Meditation for Trauma Healing

a woman sitting on a dock in front of a body of water.

Sometimes, when people ask me what I do for a living and I’m in the right kind of mood, I tell them I’m a tour guide through the realm of emotional pain. This is a sassy and, perhaps, slightly macabre way of describing myself and my work, but it’s an honest one. As a mindfulness-based psychotherapist and self-aware wounded healer, I know that keeping people company while they make contact with their own wounds is the most significant part of what I do. And it’s something I do with great reverence for the people who choose me to take the journey with them.

These people, my beloved clients, often seek me out in the midst of great suffering. Many of them have gone through dramatic and traumatic life experiences that interrupt their lives and negatively impact their functioning. When they arrive to their first session, many of them fight to hold back tears; they make visible efforts to hold themselves together, showing just how much life energy they’ve been expending to avoid falling apart. Once they know it’s safe to surrender, they allow themselves to reveal the pain they’ve been holding—and it’s heavy. In this beautiful clearing, they allow me to join with them and begin the healing process.

Often, clients come to see me because they know I incorporate mindfulness and meditation in the therapeutic process. Some of them have heard about meditation or been encouraged to try it, and they arrive eager to access anything that will give them some relief. Naturally, they assume that meditation will help them clear their minds and get free from the internal chaos that’s causing them so much anguish. This heartens me, as I know the abundant healing potential meditation holds. But in almost every case, I bookmark that chapter of our work together until a later time. Here’s why.

Meditation can be a remarkably effective tool that aids in the healing process. A regular practice has been found to calm the sympathetic nervous system, thus reducing the fight-or-flight response associated with trauma and post-traumatic stress. It’s also been shown to produce structural and functional brain changes that support healing. But it isn’t always advisable for survivors of trauma to hop onto the cushion right away. In fact, practicing without attending to other things first can actually interfere with and complicate the healing process.

If you practice meditation, you know that the notion of the mind getting quiet is a complete fallacy. Our brains simply aren’t wired to go silent whenever we want them to—if they could, traumas could be resolved pretty rapidly, and a whole lot of human suffering would be eliminated. Instead, what tends to happen when we enter the practice is that we become even more aware of what’s swirling around inside us. For people who’ve experienced traumas, this can be terrifying. Thoughts, emotions, and memories that are already troubling under normal circumstances can become overwhelming in the silent space that meditation opens.

The experience of trauma is characterized by intense fear that comes from a real or perceived direct threat to our survival. This kicks our nervous system into high gear and has a lasting psychological and emotional impact. After the initial event, trauma survivors often experience severe anxiety, intrusive thoughts, unpleasant physiological symptoms, emotional detachment, and unwanted flashbacks of the initial event. Without a proper foundation in place, meditation can amplify these experiences instead of alleviating them.

Here’s where that thing I said earlier about being a tour guide comes into play. It isn’t always safe to turn inward unaccompanied until we’ve done some work on being able to settle into ourselves. Research supports that meditation can be an integral part of the trauma healing process when accompanied or preceded by talk therapy or other forms of intentional interpersonal support. By consciously addressing the trauma, survivors learn how to revisit the traumatic event without become re-traumatized by it. They learn a variety of tools that help them cope with daily life and reestablish a sense of safety and security. While therapy isn’t a panacea for trauma, it provides a solid foundation that can be built upon and bolstered by practices like meditation.

Having had more than one traumatic experience in my own life, I can say that meditation is something I was able to adopt and embrace only after I did some conscious sorting out of my internal material. Through therapy and other more deliberate and directive healing modalities, I prepared myself to sit in silence, be present to my experience, and make direct contact with my thoughts and emotions. This is the space I aim to co-create and hold for my clients. Once they’ve walked through the pain and gotten familiar with the landscape, they can access the power and potential of meditation, cultivating serenity and taking their healing to new depths.

When we’ve done the work of acknowledging and addressing our traumas, meditation and mindfulness can help us get back into our bodies. These practices can serve as a profound form of empowerment, revealing to us the capacity we have for healing ourselves and learning to thrive again. They invite us to begin shining light over the parts of ourselves that were cast into darkness; they allow us to reclaim those parts and become whole again.

