A couple of weeks ago we saw an adaptation of Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard...which didn't actually use any of the original text. It was a reinterpretation by local group Pony Cam which featured large swathes of improvised dialogue and five members of the audience. One line which was repeated at different parts of the play was 'the cut changes the tree'. I kept thinking about this line for days.
About a year ago we had an offer of a free information session for our library staff. Beth Wahler's focus is on trauma informed librarianship. I'd often wondered why some people who have similar experiences react to them in such different ways. She shared the concept of the three Es in trauma - Event, Experience, Effects.
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Image: From SAMHSA’s SAMHSA’s Trauma-Informed Approach slide deck |
Basically, we can all be impacted by events, but it's our own experience of this (which includes our personal background) which informs how we process and react to the event i.e. whether we find it traumatic. This will then determine the effect the event has on us. This really began to help me see trauma in a new way.
I'd always felt that there was a difference between big capital T trauma and the baggage many of us carry throughout our lives. But the three Es really highlights the individual experience of processing an event or ongoing behaviour you've been exposed to. The more I've spoken to my friends I've realised the weight and impact of childhood. People now in their 40s and 50s are looking deep within themselves to try to change the way they navigate life, how they react, and change thought patterns. Many of us are trying to lighten our mental and emtional load.
A friend suggested Stephanie Foo's book What my bones know. Part memoir, part handbook for processing complex PTSD it is a great example of perserveering until you find the right therapy and therapist for you. Stephanie tried it all, including restoratice yoga which had her curled up on the floor under a blanket crying! But one thing that really struck me in Stephanie's book was her exploration of intergenerational trauma. I guess I'd always thought of this as traumatised people who's trauma-impacted behaviour is influencing how they raise children. But Stephanie quotes multiple reseach studies (of mice and humans) where traumatic events impact the epigenome of the parent and this change was passed onto future generations.
"The stuff we think of when we think about DNA - nose shape, eye colour - only comprises about 2 percent of our total DNA. The other 98 percent is called noncoding DNA and it is responsible for our emotions, personality, and instincts. The epigenome on top of the noncoding DNA is very sensitive to stress and the environment. When a body adapts to constant overwhelming stress - not a car accident or a bad flu, but long-lasting trauma - the epigenome changes. Trauma can turn on a gene that responds to the smell of cherry blossoms, for example. Or turn off a gene that regulates our emotions. It might turn on a gene for fear." (p. 200-201 of Stephanie's book)
This really explains the impact of the second E in the trauma model above - 'experience'. We can be literally hard wired, thanks to our parents or grand parents, to respond in certain ways. I used to think that high blood pressure was all I'd inheritied in the genetic crap shoot of my parents genes. But I think that the gene for anxiety was switched on too, and dialled up to 11. In talking to my psychologist she once said 'I wonder what happened to your Dad to make him who he was?'. I was struck by this inquisitive, kind approach to a man I'd raged and cried about for 10 sessions. I wasn't ready to consider his own foundational experiences. I was too angry at him for the impact he'd had on us all.
But recently I realised that I had moved from carrying fear and anxiety about my childhood to rage. Even though I could laugh, be happy and calm, I felt my base level of anger was high. This meant it wasn't taking much to push me over the edge. Throw in some menopausal hormone imbalance and I've been a cocktail of 'FOR FUCKS SAKE' ready to blow my top in seconds. I'm sure it didn't look like that from the outside, but it's how it's felt inside. I hadn't seen my psych for a while but in last weeks session I brought up the rage. I know it can't be doing my physical or mental health any good. I wanted to let go of the anger about Dad. I'd replaced one emotional response to him with another equally unhelpful one. And then it hit me...most of all I didn't want to become him. His anger was what I was scared of. I cried a lot.
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One of my favourtie memes off social media |
The cut changes the tree. These words swirl in my head. What a simple metaphor for trauma. Maybe another way I can look at this is that the cut changes to tree, and it grows stronger in a different direction to compensate for the impact, and ensure it's survival. I know it's not always the case. Multiple times this week as I drove to work I was stuck in traffic. Along the long street lined with elm trees, I saw scars where branches were lost. Those scars were hollowing out and I watched as rainbow lorikeets flew into their wooded homes. I smiled. The cut changes the tree. But perhaps the change doesn't always have to be bad. Perhaps over time it can become something helpful and beautiful...if we wait, and grow with the change.
Image source: Hollowblitz
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