Gwynn Raimondi, MA

You can be right or you can be in relationship

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Love rests on two pillars: surrender and autonomy. Our need for togetherness exists alongside our need for separateness. ~Esther Perel, Mating in Captivity: Reconciling the Erotic and the Domestic

You are not always right. It’s not always about being right. The best thing you can offer others is understanding. Being an active listener is about more than just listening, it is about reciprocating and being receptive to somebody else. Everybody has woes. Nobody is safe from pain. However, we all suffer in different ways. So learn to adapt to each person, know your audience and reserve yourself for people who have earned the depths of you. ~Mohadesa Najumi

Many of us who live with complex trauma from childhood have a deep need and want to be heard.  To be seen.  To be acknowledged.  To be noticed. To be understood. Many of us as children weren’t seen or heard or acknowledged.  Or worse, we were gaslit: being told our experiences weren’t “that” bad, or even worse than that, they never happened at all, that we were making it all up.

Our need for belonging, for being seen, for being heard, was not met when we were young.  Most of us learned to become silent.  But that silence was only on the surface, only the mask we wore on the outside.  Our internal experience was loud, it was screaming and howling, whether we consciously acknowledged it or not (and likely, we did not because of dissociation and our need to survive).

We were never taught how to express our emotions in a non-harmful way.  We were never taught how to have disagreements that don’t turn into screaming matches.  We didn’t learn how to listen to others, only to shut down or to argue.  Most likely as children we shut down.  So, as adults, we argue.  Loudly.  Harshly.  Cruelly. 

Our need to be seen and heard and acknowledged and accepted comes out all sideways as we grow older.  We need to be right.  We need to be understood.  But our desperate need to be seen and be right overshadows the other people we are in relationship with.  It overshadows their own needs to be seen and heard and it tramples over our empathy for this.  It actually keeps us out of relationship and getting those needs met for ourselves.

Not our fault.  We were never taught different.  

However.

We have a responsibility to stop causing harm to others, and in turn to stop causing harm to ourselves. To do the work of breaking life-long patterns and disrupting generations-old cycles. To process the trauma within us. To shift.  To do different.

This is not an easy feat.  We typically have generations of trauma and training ingrained in our bodies and being.  We have our own lived experience and those wounds and hurts.  We don’t know other ways of being, and even if we can get a glimmer of how to do something different, we have limited resources to make the internal and external shifts to make that happen. 

This is where our work is.  With our therapists, with our coaches, with ourselves.  It is the slowing down.  Learning to regulate our nervous systems, to understand boundaries, to be able to find our own center and ground.  It is coming home to our bodies and becoming more and more self aware. It is in processing the many traumas that live within us. 

It is a messy and hard road.  We will make mistakes.  We will need to be accountable for those mistakes, apologize, repair, and learn how to not make the same mistakes again.  It will be incredibly uncomfortable as we step into the unknown, as we shed the layers of our own and our ancestors traumas and woundings.  It will be terrifying as we unravel and dislodge those parts of us that aren’t really us, those parts of us that we carry around that were our parents or grandparents or great-grandparents.  It will be discombobulating as we seek out who we are and who we want to be and untangle that from all the hurt and pain.

It will not be a straight journey.  It will go in all directions. 

It is important to acknowledge the unfairness of needing to go on this journey at all.  Of needing to unravel the generations of trauma and wounding.  Of needing to process and heal our own traumas and woundings.  It is not fair.  It is not our fault.  We didn’t ask for it.

 And.

If we want to live our lives in a place of thriving instead of surviving, in a place of connection instead of isolation and dissociation, a place of joy, contentment, and or peace instead of constant pain, hurt, and suffering, we need to make the decision to enter into this work, to do this work, to create the change within ourselves so that we can begin to see the change and shifts in our outer world and in our relationships.

And we need to keep making that choice every day. To break the patterns.  To disrupt the cycles.  To come home to ourselves.  To feel good in our own skin.  To have nourishing, loving, and authentic relationships with our Self and with those around us. 

/../

This essay was originally written for my weekly(ish) newsletter on May 20, 2018. It has been revised and edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, you can subscribe here.

