’s like to go
through their exact situation, you know pain. You know need. You know what it’s like for your heart to be
ripping out. You know what it’s like to
feel so much shame you can’t face someone or ask for help. And if you don’t know these things, then look
deep inside your heart for all those stories you have stuffed down while
landing your plane. They are in there – gifts waiting for you to unwrap and
share with others.
No matter where we live or who we are, it is universal to
feel sadness, shame, guilt, fear, anger, hurt, loneliness, and gladness. We may not feel them for the same reasons, but
we feel them. And when we honor those
for ourselves or others, a beautiful connection happens. We connect to the
loving spirit inside of us and we connect to other people. My white American
woman heart actually looks the same as my brown Haitian boys’ hearts. When I tell them, “you guys, mom is sad
today, and I’m sorry I am not able to decorate for Christmas today like we
hoped,” I am met with love, kindness,
forgiveness, and a chance to connect deeper. If I had not told them that and hid my
sadness instead, it would have shown up as frustration that the decorations weren’t
“perfect” or the stockings were hanging crooked. We may have all got wound up in the freaking
lights yelling at each other. But
instead we all shared our grief, hugged, and actually got those decorations up
anyway.
As I look at my nativity scene I’m reminded of Joseph and
Mary’s emergency landing in a little stable.
Hope began here. Hope for you and
me. Hope for the world. We are not without crisis or pain. But we can connect our hearts in it. We can show up like shepherds and wisemen to
bring gifts of love and healing. We
witness the story of the crisis and connect in the landing.
~If you are in an
emergency landing, give yourself so much grace for your quick action and
courage.
~Remind yourself it’s okay to be a little bit numb
emotionally in the beginning as you are searching for the answers and a safe place to land.
~After you’ve landed, share your story with yourself. Share
it with a safe loved one. Be honest
about how you feel and what you’ve experienced.
~You did a good job – the best you could do. Honor your feelings. Tell your story. Rest your weary souls.
