Author: Lauri Ann Lumby

Not Everything is a Trigger

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

The other day I was accused of having been “triggered” by a comment that was shared on Facebook. According to definition, a trigger is:

a stimulus that elicits a reaction. In the context of mental illness, “trigger” is often used to mean something that brings on or worsens symptoms. This often happens to people with a history of trauma or who are recovering from mental illness, self-harm, addiction, and/or eating disorders.  (https://campushealth.unc.edu/)

What I experienced was not a trigger. Instead, it was something else entirely.

Here’s what happened. Someone on Facebook initiated a post that said, “if you have to refill your prescription, this is proof it’s not working.”  The post then went on to suggest that there was some alternative path that would cure the condition for which one is taking a pharmaceutical medication.

First of all, this statement is medically incorrect. Secondly, I find it dangerous and irresponsible for someone who calls themselves a medical practitioner to make these kinds of claims. As one who relies on certain pharmaceuticals for my survival, I felt compelled to share my personal experience. That is all I did.  I didn’t tell them they were wrong. I didn’t slander or insult them.  I simply stated that in my personal experience, and for me personally, prescription medication is often helpful and sometimes necessary. I then explained my condition (polycystic kidney disease), along with all the alternative and wholistic treatments that I have and continue to utilize, thereby providing an integrated approach to my care. I am a sound advocate of authentic wholistic treatments and practitioners of these modalities. I also recognize that allopathic medicine has its place and is necessary in some (many) cases.

The person who initiated the post replied by dismissing what I said and then accusing me of being triggered. “I see you’ve been triggered.”

NO, I was not triggered!  I simply shared my own personal experience.

Not everything is a trigger!

Trigger has become a hot topic in social media and elsewhere. The benefit is that as a society we have become increasingly aware of and sensitive to the fact that people have suffered trauma and that there are events, experiences, etc. that can illicit a trauma response that can prove harmful to the individual trying to recover from past traumas. The drawback is that there seems to be a growing trend of people throwing around the word “trigger” like rice at a wedding. Some use it to escape responsibility. Others use it to dismiss another’s experience. Some use it to feed their inner victim. Trigger as a clinical term is most appropriately used in the context of trauma and really should not be used in any other way.

Beyond the clinical definition, trigger may simply be understood as something that elicits an emotional response. As much as a trigger can arise out of trauma, it can also arise simply to get our awareness (though I wouldn’t really call it a trigger, instead, simply the body signaling for us to pay attention).  Case in point, I had no trauma reaction to the pharmaceutical post, but what I did have was a clear and definite spark from my truth barometer.

Our truth barometer is the deep inner sense within us that alerts us when something we encounter is not in alignment with our truth, or even with absolute truth.

Unfortunately, we live in a culture that beats this truth barometer out of us, rather, it conditions us in such a way that we a) have forgotten how to hear that inner sense and/or b) we have learned not to trust it. For my whole entire life, I have had a strong truth barometer, but like most, was told along the way that it was invalid, or incorrect, or that I simply couldn’t know certain things that I know. Well…I have worked long and hard to reclaim that voice and I adhere to it and trust it every single time.  Am I sometimes guilty, even now, of ignoring that voice? Absolutely!  But when it really wants my attention, it tells me.

What my truth barometer told me in the case shared above is that the information shared was incorrect, arrogant, and dangerous. I said none of this to the poster. I’m not here to change other people’s beliefs. I did, however, feel like I had a responsibility to share (for others who may have seen the post and who are equally enjoying the life-saving benefits of pharmaceuticals) my own experience. My sharing was civil and respectful. Apparently, the poster didn’t think so. Instead, she accused me of being triggered, dismissed my personal experience, and then claimed to have a cure for what ails me. In doing all of this, she effectively avoided any personal responsibility for what she shared.

So… yeah….. Not everything is a trigger. Sometimes what some might interpret as a trigger is simply our inner truth calling out bullshit!

Vetting the Magdalene

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 2 Comments

A week or so ago, I received what might be one of the greatest compliments I have ever received in my professional life. I was holding a one-on-one session with a recent enrollee of my Magdalene Training Program. This woman is an academic and an educator.  As I often do, I asked how she found me and the training program I offer.  Her response was something along the lines of: “I’ll be honest, I did a lot of research. I looked at your program along with several others and all I can say is, ‘you made the cut.’” She went on to explain her criteria which included:

  • Based in scholarship.
  • Rooted in scripture.
  • Practical and applicable to real life.
  • Anchored in contemplative practice.
  • Embracing of Eastern and Western practices.
  • Authentically transformational (in other words: it works!)