The Discomfort of Slowing Down

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A huge part of recovery and life -is slowing down and accepting the unKNOWN. This is how you get to KNOW –yourself.  ~Brittany Burgunder

A mind that is racing over worries about the future or recycling resentments from the past is ill equipped to handle the challenges of the moment. By slowing down, we can train the mind to focus completely in the present. Then we will find that we can function well whatever the difficulties. That is what it means to be stress-proof: not avoiding stress but being at our best under pressure, calm, cool, and creative in the midst of the storm.  ~Eknath Easwaran, Take Your Time: The Wisdom of Slowing Down

Traumatized people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies: The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. Their bodies are constantly bombarded by visceral warning signs, and, in an attempt to control these processes, they often become expert at ignoring their gut feelings and in numbing awareness of what is played out inside. They learn to hide from their selves.  ~Bessel A. van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma

I created a ritual/meditation practice for myself around Venus retrograde.  There are four questions I’m exploring over the forty-two days of the retrograde cycle.  

My intention is to move slowly through these questions and spend ten full days on each.  Meditating on the cards that came up for each question.  Writing stream of conscious about the themes of the cards and what else comes up for me around the questions.  

Ten days.

After day two of the first question I wanted to move on to the next one.

I told myself I felt “bored.” That I had explored that question enough. That I was fine and could move on to the next thing. I didn’t need to spend a full ten days on that first question.

But that wasn’t totally accurate.  

I know the feeling I was having.  It was akin to anxiety.

It was definitely uncomfortable.

I wanted to get to the next thing.  I didn’t want to stay in the thing I was in.  It was starting to stress me out.

I had the same feeling in therapy a few days before.  A feeling that tells me I’m on the edge of something big, a break through, a release, a deeper understanding, healing.  It’s a feeling I want to run away from.  I don’t like it.  I don’t like being in that quiet, in that stillness, in the here and now present moment, allowing what needs to bubble up to bubble.  

It is so uncomfortable. I want it to stop and go away. I don’t want to stay in it. I don’t want to let it run its course. I want it to just stop.

When we have complex trauma living in our bodies and minds, slowing down, being still, staying in the moment – all this can be incredibly uncomfortable.  Staying focused on one thing, digging into one theme, going down into the depths of our own wounding…  Being in our body, present to it, to the discomfort, to the visceral shifting that happens when we slow down and stay in this moment now.

It is uncomfortable as fuck.

And.

When we can sit in that discomfort, when we can stay present to it, allowing it to flow as it needs to… that is where our healing happens.  That is where breaking patterns happens.  That is where disrupting harmful cycles happens.

That’s why we do this work, right?  To break the patterns and disrupt the cycles.  To do differently than what was done before, what was done to us, what was done around us.  To create relationships and a life and world that aren’t centered around our attachment wounds and trauma, but rather around liberation and mature love.

We are living in a world that has been in slow motion for the past few months.  Our usual distractions unavailable.  Needing to stay home, to not be in the doing-doing-doing of “normal” life.  It has meant slowing down.  Not being distracted and instead learning how to be present, in this moment, right now.  

And for many, this has been highly activating.

Anxiety spiked.  Feeling even less comfortable in your own skin.  Being “antsy,” irritable.  

Wanting so desperately for things to get back to “normal” while also knowing it won’t soon – and having this being that much more activating.  

I invite us all to have compassion for ourselves.  To acknowledge this time can be challenging and stirring up our “stuff”.  To accept that the traumatic events we experienced in the past may be being activated in the present, and while that is not our fault, it is our responsibility to not perpetuate harm. 

I invite us to explore the idea that this discomfort you are feeling can have benefits.  It can be an opportunity to learn how to be be in it, with it, to allow it to flow.  To do a little neural rewiring.  To find ways of being in the quiet.  

This isn’t easy.  It’s not what I would call fun.  It is intense work.  

It asks us to learn self-compassion.  It asks us to be gentle with ourselves.  It asks us to take one moment at a time.  It asks us to move outside our own comfort zone.  

I’m finding myself pushing my own edges.  Expanding.  Finding the places where the next stage in my own growth and healing can happen.

I’m not enjoying it.  And I know this work is important.  When we are able to break patterns and disrupt cycles of harm in ourselves, that ripples out into the world.  It ripples out in our relationships.  We find ourselves being more gentle, with our Self and those in our lives.  We soften, shedding the armor that once kept us safe but now keeps us isolated.  

Learning to be still, to be present, to stop distracting ourselves from the discomfort of processing trauma and healing our wounds, is revolutionary work.  As we shift and change ourselves we also shift and change the world.  Doing this work, of being present, in the here and now, is anti-capitalist, anti-authoritarian, anti-oppression work. It is work that encourages relationship with our Self and helps us to learn to become more intimate with others.

