Trauma

The Collective Shadow of the US

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

On Wednesday, January 7, 2026, around 9:30 in the morning, Renee Nicole Good of Minneapolis was murdered by an ICE agent, shot in the face when she refused to comply with his unlawful order. The murder took place in the residential area of East 34th Street and South Portland Avenue in the Powderhorn Park neighborhood. Minneapolis, and all the world with them are mourning this tragedy and angered at the gross miscarriage of justice that would allow a mostly untrained officer to execute a mother of three without cause.

As the story continues to unfold, the whole world is watching and wondering, will this finally be the tipping point the United States needs to get out from under this reign of terror?

Sadly, I suspect not. If those in positions of perceived authority haven’t acted yet, I doubt the killing of an innocent white woman will motivate them to do anything now. Not because our so-called elected officials are evil (though some, including me, might argue this point), but because they, and the system they continue to support, are simply a reflection of the collective unacknowledged, and therefore unhealed shadow of this nation.

The ICE agent, yet to be named as of this writing, who murdered Renee Nicole Good, is like the characterization of most ICE agents: an angry, racist, possibly sexist, white man who is projecting his own fears and insecurities on those he has been told, and believes, are the cause of his suffering. Apparently women are included among those he hates. Or, woefully untrained in how to manage conflict or how to de-escalate a crisis, reacted out of panic or fear in shooting the mother of three who refused to comply with his unlawful requests.

Or maybe he shot her simply because she had the courage to say no.

We may never know what drove the ICE agent to kill Renee Good, but we can guess at the knee-jerk reaction that would incite anyone to even draw a gun.

The ICE agent reflects our shadow. He IS our shadow.

As I’ve said before, the United States was firmly established in misogyny and racism. Whereas policies have been implemented and laws passed that give us the illusion of freedom and equality, as any woman or person of color will tell you, we are not truly free. Neither are we treated equally under the law. In order for the United States to heal and become the dream it has presented to the world, it first has to acknowledge this truth, along with all the other truths the US does not want to admit. As Hasan Piker stated in a recent podcast, “The United States is the biggest terrorist of all time.”  He’s not wrong. Terror from the inside and terror on the outside. And until we address these difficult truths, we will never heal, and nothing will ever change.

Rest in peace Renee Nicole Good and may justice one day be served.

Being Gentle with Ourselves

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 1 Comment

It is near impossible to ignore the death throes of the dying empire. We are bombarded with the symptoms every day – often every minute of every day. It is constant and relentless.

What we may forget to heed, however, is the credit we are due for enduring the constant assault on our being – our bodies, minds, and spirits are all suffering from the assault of a world gone mad. Admittedly, “enduring” might be overreach when on most days simply surviving feels like an enormous effort. The fact that you’re reading this, however, tells me that at the very least, you are surviving. Perhaps just by the skin of your teeth – but you’re still here.  That’s the point.

The dying world is not meant to destroy us (though there will be those destroyed by the collapse). It will test and challenge us. In direct opposition to our conditioning, the purpose of the test is not so that we might exert our strength or bolster our will. Instead, the invitation in the face of the dying system is to learn how to be soft. Instead of toughening us, the empire’s collapse is meant to make us more gentle. Gentle with ourselves – and others.

Learning to be gentle starts with ourselves. It begins with a thorough examination of our conditioning and all the ways we were ridiculed, condemned, criticized or rejected for being sensitive, kind, quiet, compassionate, caring, sharing, and gentle. The examination continues by exploring how our conditioning told us how we should be instead: strong, brave, courageous, competitive, tough, bullet-proof, etc. In the world that is dying, we have not been rewarded for being gentle – only for being tough. The new world that we are moving into will reward us for being gentle.