She also observed, “There is no ‘whoo’ in your program. To which I responded, “Hallelujah!”

You see, in the years that I have been studying the Magdalene and then creating and facilitating formation programs in her name, the Magdalene world has gone from purely academic, with very few of us speaking and teaching in her name, to almost wholly capitalistic – with literally thousands appropriating the Magdalene for their own convoluted purpose. Where once the Magdalene was solely an example of the fulfillment of Jesus’ teachings, the continuation of his ministry and living contemplative empowerment, she is now being used to sell everything from perfumes to tarot cards to so-called “sacred prostitution.” Further, all kinds of claims are now being made and marketed about the Magdalene – none of which can actually be proved.

In reality, we know very little about the Magdalene, except the few passages in scripture (many of which have been redacted), the mentions of her in non-canonical (often called gnostic) writings, and the legends that have been handed down throughout history by the people of Provence, France, the Sophian Gnostics, and the newly revealed Gospel of the Beloved Companion.  Among all these resources mentioned, none of them can be proven as absolutely true.

The fact is, we just don’t know. As is true of scripture in general, nothing stands up to academic rigor. The same is true of the Magdalene. We can only make guesses:

  • Is Magdalene a surname, place name, or title?
  • Was the woman referred to as Miriam of Magdala from the town of Magdala (archaeology suggests not).
  • What does it mean that this woman was “healed of seven demons?” (We can only guess)
  • Who really witnessed the resurrection?
  • What does resurrection even mean?
  • What happened to Mary after Jesus’ death? (we only have legend to go on here).
  • Did Mary travel to Britain? (maybe but doubtful).
  • What about the whole “heiros gamos” thing (depends on how you define that – but on the surface, not likely).
  • Was Mary an Essene (more than doubtful as the Essenes abhorred women).

These questions represent just the tip of the iceberg. There is absolutely nothing we can say about the Magdalene that is irrefutably true. The best we can do is gather the best research and develop guesses from there and when we stray from scholarship, being clear about the basis of what we are sharing.  

What we shouldn’t do, however, is make claims about the Magdalene that have absolutely no basis in scholarship and then sell them as fact. The sad reality however, is that thousands of people are out there doing exactly this while convincing others to pay for goods and services that are based in pure fantasy. On behalf of the Magdalene, I’m offended by this, but she doesn’t need my defending.

The true Magdalene stands on her own.

This has been born out in the women and men who have participated in and completed the Magdalene (inspired) Training Program I have developed, journeyed through myself, and now facilitate. My program differs from other programs being sold in her name by these criteria:

  • Based in scholarship.
  • Rooted in scripture.
  • Practical and applicable to real life.
  • Anchored in contemplative practice.
  • Embracing of Eastern and Western practices.
  • Authentically transformational (in other words: it works!)

No, this work isn’t for everyone. It requires discipline, dedication, persistence, personal accountability, and self-awareness.  In my own life and in the lives of those who have completed this program, the results speak for themselves. Participants come away knowing more about themselves, more about their own personal mission and calling, and have the tools to support themselves in moving past the obstacles to living a purposeful and meaningful life. No whoo here. No smoke blown up your ass. No false promises. No bullshit. Just resources and tools inspired by the Magdalene and the mission of Truth that she shared with her mentor, teacher, and friend, Jesus.

Waiting and Watching

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The current universe energies are weird. According to my astrologer friends, this week is supposed to be the worst of the year. Strangely, I’m experiencing just the opposite. “The worst week” for me were the two previous weeks – where my personal energy felt very volatile, fragile, vulnerable, highly emotional, disproportionately reactionary, and I did not feel like myself at all! 

Yes, the energies this week are strange. I’ve felt disturbances in the force. I’ve felt underlying anxieties and fears.  I had the sensation of “something wicked this way comes.”  AND, I suffered the heartbreak of learning that someone I care about might be racist, transphobic, and xenophobic (among other things).

And yet, even with all of this, I still feel a strange sense of calm. It’s a kind of “waiting and watching” calm. The calm before the storm? Perhaps.