Serving as a means of retraining our brains and deepening our connection to ourselves, meditation offers significant benefits for anyone who’s experienced trauma. It helps us safely self-monitor, notice our thoughts, soothe ourselves, anchor our attention, breathe into discomfort, confidently encounter strong emotions, and securely inhabit our bodies and minds. Through a combination of therapy and meditation, I’ve seen countless clients move from victimhood to empowerment. I’ve seen chronic drug users who’d do anything to numb the pain release their attachments to substances and learn to comfortably live in their own skin. I’ve seen suffering transformed through the power of the practice, wielded by individuals who know they’re ready to turn the gaze inward.

Meditation holds the promise of opening our hearts and transmuting our pain into loving awareness and a deepened sense of compassion for ourselves and others. Through the practice, we learn to make space for the traumatic events we’ve endured and integrate them into our story. We learn to accommodate every aspect of that story. Because the truth is, our lives are richly complex experiences; they contain darkness as well as light, sorrow as well as joy. And when we learn to accept this fundamental truth, that life is everything, we can release our attachments and access our freedom.

Mind Your Presence; It Matters

a view of tall trees in a forest.

I once worked with a client who sought therapy in the midst of an uncomfortable conflict; she came to me to help her way think and feel her way through her conundrum and find some resolution. During our first session together, this bright, confident woman openly shared her struggle with me. She explained that she was in a monogamous relationship with her high school sweetheart but recently found herself falling in love with someone who worked in her office building. Although she loved her partner dearly, she was intrigued by the “newness” of this other man.

When she arrived for the first session, this client appeared distraught and dejected, and she described the way she was feeling in more or less the same way. I asked her if she had talked about what she was experiencing with anyone else. She said she told two of her girlfriends, both of whom admonished her for being unfaithful and urged her to stop talking to the other man. She also spoke with her older sister, who suggested that she leave her partner, because “it isn’t natural to be with the same person for so long.”

At the end of the session, the client thanked me enthusiastically and told me she had found our time together to be profoundly helpful. I reminded her that I didn’t do much, and she acknowledged it. She said, “That’s mostly why it helped. You were the first person who just sat with me and let me sort through it out loud. I think all I really needed was to be able to come to my own conclusion, and you made it possible for me to do that.”  What she said next was, for me, quite significant: “Sometimes it’s a person’s presence that makes all the difference.” I couldn’t agree with her more.

We live in divisive times, which complicates and challenges our capacity to communicate clearly and compassionately with each other. It’s all too easy to get so committed to one way of looking at things that any other view becomes impossible to acknowledge, let alone accept. This makes for interactions that are guarded, at best, and destructive, at worst. Whether discussing politics or conversing over cocktails about the stories of our lives, we all run the risk of letting our judgments interfere with our ability to connect with others—even if those so-called others are people we know and love.

When my client appreciated my being present with her, I felt both gratified and grateful. It served to remind me of why I first felt called to this work, and it affirmed my own belief in the power of presence. Many people have the experience of holding back from expressing themselves or vocalizing whatever they’re going through out of fear that they’ll be criticized or ostracized. Unfortunately, this fear often stems from past experience, as it isn’t uncommon for people to have difficulty responding with curiosity and care when what they’re hearing doesn’t jibe with their personal beliefs.

I think that most people—whatever their preferences or principles might be—can get behind the notion that the world would benefit from more peace and understanding. But regardless of how monumental it might seem to accomplish that, it starts in small and simple ways. It starts with you and me, right here and now. Even the smallest and subtlest interactions can make a world of difference; added together, they’ll make the world different.

I invite you to consider how you can begin to get intentional about the way you show up in the interpersonal encounters of your daily life. Here are some ideas to support your efforts to cultivate a more supportive presence.

