Healthy Living DIY

Please understand that this is not a debate about whether or not the event was traumatic. It was. The point here is to explore some ways in which people heal from trauma (or don't). Since I am not, per se, an expert on trauma, I wish to bring in two guest experts who are.

First, we'll briefly explore the work of Dr. Peter Levine, whose book Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma was one of the first consumer titles I found that a regular person like me could get their mind around and understand. (By the way, his newer book & CD set Healing Trauma: A Pioneering Program for Restoring the Wisdom of Your Body looks excellent - it's on my list to check out.)

Dr. Levine explains that, as we look to nature, it's easy enough to understand how animals in the wild resolve trauma. They simply shake it off. We humans, being more complex social creatures, think we should hide our trauma. This makes it nearly impossible to shake off, since it's too deeply buried to get to.

Let's bring this into focus relative to our tattooed friends. If the tattoo is a way to bring the traumatic experience out into the open for healing, it could ultimately be quite helpful.

In fact, one of the persons who was interviewed for the article I read said that he hoped the tattoo he had placed on the back of his neck would help him "put the experience behind him." Well said, and if it does that, his tattoo will surely have been a sound investment.

For the other side of the coin, we'll visit with Caroline Myss. In her book, Why People Don't Heal and How They Can, Dr. Myss explores the strategy of "leading with your wounds." In fact, one of the first healing fallacies she takes on is the myth "My life is defined by my wound."

As she explains, most of us do have histories of which trauma or tragedy are a part. Things happen, large and small. Regardless of the public view of the event, anything that shakes our foundations is troubling to us. Some events would be troubling to anyone. Certainly a large-scale disaster.

Dr. Myss' point seems not to belittle the effects of the event, but to support people in moving past it. To consciously channel healing energy back into our lives (versus pouring our energy out through the memory of the event), and in doing so, to put the event into its rightful place in history.

Unfortunately, this is often more easily said than done. She goes on to explain that after a traumatic experience, many people spend years (if not the rest of their lives) viewing everything that happens through the lens of that event. This is not healing, but continual re-living. As a result, we pour our energy into those old memories, leaving us too exhausted to create vital lives in the now.

As I see it, this is the other possible consequence of the "trauma as tatoo" phenomenon.

Two possible outcomes of a similar process - one healing, one not. Where does the difference lie? In the person's perception. The tattoo, when taken on for the purpose of documenting history, could be healing. Yet when meant to show the world one's troubles, it is probably not.

What to do? Both authors have devoted entire books to answering to that question; if you're healing a trauma yourself, they might be worth checking out.

Meanwhile, one simple suggestion is this: Focus on the strength you've gained as a result of the experience. Rather than choosing to dwell on what you lost, focus on what you've gained.

More food for thought..