Did I know what I would find when I realized, last fall at a Snowmass Retreat, that I had a breastplate of armor that had protected me growing up, and that I needed to set it aside and allow the emotions hidden there to surface for healing? Since I was familiar with the anger that could arise from behind that armor, I knew the emotions were strong and the experiences difficult. I also knew that this would be healing and freeing. I had first become aware of that ball of anger when a man I spent time with in the early 90's touched that pain with words. It was as if a knife was slicing through my guts. I have touched it many times in my healing journey, but have never been able to get inside it. So this work has been a long time coming.
I needed that armor and am deeply grateful that I had it. I count the young girl who developed that armor and the Divine that allowed it to form as one of the greatest blessing in my young life. The core of the ball that is still unraveling is the fear of being destroyed. That is strong language, and in my case, this was sometimes a warranted fear. Other times, there were words, tones of voice and looks that activated fear that felt as if I was being torn apart, thrown aside--feelings that were especially strong when the person triggering them held power over me.
Storm clouds and their shadows can be beautiful, especially when blue skies and white cottony clouds can be seen in another part of the sky. However, when a vicious storm has brought damaging wind and rain, when lightening has ignited a nearby forest fire, those storm clouds may cause a knot to form in our stomachs, and fear to course through our bodies. The same is true for words, voices and looks that activate old, often unconscious fearful experiences.
As my ball of fear and pain has been unraveling, I've become aware of why I unconsciously created fear in the two 6'4" men who worked for me in the early days of managing growing grant and loan programs in economic and community development--and how I used some of the same tools that had been used to create fear in me. Fortunately, I've become friendly, if not always friends, with many of my shadow parts so I am not devastated or upset the way I was when my lovely administrative assistant, after hours on her last day before moving on to a full professional position, told me that these two men were afraid of me. My mental picture was of a slender 5'4" woman standing between two men, each a foot taller, trying to get them to understand the urgency of the projects they were working on and my frustration when their looks of slow understanding and unhurried voices expressed the opinion that I was expecting too much. They could have as easily said, "We are state workers. What do you expect?"
That anger was triggered recently in an e-mail dialogue with one of our pastors regarding the expectations of attendance in the healing ministry discernment group that I chair. My reaction was over-the-top though the worst of it I kept to myself. I should have realized the pattern that often occurs when an old deep pain is working its way through to consciousness.
My use of those tactics--a steely look in my eyes, a cold tone of voice (not loud), and words have long been my tools of protection. At times words are not needed. I have prided myself on not needing to raise my voice to get across my point--get out of my way, don't touch me, stop now. I could write an essay, maybe a short book, on the looks that shot fear and feelings that I needed to be squashed--sometimes literally--growing up. Changing those looks in my life to ones of compassion is the transformation necessary--and God will provide that healing. My job it to be open to the Spirit's work.
No comments:
Post a Comment