  • It’s not always what you say. Sometimes it’s how you say it, and other times, it’s what you don’t say that matters most. Be as aware of the ways in which you communicate—through your tone, timing, and body language, for example—as you are of the words you use. And remember that you don’t have to speak to be beneficial. By being willing to keep company with someone who needs it, you’re already making a remarkable difference.
  • Get curious. As I’ve mentioned in this blog before, curiosity is the antidote to many of the damaging ways we might be inclined to treat one another. When someone is sharing anything with you, they’re demonstrating some degree of courage and vulnerability. When you can lean in with curiosity rather than pull back in fear or disgust, you allow the person to feel seen, heard, and understood. That goes a long way.
  • Practice genuine listening. Listen to understand, rather than to respond. When it comes to being a good listener, most people have room for improvement. Sure, it can be difficult to set aside whatever you might want to say in order to really listen to what another person is saying to you. But focusing on forming a response to what you’re hearing makes it so that you’re not really receiving what’s being shared with you—and that comes across. Listening, like most things, is a skill that can be acquired and refined with practice. Challenge yourself to become fully immersed in the act of listening, trusting all the while that your chance to speak will come, and other people’s willingness to listen will improve as a function of your having been so fully present for them.
  • You can’t go wrong with kindness. At the end of the day, what most people want is to be treated with respect and understanding. You don’t have to be the most articulate person in the world to be a source of tremendous support to other people. All you have to be is willing enough to keep people company and radiate warmth and kindness while you do it. If you’ve ever been going through something difficult, you know how much another person’s kindness can contribute to turning things around. Be that person for others.
  • Concern yourself less with whether you agree or disagree and more with how the exchange transpires. In our current social context, voicing an opinion and seeking to be right often seems more important than connecting with other people and exchanging ideas. The truth is, we don’t always have to agree in order to keep good company with each other. In fact, there’s immeasurable value in viewing things differently; it creates opportunities for learning and growth. But that can only happen if both people mind their presence and show up to the exchange with a willingness to be curious, compassionate, collegial, and kind.

In our current times, it can be easy to get discouraged by the state of human affairs. It might be tempting to lose hope or become hardened to others, choosing separation over connection. But I urge you to have the fortitude to be a source of light in the world. Take small but significant actions toward being more present for others—as well as for yourself—and start to watch your interactions transform in surprising and inspiring new ways.

Making Friends With Fear

a boat floating on top of a lake at night.

“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.”
– Eleanor Roosevelt

This week’s post begins with a confession. When I first sat down to write this, I wound up spending a good amount of time staring at the blank word processor page in front of me, struggling to come up with a way to start this post. Something told me I needed to write about fear, but I wasn’t sure why, and I wasn’t sure how. Not feeling particularly inspired, I temporarily gave up. I toggled over to my web browser and decided to scroll through Facebook for a bit. In less than 30 seconds’ time, I was inundated with news headlines announcing another suicide bombing, this time in Lahore; videos featuring political mudslinging, with countless incendiary comments underneath; invitations to join groups taking action against threats to our natural environment; and more than a couple status updates reflecting negative views of the world and pessimistic thoughts about the future. After stepping away from the computer for a while to center myself and gather my thoughts, I came back to say this:

We have every reason to be afraid.  

I don’t mean to be discouraging or dramatic; I’m merely pointing out the undeniable reality of what it means to live in the world today. Everywhere we turn we’re flooded with news that calls into question our safety and security. Naturally, this evokes fear—the kind of fear that has the potential to overwhelm us and steal our peace.

On some level, all of us are affected by the current climate of fear, and without realizing it, we’re likely participating in perpetuating it. That’s because fear spreads and expands in the form of a giant feedback loop: Individuals experience fear and act with the intention to defend themselves against whatever caused that fear; these actions produce fear in other people, which leads them to react defensively; those actions spur more fear and more defensive reactions; and on, and on, and on we go.

The cycle of fear that we’re currently living in is facilitated by the technology that gives us instant access to information, and the media that delivers the information to us in particular ways. While it’s good to know what’s happening in the world, staying informed has a downside: It’s hard to avoid becoming fearful, anxious, or even paranoid when we’re constantly besieged by reasons to feel afraid. But we have a choice. We don’t have to keep participating in the cycle of fear.

How do we break the cycle of fear?

To understand how to break the cycle, we must first understand the nature of fear. The truth is, fear is an evolutionarily adaptive mechanism that keeps us alive. It’s an emotion designed to allow living beings to react to anything that threatens their survival. In the most simplistic sense, it works like this: When something in your environment provokes fear, your brain and body rev up to prepare you to respond by fighting, fleeing, or freezing.