Choosing that new world starts today. Give yourself credit for the suffering you have endured in your life thus far. Acknowledge the losses, betrayals, deceptions, and heartbreaks you have suffered. If you have suffered trauma, offer yourself grace when your past traumas are triggered. Give yourself permission to do nothing, to wallow, to “rot” (as Gen Z’s say). If your panic or fear are triggered and your brain goes numb, allow yourself to check out. Be quiet. Be still.  BE NON-Productive (our value is NOT determined by our productivity – as much as we’ve been told otherwise)!  Defy the capitalistic, patriarchal expectations around striving after achievement, seeking to be known or seen. Popularity does not determine our value!  When you’re feeling sad – be sad. Weep, cry, wail, flail. Do whatever you need to do to be present with your feelings and then take a rest. Nap. Sleep. Read. Listen to music. Take a day or three to do absolutely nothing. Hide under the covers. Retreat into your cave. Walk slowly and gently. Be conscious of your breathing and slow it down. Close your eyes and just listen to the quiet of the universe. Meditate. Pray. Be simple with your meals. No one expects you to be Martha Stewart. Say no to invitations. Don’t buy into the shoulds of holidays. Skip the decorations and the pressure.

And more than any of this – be gentle with yourself. Cease from judging your feelings and just accept them as they are. Don’t condemn yourself for your sensitivity – celebrate it. Hold yourself in gently fierce loving care when you feel like you are falling apart. Be compassionate with yourself when you break down or shut down or dissociate. Don’t measure your day by how you are feeling. If it takes you 3 days or a week to get through a trigger response, then that’s exactly what you needed. Celebrate your willingness to give yourself exactly what you need.

Journeying through the collapse of an empire is an experience like no other. As it’s been several hundred years since the most recent collapse of western civilization, we’re entitled to feel burdened and overwhelmed. We also know from the past that it is not the loud or the brave who survived, but those who knew how to move quietly, slowly, even invisibly, and who more than anything, knew how to be loving toward themselves, gentle and caring toward others. Let this be our invitation as we navigate the death throes – that our gentleness be our salvation.

Letters from Hell #2 – Rest

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 2 Comments

This morning, my thoughts have turned to rest. Specifically, rest, that it seems I am needing a great deal more of. I never needed rest before – or at least I acted like I didn’t need it. I would work from before dawn to after dusk Monday through Sunday. Weekends were taken up with chores – cooking, cleaning, yardwork, being a mom, etc. etc. etc. There was no time for rest – rather, I rarely took the time.

But now, as we’ve been living in hell, it seems like all I want to do is rest.

I can’t help it. I’m tired. Damn tired.

Living in hell is exhausting. Between “hearing (and feeling) the cries of the world,” the increasing division and violence, and the constant bombardment of traumatic events and chaotic actions, I have very little left to give – to anything – other than survival.

It’s no wonder when the weekend comes all I really feel like doing is sitting at home, reading, napping, and watching TV. I have zero bandwidth (or money) for much else. I don’t want to go anywhere or be by anyone. And please don’t ask me to go somewhere where there will be crowds. I get enough of the energy of people during the week, and I really cannot tolerate any more.

I suspect I’m not alone in this – at least among those who are paying attention. As a healer and an empath, I feel it all  – every person’s emotions, feelings, anxieties, frustration, anger, and fear. I can’t help it. My body is like some kind of processor for all the darkness that is erupting in our world. It comes into me and moves through me. It seems I have no choice in the matter. It’s part of what I’m here to do and be. And trust me, it is not out of pride that I share this – because I would not wish this “job” on anyone.

With no choice in the matter, I do what I must to survive: 

First, my home is my sanctuary. I have created it into a place of refuge and safety. It is my hermitage, my monastery, my cloister. With three-foot-thick concrete walls, it is a fortress in which I feel safe. I am here mostly alone or in the company of loved ones or special clients. To the world, my home is invisible. To be found, you must have been given an invitation.

Second, when I’m not at the job that provides the income I need for basic survival, I’m at home. Except for visits to the yoga studio, running basic errands, visiting my favorite coffee shop, I’m home. At home, I am deeply immersed in my practice – meditation, prayer, reflecting, writing, reading, and praying some more. Increasingly, in prayer is how I spend my time. I need it. The world needs it.

Third, I’ve learned to embrace rest. When I’m tired, I nap. When it’s not a “work day,” I rest. In this also, I find I no longer have a choice. I need it after all the energy it takes to live in this hellscape, to be forced to be out in the world, and to be one of the many witnessing and supporting humanity as it decides its own fate – an eternity in hell, the end of the human race, or if they will finally agree to embrace the opportunity they’ve always been given – which is to be Love.