Tuesday evening, I experienced a visitation of sorts in my dreams. The only way I can describe the visitation was that of a teacher – male in appearance and distinctly dark complected with dark (almost black) hair. In the dream, there were no words exchanged, only a deep gaze – as if into my soul, and through that gaze, I felt learning being imparted to me. It felt like a download of information and knowledge. There was nothing specific within the download or identifiable, just the sensation of being filled up with a kind of ineffable flow of energetic substance. I woke up with the dream fresh in my mind along with the sense of having been prepared or being prepared for……something. This download “continued” throughout the day and was experienced as physical sensations of energy moving down through my body. I had the sense of this being the integration of what I “learned.”

I have no idea of what I learned. There are no words to give to it. It simply felt like necessary preparation for that which I do not and may never know or understand.

So now I wait. I wait and watch as humanity continues along its current trajectory. There are so many things at the tipping point – and in any moment the whole house of cards might collapse upon itself.  AND there’s nothing I can or need to do to hasten it along or prevent its coming. All I can do is wait and watch – an objective witness to whatever the collective decides to do with what God has given them and with the catastrophe they have created for themselves.

For Whom is Prayer?

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I’m in an ongoing quandary/inquiry with a fellow monastic friend related to the topic of prayer. Central to this inquiry are questions around:

  • Why do we pray?
  • Do our prayers matter?
  • What do our prayers actually influence (if anything)?
  • What good is prayer?
  • What even do we mean by prayer?

Prayer means different things to different people.  In the tradition in which I was raised, prayer consisted of formulaic rote prayers. Having grown up Catholic, prayer included those we recited at mass, the rosary (and the prayers that made up the rosary), saint novenas, prayers to saints, prayers for special intentions, etc. Prayer was words we sent up toward God or to whichever saint we were praying to for their intercession. (Saints were considered intermediaries between ourselves and God). Prayer also included all of our requests of God – to make us happy, healthy, to cure a disease, to help someone who needs God’s help, for God to intervene in a conflict or struggle, pleading to God for world peace, praying for the repose of a recently deceased’s soul, and finally, prayers for the release of “the poor souls in purgatory.”

In a nutshell, prayer was asking God for something or reciting rote prayers

in the hopes of gaining God’s favor, love, or forgiveness.

But here’s the thing….in the same breath that these prayers were taught and, in some cases, enforced, were the teachings about a God who was unconditionally loving, all-forgiving, and who knew what we needed before we could even ask. If this was the God we were taught to believe in, then what was the point of all those prayers? (And what would be the point of purgatory or even hell for that matter?????) Why would we need to offer prayers for God’s approval, to earn God’s love, to beg forgiveness, even to ask for healing or help for another if all this was already given, unbidden, by an all-loving God?

The answer, as it turns out, is simple. Prayer is not for God. Prayer is for the one who prays.

Rote, repetitious prayer, gives our mind something to do when we are anxious or afraid. Repeating a series of phrases or a single line provides a rhythm that helps to calm our mind and restore us to peace. Running our fingers over rosary beads has been proven to further facilitate a peaceful mind. Repeating memorized prayers while moving our fingers over rosary beads while reflecting on the life of Jesus and Mother Mary engages all parts of the brain with the benefit of  hastening the experience of an easeful mind. Intercessory prayers – asking for God’s intervention or assistance in a matter of importance or to request healing for ourselves or another – gives us the feeling of having some control over an otherwise uncontrollable situation. When we are feeling alone, afraid, ashamed, burdened, offering a prayer to God helps us to feel not so alone and might help us forgive ourselves when there is nothing to forgive from God’s point of view.

While God doesn’t need our prayers, we do.  This is why we pray. It’s not for God – to earn God’s love, to seek God’s forgiveness, it is for our own peace of mind, to release our own shame, and perhaps one day, to understand that no matter what anyone else might say, we are unconditionally and infinitely loved.

I Care Too Much

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 6 Comments

I have a confession to make.  I talk big about cultivating the fine art of detachment and learning not to care, but in reality, I care too much. It’s a problem:

  • I care about the state of our world.
  • I care about humanity’s wellbeing.
  • I care about the lack of peace and the pervasive nature of conflict.
  • I care that some humans are truly evil and intentionally cruel.
  • I care about the health of our environment and the safety of our water and food.
  • I care about injustice.
  • I care that people are starving, homeless, without adequate medical care, living in war-torn countries where their safety is continually threatened.
  • I care that people die in unnecessary wars.
  • I care that the best humanity can come up with for resolving conflict is war.
  • I care about ignorance and the bad decisions human beings make because of a lack of verifiable information.
  • I care that there are people in the world who thrive on manipulating and abusing others.
  • I care…I care…I care…

More than all of this, I care about the people I love. I want the best for them.  I want them to be happy, healthy, well cared for, and safe. I want them to succeed in whatever they set out to do. I want them to have peace, to know contentment and to experience joy. I want them to feel loved.