This is how we create the world we want to live in, by starting with ourselves.  

/../

This essay was originally published in my weekly-ish newsletter on May 17, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays and learn of my current online offerings, you can subscribe here.

Communication & Complex Trauma

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Listen with curiosity. Speak with honesty. Act with integrity. The greatest problem with communication is we don’t listen to understand. We listen to reply. When we listen with curiosity, we don’t listen with the intent to reply. We listen for what’s behind the words. ~Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.  ~Fred Rogers

The trauma said, “Don’t write these poems.
Nobody wants to hear you cry
about the grief inside your bones.”

But my bones said, “Tyler Clementi jumped
from the George Washington Bridge
into the Hudson River convinced
he was entirely alone.”

My bones said, “Write the poems.”
~Andrea Gibson,The Madness Vase

One of the most important parts of any relationship is communication.  In order for there to be good communication, both people need to be able to express themselves verbally, in a relatively non-defensive and non-abusive or non-harmful manner.  Both parties need to be able to take the risk of being vulnerable, of expressing their wants and needs.  Both parties also need to be able to truly listen and hear what the other person is trying to communicate to us.

This of course makes sense.  I believe this is what most of us strive for.  

But it is so fucking hard in practice.

It’s challenging because we each have trauma coursing through our bodies, living in our nervous systems. We each received messaging, either overtly or subvertly, that our wants and needs don’t matter, that we should just be happy if someone loves us and not complain.

Many of us learned in one way or another that expressing our wants or needs is actually dangerous.  Perhaps we were physically abused for crying or “whining.”  Perhaps we witnessed siblings or one of our caregivers receiving violence for expressing themselves.  Perhaps our bids for affection were met with coldness or further isolation.  Perhaps we were ridiculed for being “sensitive” or “weak” or “soft.”

Regardless of the specific whys, we got the message loud and clear that expressing our wants and needs wasn’t okay, wasn’t acceptable, wasn’t safe.  

So, it makes sense that as adults we have a very challenging time expressing our wants and needs.  

It makes sense it is challenging.  

It doesn’t make sense that we may (unconsciously) expect others to be mind readers. 

How many times have you thought or said or heard “Well, if they loved me they’d know what’s wrong!”?  Or “I shouldn’t have to tell you why I’m upset, you should know!”  

This narrative is actually a cloak for our own hurt and fear that our own feelings don’t matter.  That we don’t matter to the other person (and look, there’s proof!  They can’t read our mind!).  That we aren’t actually lovable.

Learning to communicate in productive, connecting ways takes practice. Lots of practice. It requires us to look at and work through some of our own wounding.  It requires us to come into our bodies so we can have some felt sense around what is happening for us – if past wounds are being poked, if something new is growing, if it’s a combination of both (usually it’s a combination).  

It takes practice to become curious and ask questions instead of making assumptions about what another person is thinking or feeling.  

It takes practice to actually ask another person if they can meet a want or need of ours in that moments, instead of demanding it from them.

It takes practice communicating our desires and boundaries without expectations for how the other “should” respond.

This all takes practice.  It takes patience, from all parties.  It takes messing up and getting it all wrong.  It takes a willingness to be vulnerable, to take some risks in sharing something a bit more intimate about ourselves.

This is what it means to break patterns and cycles.  It requires us to actually do the very messy and challenging and uncomfortable work of disrupting these generations old ways of relating that cause harm, to the others, to our relationships, and ultimately to our Self.

It not glorious work.  It isn’t fun.  It can be painful.  As we disrupt these patterns, we will likely lose people.  There will be grief.  There will be days we just don’t want to do it anymore.  

And. 

There will be days when we realize we are in a situation where once we would have lost our shit and here we are, relatively calm, figuring it out.

There will be days we feel such intense joy and happiness that all we can do is cry.

There will be days where we know, deep in our bones, how cherished we are, how loved we are, how lovable we are.

Both and.

Yes it is intense work.  And in my personal experience, it is so intensely worth it. 

/../

This essay was originally written for my weekly-ish newsletter on May 10, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays and learn about my online offerings, you can subscribe here.

