A couple of weeks ago in July, I was a counselor at a bereavement camp for kids up in the mountains of Colorado. Even though it was my second year, it still totally took my breath away to drive up to the scenic view, complete with rustic wooden cabins nestled in the midst. The beauty, for me, however, isn’t just in the picturesque scene, but also in the super hard work and deep relationships that take place at Camp Comfort, intended for emotional support.
Literally in the middle of the 1st night, there was a minor emergency that I needed to immediately resolve without disturbing the peace. The hardest part, actually, was that I needed to quietly navigate through a cabin in the dark, without waking up 25 really-insanely-hard-to-get-to-sleep 3-6 year old girls and their exhausted counselors. My flashlight was also playing a winning game of hide and seek, so I was acutely aware of each and every sound my body made as I navigated through the dark maze.
As I was coming down the old, creaky, wooden stairs, back to our room, it made me think how my intense need to keep as quiet as possible was not much unlike an emotional healing process. Sometimes in pitch black, potentially full of splinters, not so comfortable, and, well, audible when least expected. However, still ultimately headed somewhere brighter.
Here are some sounds of progress that I have heard over the last two weeks:
“I was… wrong & I am very sorry.”
“It hurts, and I need help”
“I really miss my mommy”
“I thought I was all alone”
Words of repentance, words admitting a need for interdependence, and words that show the true beauty of raw honesty are all part of a collective chorus towards freedom. In my experience, healing & recovery is rarely quiet, or without squeaks & creaks along the way. However, I am trying to remember, that for myself as well as for my friends, that there is so much power in the journey, not just the ethereal destination. My hope is that we listen well to and for the sounds of healing in each other; in ourselves.
What do you hear when you think of the “sound of progress” in your life?
Stacy, I love your beautiful story and the connection to healing and recovery. I also had a remarkable moment this past week that brought “a sound of progress”, growth and healing. I manage a shelter that houses women and children who are survivors of domestic abuse, child abuse, sexual assault and other trauma causing incidents. Recently we had a family with us, a mother and two little boys, who had suffered unmentionable acts of violence. The trauma experienced by these children was so intense, that myself and other staff had tried everything to comfort and ease the affects of this trauma. The behavior of the children was extreme, painful acting out. The mother, in trauma herself was having a difficult time coping. I had heard her singing from time to time, as she did dishes and laundry, and she had an absolutely beautiful voice. I asked her if she sang to the boys. She said that she did when they were babies, but it had become “not allowed” in her home while she lived with her abusive husband. Nurturing and love was not to be shared with her children or she was punished for it. Last Monday evening, the boys were really acting out, and this mother had been trying to put them to bed for over two hours. I had been assisting her, but also was trying to empower her to develop the skills she needed as she would be out on her own soon. I left her for awhile and returned to my office which was directly above her bedroom, and as I sat there somewhat frustrated and searching for a solution I heard her begin to sing. Her voice was so beautiful, and it flowed peacefully, gracefully, throughout the shelter. I sat at my desk and listened, and I felt the calm overtake the previous agitation and wildness of the evening. Soon the boys had calmed, and then had fallen asleep. I knew at that moment that this mother, and her boys had found something that was healing to them all. Throughout all of her trauma, chaos and frustration, she had remembered her voice. It was an amazing moment that I will not ever forget. It reminded me that no matter how difficult a challenge we may face, there is always a calm and reassuring voice that heals us. The women and children I see everyday are a testament to human’s ability to survive and thrive, even after days of depair. This isn’t just about their healing and recovery. It is also about my own. I feel so blessed to experience these joyful triumphs.
I love your stories…
What is a story in your very own life— a story of interdependence– a moment of raw honesty when you reached out and needed that reassuring voice or sound of progress? Tell me one of those stories. :0)
Hi Robbie: I loveeeeed reading your story, and thank you so much for taking the time to type it out. I especially loved this line: “Throughout all of her trauma, chaos and frustration, she had remembered her voice.” YES. Really, though, that is incredibly beautiful. I hope to hear more and more insights into your world, and it was SO good seeing you on Saturday night!!!
Hi Tam: Thanks for reading. Oh, girrrrrl, I have *puh-lenty* of stories of needing others, and lotsa reassurance. Get a Diet Pepsi in me, and I will talk for hours and hours.
wow, are we quite the story teller! you have a wonderful way to “connect the dots” with story and life and weird stuff happening. grateful you are part of our little family. love, karl