The problem with caring, is that I am not in control over any of the things I care about. That drives me insane. It is excruciating to observe humanity and to see all the unnecessary violence, conflict, and hatred. It is even more difficult to watch those you love make decisions that will cause themselves or someone else harm. It is especially challenging when you have some experience in a certain area and can predict the harm that will come when one takes a certain path. This is hundred-fold true when you have a tiny bit of pre-sentience and a thousand-fold true when you are an empath, or when someone you love asks for guidance, and you give it, and they choose the exact opposite.

It actually hurts me to see some choosing certain paths. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about any of it. So I writhe in agony. I become frustrated, angry, and impatient. I get balled up in self-righteousness. My anxiety escalates and my depression deepens. Sometimes it’s so bad my PTSD is triggered. It sucks.

Then I apply every single spiritual practice I know for detaching and letting go. Sometimes it helps. More often not. Or if it does, the effects are only temporary, and I find myself right back in the place of caring.

UGH!

There are days I want to shake my fist at God: “Why did you make me care???”  There are other days I try to bargain, “Can’t you make me NOT CARE like so many people seem to do?”  Then there are the days where I make myself not care – I have to get angry to not care, and then I feel guilty and like I’m being a complete asshole.

UGH!

Caring is a curse, but I’m not sure I would want to be any other way. Someone has to give a shit!  Right!?  If I don’t care, who will? If someone doesn’t care what will come of this world?

But then I look at what we call “God.”  Does “He” even care? I sometimes think not. Instead, it seems that God leaves us to our own devices and lets the chips fall where they may – consequences, natural law, karma, and all that jazz.

If God doesn’t care, then why do I?  It’s a serious question.

Some might call caring “codependency.” Yeah, I can own that. I do care – often too much. The too much is an ebb and a flow. Better on some days than others. When I’m feeling vulnerable, or anxious, or unwell, it might be worse. When my PTSD is triggered it’s definitely worse. Unraveling from being a first-born and certain cultural conditioning is hard. Healing from childhood wounds and forced extroverted niceness (brought about by multiple moves) takes time. People pleasing and over-responsibility have to be unlearned.

It’s a journey. But as hard as I am on others, I’m a million times harder on myself. I should have this thing down by now. Right!?

WRONG!  Not even close.  Turns out I’m human, fragile, vulnerable, and imperfect and broken just like everyone else. And more than anything else, I am not in control over the fact that I am excruciatingly human – and that just kills me.

Peace is an Act of Rebellion

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

We live in a world that is driven by fear and thrives on chaos. Conflict and violence have become so much a part of life that entire economies are based on the lucrative business of war. Entire family systems have been defined by the abuse they inflict and then inhabit. The relationship paradigms we have been sold are rooted in codependency and hierarchical control. Our educational systems have lost their focus on learning and are now directed toward a definition of success that is rooted in a competition to acquire the most wealth, power, and fame. Careers are no longer centered in the search for meaningful and fulfilling work which helps to provide what a society needs to survive and thrive, but are instead geared toward making billionaires richer.

Fear, chaos, conflict, competition, violence, and abuse have become so much a part of our lives that we have come to believe that all of this is not only normal, but healthy. We shrug our shoulders and walk away when anyone dare question this status quo. “It is what it is,” we hear people say. Or things like: “it’s just how things are done, it’s what we’ve always known, I have to make a living…” And if anyone dare to offer another possibility – a life, for example, that might be peaceful, gentle, and full of ease, that person becomes a pariah – accused of being a “commie” or just plain insane.

Chaos, conflict, competition, and violence are a choice. It is one the vast majority of humanity has been making for five thousand years or more. But in the same way that conflict is a choice, so too is peace. Contrary to popular belief based on centuries of conditioning, we have the power to choose peace over conflict, collaboration over competition, ease over chaos, and gentleness over violence. But more often we don’t.  And we have to ask ourselves why.