The Fallacy of Certainty

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 1 Comment

The topic of certainty came up with my daughter the other day as we were sharing news of an acquaintance who had recently joined a certain church. We were both somewhat amazed that a person of intelligence, reason, and critical thinking would enthusiastically embrace a religion that espouses a very narrow interpretation of … well … everything. As my forever wise daughter observed, “Well, trauma will do that.” Indeed.

For me, trauma has had the opposite effect. Instead of seeking after certainty, I run from anything that seems to be promising certainty. Why? Because life has shown me that other than death, absolutely nothing is certain. But then I wonder, is my response due to trauma, or simply the accumulated observations of sixty years?

Some of the life experiences that showed me the falsehood of certainty proved to be traumatic. By and large, however, uncertainty seems to simply be the truth of life. Anyone that would suggest otherwise is either still clinging to an illusion of certainty, or just plain lying.

In life, nothing is certain. We don’t know if we’ll be born, how long we’ll live, from what we will be safe (hunger, disease, poverty, etc.), or when we’ll die. We don’t know where our life path will lead us and we cannot predict, once on a path, if or how we’ll reach its destination – if ever, or if along the way the path might change or simply fall away. Or maybe we reach the hoped-for destination, and it blows up in our face.

Life is funny that way. A whole lot of unknowns with only one truly predictable outcome:

DEATH

No matter how our lives unfold, death is the final destination. It is the only outcome that is certain. The rest is up for grabs. Everyone knows this. And yet……and yet…..everywhere we look there is someone trying to convince us that they have the key to certainty. Religion that claims to be the sole purveyor of truth. Spiritualists who claim to have a monopoly on the afterlife. Gurus who will gladly take your money for the magical blessing that will ensure enlightenment. Healers who claim to own the trademark to what will save you from dying. Physicians who have the remedies to, if not save your life, at least delay your dying. Politicians who make empty promises about a hopeful future. Coaches to shower their athletes with empty dreams of a professional career. Universities who promise an abundance of fulfillment and wealth after completing a course of study. Life-coaches who also claim to hold the keys to fulfilment and wealth. Authors who promise a formula for manifesting what you want, or “calling in the one.”

All of these are pandering to and profiting from humanity’s insecurities and fears – specifically the fear of the unknown – what we might alternatively call “the fear of life itself.”

Life itself is terrifying. It’s unpredictable. Unstable. Often unsafe. We experience suffering and the pain of betrayal. We know the deep grief of loss. We suffer disappointment. We are the witnesses of violence and death.

We know this about life, and yet we persist. The human instinct for survival is STRONG. But so is our tendency toward denial. We don’t like the anxiety and fear that uncertainty brings, so we  look for anything and everything that might promise otherwise. We look for the perfect job, the magic pill, the charismatic teacher, the soulmate, the book, the coach, the healer……or the mountain we are willing to die on, that gives us the promise of certainty and we embrace it enthusiastically, even bringing our friends and family along for the ride. In one way or another we are all guilty of this.  And yet, every single time, that which promises certainty eventually proves itself wrong and we find ourselves staring down the barrel of uncertainty.

This is just part of being human and having a human experience. We are not, however, doomed to this endless cycle of uncertainty, false hope, and disappointment. Instead of seeking after certainty, we can simply accept that life is – uncertain. Once we accept this truth, and learn to be with the anxiety of uncertainty, we can flow through life from a place of contentment and ease. This doesn’t mean we won’t experience anxiety or fear, but we will have the tools to move through the anxiety and return to a place of equanimity where we can simply enjoy where we are in this moment and appreciate the wonder and beauty that life brings despite all of its uncertainty.

The Effects of Trauma

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

Trauma is weird. Trauma is weird because we don’t always know we’re experiencing trauma until its effects accumulate and begin to come out sideways. Trauma is also weird because every person experiences trauma differently.  Some traumas are obvious and expected, others are not. If you are in a war zone and having to deal with constant life-threatening situations, you would expect that you might experience some adverse effects from that trauma. Some people, however, seemingly don’t. If you are in a physically abusive marriage or suffered sexual assault, you would expect to suffer the effects of these traumas. One does not necessarily expect disappointment, heartbreak, loss, or betrayal to be experienced as trauma – but for some they are.