While the fear response system is designed to help us survive, it’s not without its drawbacks—the biggest being that we experience fear and act to defend ourselves even when our survival isn’t being threatened. Just anticipating that something might threaten us is enough to make us fearful and reactive. It’s important to know this if we want to learn how to do fear differently.

When it comes to fear, what we need to determine is not how we can avoid feeling it, but rather how we can learn to develop a healthy relationship with it. As challenging as this may be, it creates the potential for a much more peaceful, much less reactionary existence.

So what does a healthy relationship with fear look like?

In my view, it’s a relationship that’s characterized by three fundamental qualities: Curiosity, Compassion, and Courage.

Curiosity – When we are overwhelmed by fear and anxiety, our minds seek certainty in an attempt to stabilize and feel safe again. Since what we tend to fear are things that are unfamiliar or unknown to us, our initial instinct may be to recoil or shut down. But it doesn’t have to be this way. We are capable of responding differently to the things—or people—that stoke our fear. Instead of allowing the emotion to repel us from that which makes us afraid, we have the choice to get curious about it instead. You see, curiosity is an incredible antidote to fear. When we are curious, we enter a childlike state of wonderment. We open ourselves up to discovering something new, allowing ourselves to be inquisitive and exploratory. When we learn to respond to our fearful instincts by soothing ourselves with curiosity, we loosen fear’s grip on us.

Compassion – As I mentioned earlier, humans have built-in mechanisms that prepare our bodies to fight (or freeze, or flee) when something threatens our survival. Thankfully, we don’t have too many immediate threats to our survival these days; but even feeling threatened is enough to make us act defensively. As our fight-or-flight mechanism starts pumping adrenaline through our system, we might find that other emotions—like annoyance, anger, disgust, aggressiveness, or contempt—start to make an appearance. In no time, our fear can become rage. The implications of this can be devastating—many of our current news headlines are proof of this. But once again, we have options. We don’t have to relate to fear this way. We can learn to respond to the things we fear with a sense of compassion. Of course, this isn’t easy. It takes effort and practice. But when we can extend compassionate kindness to the things we fear, aiming to accept them as they are, we make it possible for the fear to dissipate. Building a compassionate relationship with fear also means extending compassion toward ourselves whenever we feel fearful. There’s no denying that life can be scary, and fear is a natural human response. It’s important that we allow ourselves to feel the emotion of fear without becoming overwhelmed by it or judging ourselves for feeling it.

Courage – Something beautiful happens when instead of turning away from the things that make us fearful, we begin to move toward them instead. But this is no easy feat. It takes remarkable courage. Many people believe that to have courage means to live without fear; but that isn’t the case. Living courageously means acknowledging that the fear is there, taking a breath, and moving forward anyway. The world can be a terrifying place, and there’s no doubt we live in uncertain times. But we don’t have to be consumed by terror. We don’t have to close ourselves off from the things we are uncertain about. We can, as Eleanor Roosevelt said, learn to look fear in the face. And when we do, we will surely find that beautiful things start to happen.

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.”Jack Canfield

Why Even Kindness Needs Constraints

a woman standing in a field of tall grass.

The New York Times recently featured an online piece entitled “A Daughter Too Kind for Her Own Good.” The compelling article, written by a mother about her elementary school aged daughter, introduces a subject that women, in general, and mothers, in particular, are likely to find meaningful. In essence, the author raises the question: How much kindness is too much?

Most of us would agree that kindness is a desirable quality. We tend to want others to be kind to us, so we practice the Golden Rule, treating others as we would like to be treated. But, as the author of the article suggests, this kind of compassion has its limits when it means lacking assertiveness with others. By observing her daughter’s response to an interaction with one of her peers, she recognized that her daughter’s kindheartedness—the same virtue that she, as a mother, had taught and encouraged— was leading her to tolerate meanness from others. It was causing her to neglect her own feelings and needs.

This article is an important cause for consideration among all of us, but especially those of us who have been taught to be kind at all costs. While being generally loving and accepting is an asset, it’s important to recognize when it’s appropriate to set boundaries with others. We must learn when to assert ourselves and be deliberate about practicing it—especially when it doesn’t come naturally.

There’s no denying that we are at our best when we are good to others; we just can’t forget to be good to ourselves.

Check out the article here.