The answer is simple. Choosing peace is an act of rebellion. When we choose peace, we are putting every single system based on fear, power, and control in question. When we choose ease, we are disturbing the status quo. When we disturb the status quo, we become a threat to those who benefit from a system based in fear, power, and control. And when we choose to be gentle, we are challenging all those who have come to belief conflict and competition are not only normal, but necessary.

Choosing peace strikes terror in the hearts of those who either benefit from fear, power, and control, or who believe that nothing else could possibly be true.

As a culture/species, we are addicted to conflict and chaos. For many, the idea of peace threatens this addiction. Because of their addiction, they seek more and more of what gives them a charge. Perhaps they know nothing other than trauma, so to them this feels normal. Maybe they are fueled by anger and resentment. Giving someone permission to choose peace threatens the drug to which they have become accustomed.

Choosing peace is an act of rebellion because of all that is threatened by this choice. AND, there is a way for humanity to choose peace, but it first has to recognize its addiction to violence (physical, mental, emotional, psychological, and spiritual violence), and take the critical steps in healing that violence. As that violence becomes healed, and the charge of addiction overcome, it is there that humanity will find its peace. In finding that peace, humanity will wonder, “What the heck was wrong with me that I would choose violence over this?” Choosing peace then becomes the thing that is most valued and what humanity would choose again and again over the violence it has previously come to know.

Choosing peace is an act of rebellion, and it begins with a dream. Dream with me!

It’s Ok to Not “Got This”

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

It’s ok to not “got this.”

Human beings were not meant to experience

this level of conflict, anxiety, violence or stress.

It’s ok to not “got this.”

It’s ok to ask for help,

to reach out for support.

Humans were not meant to do this alone.

It’s ok to not “got this.”

When the human condition fails us

a “sticky sock” vacation

might be exactly what we need;

and “mother’s little helper”

was made for times like these.

It’s ok to not “got this.”

It doesn’t make you a failure, unstable, or insane.

It just makes you human in a world that has lost its damn mind.

How Are We to Pray?

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

Once upon a time there was a kind and gentle Middle Eastern man who came to know the breadth and depth of love and the peace that reigned there. He then sought to help his friends know love and peace in the same way. His method was simple:

“Whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret … When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. (MT 6: 6-8)”

His philosophy was true:

“The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is within and among you. (LK 17: 20-21)”

Prayer, as he understood it, was simply a path to inner peace through which one might remember their original nature as One within themselves, with each other, with God and with all of creation. Prayer, in this way, was sufficient unto itself and all that one needed to access the kingdom so many others had said had to be earned through the fulfillment of the law. This kingdom is already within us and part of our original nature. This man simply sought to help us remember.

This remembering, however, threatened the institutions that ruled over his lands – both the religious and political. Those who gained power through threats and intimidation and who favored a God whose love had to be earned and which could be taken away. These institutions had set themselves up as the intermediaries between human beings and God/Love, growing wealthy over the sacrifices they required of the people so they might earn their way into the kingdom of Love. The idea that the kingdom was already within people, meant no intermediary was necessary, no sacrifice expected and there was no infringement of the law that could separate the people from God’s Love. The institutions killed the man for teaching the way of Love.

The Love could not be destroyed, but where one institution was destroyed, another rose up in its place.  Soon the world was filled with outside perceived authorities who claimed to know the way of this gentle Middle Eastern man.  These institutions set forth doctrine and dogma, rooted not in Love, but in Fear. Then they created rituals, rules, and formulas for what they called prayer – all required to earn God’s Love and to find their way into God’s kingdom. Further, they set prayer as a bargaining tool, suggesting that if one prayed hard enough, and in the required way, using the proper formulas set forth by the institution, then God might be convinced to interceded on their behalf – bringing them riches, fame, wealth, power, and might even be convinced to interfere with the freewill or fate of another. If they prayed in the right way, God might heal them of sickness, raise them from the dead, or rescue them from the brink that they had chosen for themselves.

You see, it served these institutions to paint God in this light. Defying their own scripture which clearly proclaims:

 “I desire mercy, not sacrifice. (MT 9:13, Hos 6:6)”

these institutions created their own god, one who was made in man’s image: fickle, jealous, wrathful, vengeful, punitive, judgmental, one whose love had to be earned and whose love could be taken away. In their desire for power and wealth, they forgot what the kind and gentle man taught of the unconditional Love that is God. They forgot the words of the teacher who taught people how to remember the peace of that Love and that there was nothing they need do to earn that Love, that it could never be taken away and that there was never anything to ask of that Love for Love is the very nature of who we are, and when we become anxious and afraid, we need only turn within, close the door, and remember that Love in prayer.  