Breaking patterns, disrupting cycles, & accountability

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Healing can only happen when people are willing to shift.  ~Iyanla Vanzant

Much too often, our minds are used to somewhat efficiently excuse and justify old patterns, when the same energy and efforts could go towards the creating of new ones. Our society is, meanwhile, deeply enamored with technological creation, invention, and marvels. Many of these technological advancements assist with life as it is, however, the creation of new patterns of behavior and ways of life remains largely unexplored.  ~Sabina Nore, 22 Triggers

True accountability is not only apologizing, understanding the impact your actions have caused on yourself and others, making amends or reparations to the harmed parties; but most importantly, true accountability is changing your behavior so that the harm, violence, abuse does not happen again. ~Mia Mingus

Looking back on my thirteen years of motherhood, there is so much I would do different, if I could go back in time and start all over again.  There were so many mistakes.  So much I got wrong.  So many patterns and cycles that I continued.  So many I am still working on breaking.

And.

There is so much I got right, and I would do it the same way again.  There were patterns I have been able to break, cycles I have been able to disrupt.

It is the both and.

All our relationships are often like that.

There are moments we look back on and wish with every fiber of our being we had made another choice, done something different.  And then there are the moments that we look back on and breathe a sigh of yes, that one, that I got right.

Hindsight is nearly always 20/20.  Looking back we have a clearer view of those moments, the ones that mattered, the ones that didn’t.  The ones that were defining, the ones that weren’t.  The ones that didn’t feel significant at the time, but turned out to be.  Those moments we didn’t know would be the last, the times we thought we would always have another chance, more time, but it didn’t turn out that way.  

We all carry within us patterns and cycles passed on to us by our families of origin, by our genetic ancestors, and by our culture. We have a choice, to a certain degree, to break and disrupt those cycles, to create change, to do different than what was done to us, to do different than what was done before.

I say to a certain degree, because we can’t break a pattern unless we become aware of it.  This requires not only our ability to look back at past generations, but also an ability to look objectively at ourselves.

We need to be able to see the ways we have perpetuated these cycles.  The ways we have continued the patterns.  

This requires us to have a certain level of self-awareness.  I believe it also requires us to have the ability to give ourselves self-compassion, to not dive into shame spirals and defensiveness.  To be able to explain the whys of the harm we ourselves have participated in, but not make excuses for it.

There are no excuses for causing harm to others, or ourselves for that matter.  Regardless of what was done to us in the past.  Regardless of what was done to our ancestors.

In order to break these patterns and cycles we need to be willing to hold ourselves accountable.  

Accountability, has four basic components.**  These are:

  • Self reflection
  • Apology
  • Repair
  • Changed behavior 

**From Mia Mingus

We need to be willing, and able, to do all four.  It requires our ability to be wrong, and to actually change our behavior in the future. And in order to change behaviors, we need to do the work of unraveling, untangling, and processing the trauma that lives within us.  

It is not glamorous or fun work.

It is work most people avoid doing.  I get it.  I understand why.  It is hard and brutal to process the trauma that lives within us.  To do the accompanying grief work.  To move into liminal space and unknown territory of doing different.  Of making change.  

Of actually breaking and disrupting, and not repeating and perpetuating, old patterns and cycles of harm. 

Even in the this work of doing different, we will still get some things wrong.  Which is why self-compassion is so important.  Which is why accountability, and our own willingness to go deep within ourselves and look at our own shadows, is so important.  Which is why we need to remember that we are all only human, to make space for forgiveness when appropriate (and I do not believe it is always appropriate). 

I have spent the last thirteen years practicing accountability with my daughter. Believe me, there have been ample opportunities for me to practice! And almost daily there are more opportunities. I practice it with my son.  I am learning to practice it with my friends and lovers.

Accountability is vulnerable.  It is a vulnerable space to move into admitting we have caused harm and taking ownership of it.  It requires that we be able to hold the disappointment, hurt, and or frustration that we caused, of someone we love; and it requires that we process our own grief that comes with it.

It all takes intention, practice, and time.  Life will give us plenty of opportunities.  A vital piece is remembering the importance of doing our own work of breaking the patterns and cycles still alive in us, in between each new opportunity.  

This is how we create change in the world :: by doing our individual work and the work of healing and creating a loving relationships with those in our lives.  It means we will each be in the wrong, and this needs to be okay in the sense that we accept our responsibility and do the work of repair and change.

/../

This essay was originally published in my weekly(ish) newsletter on April 12, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, you can subscribe here.

