Healing from Trauma – Being and Becoming
(an excerpt from our book, Leaning Forward)
I started recycling about 3 years ago. It always seemed like a promising idea. One company I worked for recycles about 95% of the material they use. They obviously have done it for years and have become very proficient at it. Various containers are strategically placed up and down our assembly line. They are emptied routinely and adherence to the program is expected and normal.
We all want to get better. We want to heal our planet—at least most people do. We want to somehow deal with our trauma. Most of us want to get in shape and get healthy. But the problem with getting better is that most often when we try to do better, we experience it as pain. It may or may not be painful, but it seems hard because it requires something of us. I quit recycling at home because I got interested in other projects and recycling just seemed like arduous work.
We do not do challenging work because it feels like pain. Psychologists tell us that humans seek pleasure and avoid pain. This root sense of what to avoid and what to pursue seems like a logical way to stay alive. Eating the right foods and staying away from dangerous animals might be wise and valuable choices in many instances. But, if we are going to improve our lives, there is most often pain involved.
In my book, Being: A Journey Toward Presence and Authenticity, I accidentally wrote about pain twice. It is that important. Every day, advertisements tell us about a more pain-free way to make all our dreams come true. Even religion offers us a better way by promising miracles and inviting us to bypass our suffering with simple platitudes. But history teaches that all change is painful. It may not be as bad as we thought, and it will usually be worth it, but there will be some pain involved when we decide to change for the better.
The best example of this for me was two-a-day practices when I was in high school. My friend and I were employed locally but still had to go before and after work to get in shape. We were in shape, but our coach knew we needed to be at a higher level of fitness if we ever wanted to compete against other teams.
Changing our bodies from mere high-school students to athletes was going to require some pain. It hurt at first—a lot! In fact, after the first day, I could barely move. One of my brothers used to try to quit after the first day of football practice, but my dad would not let him. The coaches and my dad knew that after a few days, the pain would decrease in intensity, and we would be stronger, faster, and able to leap bigger toadstools in a single bound.
There are only about three options for pain. Pain (or discomfort at least) is always necessary for growth. We do not always have to be making great strides in our life, but when we want to do something new or heal our trauma, it will involve pain. Once we begin, there are about three categories of options.
Quitting
Quitting could have many voices. It might sound like this:
- “I give up…I do not want to do this…I should not have tried.
- “Maybe I will just naturally get in shape…maybe it will get better or just go away…”
- “Maybe God will…I am sure God wants…The universe surely will deliver…”
- “I can always start…tomorrow…when I’m not as busy…”
Almost nothing gets better without action toward the desired outcome. I authored this poem in one of the painful chapters in the Being book.
The first step may seem like it’s daunting,
To take it seems almost too massive.
But then we lean in, and then and again,
We learn there’s no progress that’s passive.
Exercise hurts a little at first, but if we do not exercise, walking up a flight of stairs is eventually painful. Dealing with our trauma may seem daunting at first, but little by little, we persist, and it makes our life much better. Avoiding the unfinished business of our lives guarantees we will see it again when it surfaces at the worst time.
Numbing
Most of us opt for numbing the pain in some way. We have lots of options for this. Hobbies, church activities, drugs, alcohol, food, and work can all be productive, but they can also keep us from doing the necessary things for growth. Usually, numbing agents do not make the pain go away, they just keep us from feeling it for a little while. Most often, it comes back stronger later.
Leaning in
The only effective option for dealing with pain is leaning into it. As some would say, “To heal it, we have to feel it.” We still feel the pain, but when we are present with it, it has a chance to get better. When we lean into the pain of exercise, we give ourselves the chance to get in better shape. When we are present with our trauma, we find healing and transformation. When we sit with our questions and the uneasiness, we give ourselves the chance to have purer spiritual experiences and to grow in awareness.
Leaning into our pain moves us from reacting to responding. Before we know it, things get easier instead of harder. It does not mean that everything is perfect or without struggle, but it does mean that we are engaged with our struggles, instead of bypassing or ignoring them. As hard as this sounds, there are still parts of our journey that can be even harder.
Early in life, I learned the value of working hard. I believed that people could do anything they wanted by setting goals, staying committed, and striving for personal excellence. I was good at pursuing the things that excited me, and I built a good life for myself and my family.
But eventually, I found this way of doing was not enough. I had to face the reality that, along the way, I had accumulated some residual trauma. My way of life accomplished things, but it also avoided things I did not have time to address. Twenty years in small-town ministries meant that I experienced some fantastic things, but unfortunately, it also meant that I spent over 2 decades avoiding and bypassing what I felt deep inside.
I learned that I needed some deep healing, and I discovered that it would not go away naturally. I also realized the necessary process of being instead of just doing. I was about to learn that being was not passive, like I had imagined, and it was the only way to find the true self that I heard others talk about. I had sometimes touched that part of me, but I was about to discover a new journey of presence and authenticity greater than I could have imagined.