Learning Not to Care

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 3 Comments

(aka Cultivating the Fine Art of Detachment)

Life is a funny thing. First, we are taught that it is our job to care about EVERYTHING. Caring about EVERYTHING implies that it is our job to do something about it. Heaped on top of this caring is the whispered weight of responsibility. Not only is it our job to do something, it is also likely that the things that appear wrong are also somehow our fault. Blame adds to the pressure to do something about the wrong.

At nearly sixty, however, I’ve learned something new. It is more than likely that NOTHING is our fault. Therefore, it’s not our job to fix it. Furthermore, it’s not even our responsibility to care.

Wait! What? It’s not our job to care?

Yes, we have a human responsibility to care about ourselves, our loved ones, humanity, and the world. If we have a loving heart, we want the best for everyone. We want people to be happy, healthy, fed, clothed, safely sheltered, educated, and their medical needs provided for. We want people to have liberty, dignity, respect, and peace.

The sad reality, however, is that more often than not, there is not a damn thing we can do to guarantee any of this for anyone. Neither can we necessarily fix the wrong that prevents people from having all that is stated above. This is especially true when the individual is capable but unwilling to care for themselves. Furthermore, 99% of what we care about is completely out of our sphere of influence, and even if it is, it still may be out of our control.

As a Type 1 (Perfectionist/Reformer) on the Enneagram, this has been a truth that has been very difficult for me to come to. Not only have I had conditioning working against me, but I have also had the gift/curse of my unique temperament which gave me the lens through which I am hard-wired to ask “How could this be better.” Indeed, this gift makes me a fantastic trouble-shooter, source of counsel and guidance. This lens also left me with a seething resentment over all the things in the world that I can’t fix and all those who could utilize my gifts, but have refused my counsel.

Compounding the frustrated fulfillment of my gift and its resulting resentment, is the reality of emotional addiction. As it turns out, we can become addicted to negative emotional states in the same way that we can be addicted to alcohol or drugs. Spending time in, or even cultivating these negative emotional states have a similar impact on our brain chemistry as other addictions. Resentment, frustration, impatience, even rage were negative states to which I had become addicted, and I would even seek out situations to get upset about so that I could experience the “power” of these emotions.

Feeling these emotions, however, never fixed the frustration. Getting twisted up about someone else’s behavior, an injustice in the world, or the ignorance of humanity never gave me peace – only more resentment. Eventually I had to make a choice – remain in the ever-twisted world of seething resentment or find some way to experience peace. I chose peace.

The first step in choosing peace was to acknowledge I had an addiction. The second step was to recognize what all those inner feelings were actually saying to me.  They weren’t saying, “Go fix this thing.  It’s your job to fix it.  You know better than anyone else.”  Instead, they were showing me one of two things: a) a need of my own that wasn’t being met that I then had the responsibility to get met (if it was within my realm of control). b) all the things in the world over which I have ZERO control. Admittedly, a) was easier to accept than b).

When we feel powerless over something we cannot control, we will find anyway to find that power, until we can accept that it is really not within our control. One of the tactics I have found helpful (or mantras I’ve embraced) is to force myself NOT TO CARE.

I know this sounds harsh, but I am naturally a loving and caring person – especially as it relates to those I love and have care for. I want the best for them. I want them to be safe, cared for, healthy, happy, etc. But the reality is that no matter my efforts to share my gifts in a way that might be supportive, some/many are unable to receive these gifts. I can beg and plead all I want but until an individual (or a group, or a Church, or a political party, or a nation) wants to make a change, my words are dust in the wind.

To survive the frustration and angst over a) my gifts not being received and b) my complete lack of control over a situation, I have had to learn not to care. In the recovery world, this is called detachment. Detachment allows me to be an objective witness of what is unfolding around me without the compulsion to step in and offer my wisdom, expertise, advice, suggestions, etc. Detachment allows me to move beyond the frustration, irritation, or anger I might feel in the face of what I perceive as wrong and accept things the way they are. And OH MY GOD, my inner perfectionist/reformer HATES THIS!  But, it’s the only way I can experience peace. At this point in my life, I’m far more concerned about peace than thinking I have any influence over the state of our world, and I’ve discovered that this peace is a choice.