Trauma is weird. My trauma is not from war or physical abuse. What I can now identify as the traumas that eventually led to a diagnosis of CPTSD (Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), I did not necessarily think of them as traumatic at the time. I’m a strong, independent woman and that’s how I got through those traumas – truly by sheer force of will and stubbornness – mixed in with a good dose of resentment. I made myself survive.  I forced myself to weather the storm. I pushed myself through it all – never attending to the deep heartbreak I was feeling because at the time I was just trying not to collapse under the weight of it all.

Well….eventually that all caught up to me. All that forcing did was push the trauma deeper and deeper into my psyche where it built up and accumulated until it started coming out in symptoms of depression, anxiety, hypervigilance, and eventually full-blown and traumatic panic attacks. I’m also convinced that all of this pent up trauma is what made me vulnerable to the bizarre ear infection that permanently damaged my vestibular nerve – causing my now ongoing issues with vertigo, etc. which now prevents me from driving any distance without great effort and no longer allows me to drive on the freeway – dramatically hindering my previously taken for granted freedom of mobility.

Trauma is weird. I have tried to explain my trauma in the past and to those listening, it just doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t really make sense to me either. I can point to the situations, experiences, individuals and say – “it’s their fault.” But really, my trauma is less about fault and more about cause. The cause, if I’m truly honest with myself, was LOVE, and the trauma that one experiences when that love is betrayed.

That’s it in a nutshell. Every trauma I’ve experienced has ultimately been about the betrayal of love.

The easiest for me to speak about is my ecclesial trauma because in this case, there are no innocent bystanders who might be hurt by my words. I feel perhaps I’ve written of this ad nauseum, but in a nutshell – I once passionately and deeply loved the Church and the mission of Love I embraced on their behalf. I found my calling in the Church. I was enthusiastically supported in that calling, both financially and otherwise by the Church. I had planned to continue my formation and advancement in Church ministry as far as would be allowed for a woman. Then I wasn’t. All because I took Jesus’ call to Love seriously and accepted that call to heal and teach. It’s a long stupid story and on the outside to call this trauma might seem trite, but I can honestly attest that leaving the Church was harder for me than divorce and the trauma I suffered that ultimately led to my leaving is the greatest heartbreak I have ever experienced. My Church turned its back on me. If you understand the nature of spiritual abuse, you get it.

The other traumas I will continue to hold close to my heart. Suffice it to say, all were deep and indelible betrayals of love. When trauma is a result of betrayal, it becomes personal – and that’s a whole different kind of trauma – which is why it’s so difficult to describe and even more challenging to explain. It’s not as a result of a hit, a punch, or war, it because of a broken heart.  

No matter the cause of the trauma, the effects are mostly the same: anxiety, depression, panic attacks, chronic illness, hypervigilance, memory issues, situational avoidance, disassociation, feelings of overwhelm and cognitive impairment, auditory and visual processing disorders, chronic pain, and so much more. There are medications and therapies that help mitigate the effects of trauma, but in my experience, the effects never fully go away and are always lying in wait to rear their ugly head again – like recently. For whatever reason, my trauma decided to rear its ugly head causing ongoing increased anxiety and breakthrough panic. Whatever I had been doing proved to be no longer enough so now I’m (by doctor’s orders) taking a break from external stimuli, adjusting to an increase in medication, and looking at what other lifestyle changes or adaptations I need to take to continue to care for my trauma-affected mind, spirit, and body.

As an aside, I’m profoundly grateful to my employer who allows for accommodations so that I can continue to work and make a living. AND there are not enough supports in our system for people who have suffered the effects of trauma. For many, work is literally impossible and for the majority, there are not enough accommodations available to help them be part of providing for their basic needs without doing further damage to themselves. If my nervous system had its way, I’d be living in a cabin deep in the woods and all my needs would be provided for so I could just take care of myself, living as gently and quietly and softly as I need. Just sayin!