We’ll be exploring these ideas in the seven week course Embodied Writing :: Relating, Relationships, & Trauma. You can learn more and register here.

 

Activated, softening, or both

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The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one’s own.  ~Willa Cather

If we turn away from our own pain, we may find ourselves projecting this aversion onto others, seeing them as somehow inadequate for being in a troubled situation. ~Sharon Salzberg, Real Love: The Art of Mindful Connection

Traumatized people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies: The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. Their bodies are constantly bombarded by visceral warning signs, and, in an attempt to control these processes, they often become expert at ignoring their gut feelings and in numbing awareness of what is played out inside. They learn to hide from their selves. ~Bessel A. van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma

We cannot have a world where everyone is a victim. “I’m this way because my father made me this way. I’m this way because my husband made me this way.” Yes, we are indeed formed by traumas that happen to us. But then you must take charge, you must take over, you are responsible.  ~Camille Paglia

Many of us across the globe are staying home in an attempt to flatten the curve of the spread of the COVID-19 pandemic.  We aren’t leaving for work or play.  We are within our four walls every day of the week, almost every single hour – with the occasional exception to leave and get groceries or other necessities.  

This can have us all a little stir crazy.  Developing “cabin fever” as we are also trying to manage the stress of the present along with any old traumas that may be activated right now because of what is happening both out in the world and with our own friends and families.

The stress, frustration, and grief centered around the present moments mixed with the same around our past wounding, can lead us to not always being our best selves.  

We don’t have much control over the current global pandemic.  We can each do our own part to try to flatten the curve and stay home as much as possible and to practice physical distancing when we are out and about.  And that is all any of us can do.

This lack of control may have us agitated.  

Add to this all our usual distractions aren’t available to us – sports broadcasts have halted, bars are closed, as are restaurants and retail stores. The ways we avoid, ignore, and stuff down our feelings; the ways we avoid dealing with our past and current hurts, pain, and trauma – they are mostly gone.  

This leaves us almost no other choice than to sit with our own stuff.

This too, can be highly agitating.

In our own agitation we may find ourselves being short with others.  We may find ourselves picking fights. We may find ourselves stuck in a cycle of blame and shame – blaming another for how we are feeling and acting while also feeling shame around how we feeling and acting.

We are in an unprecedented time.  This can be a time of healing – if we allow it to be.  This can be a time to begin to learn to sit with our own uncomfortable feelings (emotions and their physical sensations) – if we allow it to be. This can be a time of learning and practicing breaking life long and generations old patterns and cycles of harm – to ourselves and others — if we allow it to be. 

Many of us are in a heightened state of activation.  This true. It is also true that even with this, we are still responsible for our actions. For the ways we treat those close to us. For the ways we show up, for ourselves and for others.  For the ways we use this time, when all our go-to distractions are unavailable.  

And while many of us are in a heightened state of activation, it is also true that many of us are in a heightened state of softening.  That our hearts are breaking open even more, that the remaining bits of our hard armor are falling away, that we are in this time gently shifting into new ways of being with each other and with ourselves. 

And it is true that for many of us, we are moving back and forth between heightened activation and softening.

As we move through these challenging and unprecedented times, I invite us to come back into our bodies, to be present to the myriad of conflicting and complimentary emotions and physiological sensations we are experiencing.  I invite us to seek out new ways of being with ourselves, to find ways to break old harmful patterns and cycles.  I invite us to soften, to become gentler, with ourselves and others.  I invite us to find ways to inner peace within the outer chaos.  I invite us to nurture, to provide loving care, to ourselves and others. 

I invite us to a new way of being in the world.  One that gathers together in community, even when we cannot physically gather.  One that cares for one another instead of only looking out for ourselves.  One that shares in the abundance instead hoard out of fear of scarcity.  One that guides us to peace and love and joy as well as creates space for feeling, processing, and allowing the flow of upset, loss, and grief.

Let us all be a part of a global revolution of change.  To acknowledge our fear and to do it anyway. To step into the unknown, with open hearts and open arms -for ourselves, for others, and for our planet.  

/../

This essay was originally published in my weeklyish newsletter on April 4, 2020. It has been revised and edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, subscribe here.

In Embodied Writing :: Relating, relationships, and trauma we will be exploring how trauma impacts our relationships and ways that we can begin to break (often generations old) patterns and cycles. You can learn more and register here.