I can continue to allow myself to care so much about the world that I suffer the consequences of ongoing seething resentment and frustration, or I can learn not to care (cultivate the fine art of detachment) and live my life in peace. I choose peace.

Unraveling the Wound of ME

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

I don’t know about you, but this past week has been quite a doozy!  I wouldn’t even bother to write about it except that nearly everyone I know has shared the common experience of a “what the heck was that?” kind of week.

Some of the things I’ve heard, witnessed, and been a party to:

  • DEEP Depression the likes of which we haven’t seen in months/years.
  • Strangely triggering experiences with disproportionate reactions.
  • Not just rugs, entire carpets being pulled out from beneath us.
  • A feeling (literal and figurative) of losing the ground beneath our feet.
  • Old, ancient wounds – ones we thought we were done with – paying us a visit.
  • Sudden losses including the ending of relationships.
  • Final straws on camel’s backs calling for immediate response.
  • Complete immobility, lack of motivation and/or interest…in anything.
  • Unexplained sorrow and intermittent tears.

I can’t even begin to offer an explanation of why any of this is happening, or the causes behind it.  I just know it is and has been. For me it’s been a week of writhing and groaning with a whole lot of nothing.  Nothing to do.  Nothing to be. Just nothing. And the realization that there are just not enough shows on Netflix to soothe a week such as the one we just had.

Yes, the world itself is insane. But, for me anyway, the past week felt much more personal – but even that said, I can’t put a finger on what the personal is. My normal inquiry, “What is the wound that is asking to be healed?” just isn’t working here. Either I’m fresh out of wounds, or I, myself, am the wound.

Now there’s a thought!  What if the wound is ME?

I don’t mean this in any sense of self-loathing or self-rejection (or do I?). But…. accompanying the writhing this past week was a whole lot of life-reviews. Visions and memories of really old stuff – experiences that caused me shame or regret, decisions I made that went wrongly, past relationships, old jobs that didn’t fit, every single experience/relationship that felt abusive in some way.

I’m not one to spend time entertaining regret. Shame, however, is another story. Shame, that in hindsight, I had no reason to feel. You see, it wasn’t my shame. It was someone else’s rejection, critique, or condemnation of me for any number of reasons. I wasn’t thin enough. I ate too much. I was too smart. I saw through their lies and bullshit. I couldn’t perform a certain task (through no fault of my own). My lifestyle choices and desire for ease didn’t fit theirs. I exercised the wrong way. I could see the truth they didn’t want me to see. My goals, desires, wants, weren’t the same as theirs. I didn’t obey the rules they wanted to impose upon me. I questioned authority. I challenged hypocrisy.   

There was no reason for me to feel shame for any of this – but, as it turns out, I did/do. Why? Because the rejection, condemnation, etc. was PERSONAL. It wasn’t the actions or behaviors they were rejecting.  It was ME they were rejecting. It was ME because the things these individuals and institutions chose to reject were all based on WHO I TRULY AM. All those years in the past I spent trying to just be myself and being told WHO I AM is not ok.

  • My body is what it is and can’t be forced into a certain shape or size (no matter how hard I tried).
  • My metabolism is what it is and before menopause I had to eat large portions just to survive.
  • I’m smart. I can’t help it. I just am.  I know things. I remember things. I like to learn.
  • I prefer ease to chaos, gentle to harsh, peace to conflict.
  • I’m an introvert. I like people, but I thrive in solitude.
  • I’m outgoing but shy.
  • I don’t like to toot my own horn, or wave a banner to my success.
  • I’m humble.
  • I can read people and I know immediately when someone is lying, a liar, or taking advantage of my generosity and I have a visceral response to these awarenesses. I can’t help it.  I just know and the knowing is somatic.
  • I live by my own truth barometer and profess no outside perceived authority except MYSELF.

All of these things are true about me and part of who I am. I can’t help it. It’s just ME.

All this to come to the realization that indeed, the wound that is asking to be healed in me and which arose through all the weirdness this past week (for me anyway) is the wound of ME. Every single thing, experience, interaction, etc. that causes me to feel as if there is something wrong with ME. That something about ME is wrong. That I have to apologize for who I am or beg for what I need to be ME.

The wound that is asking to be healed is ME.

 Image credit: Facebook AI portrait generator. Turns out this one actually looks like me!  😊