Working Towards Un-Stuckness

The thing about trauma is that it comes upon us without an invitation. We are often blind-sided by the shocking, scary, or dangerous event. Though our agency gets stripped, even torn, from us, the process of healing from the trauma requires us to actively engage in it, to have agency. It feels really crappy - you didn’t have a choice when your spirit was broken yet suddenly you’re left standing there, gazing upon the shards of your spirit just laying there on the floor. 

What do you do? I guess in the most literal sense of this metaphor you can clean up the pieces, sweep them into the garbage; you can walk away from the pieces; or you can attempt to piece together using some adhesive. In the first two responses, you essentially abandon your spirit. In the latter, you take a step toward reclaiming your spirit, not knowing what may come in that process. But in order to even get to the “DO-ing,” you have to get unstuck. Someone recently unpacked PTSD in the simplest way to me: after the traumatic event, we are pushed into a space of stress, where we are stuck in a flight, fright, or freeze state.

So how do we get “unstuck”? This is a question I have recently been reflecting on. First, I have to acknowledge my trauma (firsthand & secondary). Here’s my effort to be completely vulnerable in this space: my trauma encompasses a lot crap - from childhood experiences to family dynamics to my professional journey working within unjust & oppressive systems as well as sustained struggle with self-worth derived in physical appearance and lastly, relational heartbreak and betrayal. As an urban educator, I convinced myself that I need to power through because showing up was more important, even if that meant my whole self was not present. As a Korean-American, I adopted learned behavior to suppress, contain, and perhaps look past painful experiences because of the societal expectation of assuming the model minority posture and the internal expectation of making parents proud so that their sacrifices for the American dream would be honored. 

Reckoning my trauma is closely connected to my faith; it is a reminder that I am not in control and my identity is grounded in a God much bigger than the traumatic experiences I have endured. I am not my trauma. When I stop trying to move forward from the place of my other identities, and the starting point shifts, there is a hope and strength grounded in an all-powerful God. From here, I am able to face my trauma and take steps to being unstuck.

There have been different rhythms I have assumed along my life journey that have allowed me to be unstuck in some measure: counseling, running, journaling, prayer, “safe-space” friends... The thing about trauma is, it’s never linear, fluid, clean. One thing happens, and we might begin on a healing journey, and then another curveball hits… I’ve felt this way my whole life and have found myself in a dark cloud of “Why me [again]?” I have found ways to remain in a posture to embrace hardships and setbacks as part of my story, however, I find it critical to also maintain a lifestyle of “unstuck-ness.” 

For me, I am learning that this looks like intentional engagement in three specific life-giving rhythms:

1. Nature: Spending time in God’s natural creations creates a space for me to exhale. The immensity of the beauty seen and experienced in the presence of water, sunrises, mountains, trees, & so on, captures my soul and grounds my identity in God. It’s breathtaking, and [re]acquaints me to a God who has both created that beauty and me. There is reason for hope, courage, and strength in that. (I have a weekly standing friend date to watch the sunrise at the lakefront, no matter the time of year.)
2. Movement: Engaging in purposeful movement connects me to my body, increasing an awareness of what is going on throughout my body, without a false or empty connection to shame, worry, or anxiety, emotions I often attach to anything related to my physical self. Awareness also invites a sense of ownership and embracing of my body. (I have been able to embrace these purposeful movements especially through yoga and dance.)  
3. Reading: Stimulating my brain through intentional texts that speak on experiences I’ve encountered becomes a calming and learning process. These texts might address the actual experiences or the emotional & mental health implications of the experiences. It might be faith-based or self-help, informational or journal articles; whatever the case, there is healing in uncovering knowledge rather than side-stepping. (Brene Brown’s books have especially been life-giving.)

Filling my soul. Engaging my body. Calming my brain. 

I am learning that intentional rhythms that are life-giving (vs. soul-sucking) and connect my soul-body-brain allows me to be in my journey of “unstuck” living. This is not a shield from future traumatic experiences and events, but these rhythms allow me to face those shards, pick it up piece by piece, and re-piece them into my spirit. And though it may not resemble the original, it holds a new story, and I honor my spirit with strength and boldness.

11.10.19 During a hike at Indiana Dunes State Park.