Some people are carriers of story. We are challenged by our life to transmit that story we carry. When the thought first hit me last night that I am a ‘carrier’ of something that demands to be ‘transmitted’ I felt an icky kind of fear as if what I have is some kind of disease. Well, truth is, it is exactly a story of dis-ease that I do have to transmit. That fact does not taint me. That fact does not mean I am flawed, contaminated.
I ask this early morning, “What pressures do I receive from the culture I live within that would make me first feel that carrying a story that I am deeply moved to transmit makes me ‘less than’?”
I have written all over this blog that I believe trauma does not let go of humanity until we learn its lessons about how to keep that kind of trauma from ever happening to anyone among us again. I believe that as the story contained within any experience of trauma is both told and listened to with care so that a resolution for that trauma can be found, the trauma will resolve itself. The trauma will heal.
For severe early abusive trauma survivors the portion of healing we can experience by telling the story we carry is realistically limited in many ways. Our body on all levels including our brain has been ‘tampered with’ by trauma that changed how we physiologically developed. There is no magic in this world that will restore our body-brain back to what it SHOULD have been had trauma not grabbed us into its ‘awe-full’ talons when we were born.
Which leads me to tell of the image I ‘feel’ inside my body this morning: This story I have to tell sits inside of me like a waiting eagle. As I give the story words that eagle stretches out its wings and rises from its perch of rest to soar so high I can no longer see it soaring.
I mentioned something someone I name Q emailed to me recently: “The point is, I don’t wish to be involved in your book writing process…. I have a full life and do not wish to be involved with the process – whatever it is. If, on the other hand you ever have anything positive to say about anyone do not hesitate to write me.”
Perhaps if I did not have to justify to myself that I am a carrier of a story that demands I transmit it, I would not have been bothered in the least by what this person had to say. In my next post I will have more to say about “Duct tape for the soul.” That image comes into my thoughts here because I know that my culture struggles with what version of ‘the truth’ we want to hear, want to pay attention to, want to honor, want to listen to, want to learn from. Our culture distracts us or stops us from telling stories it does not want to hear.
At the back-end of a story is an audience. Separating the telling of a story from the reactions of the audience can be a difficult process. At the front-end of a story is the teller-writer. If the story is like this eagle perched within, all I need to do is free the eagle to soar where it will. I do not direct its flight.
It takes courage to let a teaching story out. In my own self-image of the story I carry I draw upon the courage that exists in the story itself. This story I carry comes complete with the courage it takes to tell it. We accompany one another. We are a part of one another. It is my job to set that story free.
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5 thoughts on “+BEING THE CARRIER OF STORY”
As a carrier of trauma I know my body and existence tell the truth.*Shaking my head*, you know Linda… chronic lying is part of us and the lying only demonstrates the truth.Truth is, we are altered. Gingercat does have wisdom when she states, “our societies are opposed to illness.When someone is sick we send them a card with the injunction:Get well soon!Be ok soon!”…we don’t want to accept that one sick individual can take a whole flock down.AND, she’s right, family is dependent on the mother’s well being ( the nurturer). Mom’s down, the whole family becomes chaotic and disorganized. As a society, we should place more importance on the MOTHER
Yes..I guess that’s why truth tellers are scapegoated.. They tell a story that makes others look
At what has hurt them so much in their pasts that they are trying to avoid. Some can’t look,
Some won’t. I love the image of an eagle. I have a friend who has Chronic Fatigue syndrome.
She said the other day isn’t it amazing how our societies are so opposed to illness. When someone
Is sick we send them a card with the injunction: Get well soon! Be ok soon! So we just don’t want
To accept unwholeness/illhealth or anyone telling the truth about the greatest institution: the Family
– especially the Mother.
There’s another connection of import with scapegoat. The ‘pharmacos’ – in ancient times (!!) a village would choose a person to be the pharmacos – to be responsible for all that had gone bad over a period of time – so they could run the pharmacos off a cliff to death. Obvious connection here to our depraved reliance as a civilzation (here at least) on drugs.
I could tell you another story I heard, but might be too spooky for readers!
As a society we look at the tainted individual throw all the sources of contamination on them….”Well, this meat is tainted, it’s bad, let’s isolate it and dispose of it”….they never look up.They never come to their senses and say, “WOW, we’re all eating the same meat, it’s from the same source”! Why don’t we protect and cherish mothers?