Presence and Authenticity seem kind of passive because of my background. I imagine them as something weird that people talk about as they bypass real life. I discovered that, in my religion, I was the one bypassing the tough and necessary work of healing by engaging in religious platitudes and avoiding challenging work. The journey toward presence and authenticity would be learning that moved me closer to wholeness.
In my mind, the process works something like this.
In my book, Being: A Journey Toward Presence and Authenticity, I described this experience in more detail. But this summary should provide a framework for what I experienced. Your experience may be slightly different, but these three steps help us learn to live a life of being and becoming. I know it will be beneficial for you.
Step 1 – Facing My Woundedness
The weekend was different than the times before. Often, things that seemed unusual triggered me. Laura and I would just be talking or doing normal things, and something would cause us to argue or experience tension. We never really resolved these things; we just stuffed them down. This weekend was different, I repeatedly reacted to everything that happened in the wrong way.
My normal pattern was to bypass the issue, stuff it down, and go back to doing my life. But this weekend was different. Eventually, I found myself wandering around a track, not sure how I got there. I felt like my thoughts were crashing into each other, and it felt like everything I had ever pushed down was coming up at once. I knew what this felt like, but I had never felt it so severe. It was too big—it was too intense—and I did not know what to do.
I came back to the house and fell asleep. Laura and I talked, but we were not getting anywhere, and the experience had me exhausted, so I did the only thing I knew how to do.
I liked work because it often was not very nuanced. You most often get rewarded when you show up for work and do the job. If you work a little harder and plan a little better, it does not take long to make a mark and move past the competition. At my first real job after college, I completed a self-paced study course in under half the time of others, I overcame my shyness and moved up through the ranks. My only shortcoming was my adventurous nature which sent me off looking for the next important thing. I started over several times in life but was always able to bounce back and land on my feet.
But this time, going to work did not solve any problems. By the time I got there, I was a mess. I could not attend the meeting that was outside my office, so I made an excuse and started trying to figure out what to do. Eventually, my plans would lead to a hermitage at the place, where I would be attending spiritual direction training later that week.
I talked to two spiritual directors that first day via text. I sat down in a chair and texted Laura, and then I started blaming people. My friend encouraged me to “do some shadow work,” and told me to investigate a couple of books. I fell asleep exhausted that night without a plan or idea of what to do. I thought I should pray for a miracle. I believed that God could intervene, but I also realized how seldom that happened and that I often used this idea to bypass leaning into the issues I faced. I call it bypassing, which may be one of the biggest spiritual pitfalls we face.
The next day, I began reading Bringing Your Shadow Out of the Dark by Robert Augustus Masters. I was reading every word, underlining, highlighting, and writing notes on my laptop. I wanted to get this right, and if I could not go to work, I was going to work as hard as I could in this process.
Eventually, the book told me to place my hand where I feel what I am feeling. I knew that was my heart because it had been knotted up for two days. I eventually said to the part of me that felt rejected and abused, “I see you; I understand why you are feeling this way, I’ve got your back.” As I was present with the felt sense of a younger me, my life flashed before my eyes. Then I kept seeing my kids and my grandkids and I kept muttering, “I’ve got your back” and weeping in a way that I never had. This went on for what seemed like hours.
Afterward, I was exhausted, but I also felt reborn. I know now what I experienced was a form of focusing. I had learned something similar earlier that year, but I did not in any way know what I was doing. I was very simply just leaning into my pain. When I did this, my trauma began to shift, and I started to experience a being and becoming that I could not have imagined.
About 18 months later, I wrote down my experience, and to some degree, I relived all the emotions. Just like the initial examination, it was painful, but it was also worth it. Every time I encounter my woundedness, I get the opportunity to move toward wholeness and authenticity. I shared it with my friend, Mark Karris, who encouraged me to go deeper.
Step 2 – Going Deeper
My first reaction was to resist. But, by the time I wrote down my story, I understood this leaning in and how it might be beneficial, so I agreed to send him what I wrote, and I dove into each subject which later became Part 2 of the book.
I learned about my fear and how it caused me to freeze up and not face certain things. I learned that it was beneath other things like anger, and I sometimes pretended to be brave when I was afraid. I also started understanding how fear made me vulnerable to things like religion or anyone who was selling a solution to what I feared.
Speaking of anger, I learned that not all anger is bad. My parents encouraged me not to be loud or obnoxious and to keep my emotions in check. But sometimes we need to get angry, and in that situation, anger is the best thing to feel. We cannot exist there forever, but it was important to think through why I was feeling that way and what it was trying to tell me.
As you may have already noticed, bypassing was a huge discovery for me. I never remember this ever being discussed in my 20 years of ministry, but looking back, I can see where it was deeply embedded in the way we did church and our spiritual lives. Instead of leaning into issues, we would spiritually and emotionally bypass them with platitudes and practices that pacified us while we went on about our lives.
I always thought I had a voice as a pastor. I got to speak several times a week and I was always the one they asked to pray. But, when Laura and I wrote about her finding her voice after ministry, I realized much of my experience was saying what people wanted me to say. At the time, it seemed like I was challenging them, but it was always within certain boundaries.
I also examined my inner critic’s role in my dysfunction. Some call the inner critic the protector, because of its original intent. It was extremely helpful to take a closer look at the part of me that sabotaged me and led me down frustrating paths. When I went deeper and examined the origins of this part of me, I was able to heal even further and move to a more responsive way of being.
Step 3 – Learning to Be
When I discovered that a better life was about being and becoming and not so much about doing, many things opened for me. As I wrote the last section of my book, I titled each one “Being with…” and I felt like I was discovering the truth of each one as I was writing. For example, in the chapter “Being with the Divine,” I felt like I was coming to understand it even more while I was writing. In other words, even as I was attempting to explain being, I was also becoming.
Hopefully, I can break that down a little in the words that follow.
Being WHERE we are (Presence)
One of my favorite teachers was Ms. Beaty. In those days, teachers would take the roll. They would say your name and then instruct you to either say, “here” or “present.” At that time, both words meant the same thing, but we understand they can have different meanings. When my teacher asked, “Are you present?” she meant, “Are you here?” When Laura asks me “Are you here?” she means, “Are you present?”
I have been working at physical jobs for the past couple of years. Previously, I was in an office setting with somewhat of a management position. It is a long story, but suffice it to say, I am in transition, and I do not have a long-term plan currently. So, people will often ask me, “What is the plan?” or “What are you going to do next?”
My best answer for now is, “Today I’m loading things” or “Right now, I’m working on an assembly line.” I must tell myself the same thing every day, “This is where I am, and this is what I’m doing.”
There is a time to visit the past, just like I explained in my story. Sometimes we at least must have a felt sense of our past self and we can do some genuine healing there. We also must occasionally make some plans, but future trips often lead us on unnecessary adventures to unproductive living. The best place to be is where we are!
The best part about being present is that it not only makes us more productive, it also can heal us!
Being WHO we are (authenticity)
Integrity is one of the most important things to me. I have many people who are not my best friends, but the people that I hardly tolerate are people I do not respect. Integrity is not just telling the truth; it is being truthful about who we are to ourselves. It is not lying to ourselves.
Many of us who went through religious deconstruction experienced a sort of PTSD. We asked ourselves, “Who am I?” and “What do I like to do?” and “What do I now believe?” For so long, it was determined for us. Job one in evolving after deconstructing old beliefs is to deeply examine and discover who we are. Before we start chanting mantras about what we want to do and accomplish, we should set an intention to start becoming who we are.
Understanding and living from a place of authenticity is my number one intention for the second half of my life. I used to be determined to fit in because it made me successful, but now I want to be real because it helps me become more of who I have always been.
Becoming
In the same year that I had the experience I described above, I also discovered some key aspects of myself. It is a descriptive phrase that my friends at Heart Connexion call a “contract.” To me, it is just a description of my true self and how I want to live. It goes something like this: I am Playful, Adventurous, and Mystical.
Someone at work was trying to describe me the other day. I was joking around and making light of something while we were working hard. They described me in their way, but I said, “You mean that I am playful?”
They said, “Yes, that’s it!”
I said, “Good, because that’s who I am!”
I am becoming more of who I am. In a way, I am becoming fully human. Each of us has an isness that is unique to us. Removing the layers of trauma and leaning into the pain of growing can shift us away from the trauma and into a life of presence and authenticity. It is a being and becoming that I am just now learning to embrace more fully.
This is where I experience crisis and pain and learn to grow by stepping into them. This is where I experience a connection with nature and learn more about the universe and the Divine. I understand that I am OF God more than I am separate. I experience the presence of Presence in every cell of my body when I am with my dog, when I experience my body, and even when I am uncertain. I enjoy solitude because I am never really alone and even when I am with difficult people, I exist with them in presence and authenticity.
In the last chapter of the Being book, I discuss bravery and vulnerability. More than anything else, people praise me for being vulnerable. Authors like Brené Brown realize that there is no bravery without vulnerability. Just like moving forward involves pain, it also makes us vulnerable. I do not think I can challenge you to play it safe and encourage you at all.
I want to encourage you to take the next courageous step. I realize that the next step will make you vulnerable and cause you some pain. But the pain subsides, and you will start being and becoming who you always were. It will not be easy—but it will be worth it.
Be where you are, be who you are, be at peace.
Karl Forehand
God Treats Me Like a Christian
A Treasure Trove of Trauma Resources
Karl Forehand is a former pastor, podcaster, and award-winning author. His books include Out into the Desert, Leaning Forward, Apparent Faith: What Fatherhood Taught Me About the Father’s Heart, The Tea Shop and Being: A Journey Toward Presence and Authenticity. He is the creator of The Desert Sanctuary podcast and community. He is married to his wife Laura of 35 years and has one dog named Winston. His three children are grown and are beginning to multiply! You can read more about the author here.
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