2 days and 2 sessions planned in the beginning of June a
corporate gathering to the place of
Alliston. We would journey there thinking when we walked through the
door that we had arrived when in truth the journey had just begun.
As the person at the top of the circle thanked and honored the
very ground we were situated on as First nations land my heart began to open
up. Then she started the two-way conversation with Inventory time. Who am I? what do I do? and what was I feeling? Think, think, feel. Charmaine
is ...“more than just a Doula “and I
felt that I was right where I was supposed to be at that very moment in my life.
What a lofty statement.
First impressions count, here was a woman so large that her
words were like an ocean being dropped into your cup of water, that was how my
spirit encountered her, I decide to make a choice to sit in these sessions as a
student and learn. I also felt each
person in the room as they too shared what they felt. It became a corporate
feeling of oneness for me. I began to let go of predetermined assumptions, continuing
to let go for the next 33 hours. But I acknowledged that I am… the only woman of
color in the room.
No agenda letting it flow and parking questions so we can
continue until the time we arrive. This mastery would keep us on schedule.
As we continued to unpack
the word “trauma” we each softly embraced that each of us was somehow affected in
a unique way. Beginning now to look
inward to see where the pain was originating from and where it was seated. My senses were so heightened that even the
smell of cinnamon drew my attention away. I thanked someone out loud for the break,
just a moment to breathe.
Where are you carrying the effects of your abuse in your
body for surely you have embodied it.
But no I had already danced it
out- let it go and allowed my new
cellular normal to begin to create my future.
I was a new creation but I would walk this weekend in
vulnerable transparency to the truth of my past and the strength of my present
and the many questions of my tomorrow. Hoping and praying that the one
continual tear that constantly fell from my left eye was a state of healing not
just for me but for humanity.
Till the words emerged “I am not like my mother”. It
vibrated in me like a Chinese gong so loud that I could not only hear it but I
also felt it at my very core- I had made a declaration against my heritage and
was now on a trajectory that was leading me to begin to receive that which I
had rejected that not only belonged to me but that I needed for this next phase
on my pathway. I was the best of my mom and the worst of my mother and the
process of working this out was happening in the confines of my Doula work.
Though the experience
of trauma is in the eye of the beholder we are called to harm reduction and yet
I could see the many ways that I had somehow participated in re-injuring ,
re-opening, re-traumatizing other peoples old scars to become new wounds.
Realizing that the very organizations that we as health and welfare care
providers work for are sometimes the perpetrators of re-offending an individual
in their most vulnerable moment. This was breaking my heart.
But in the stretch we would sit in a dark enclosed theater and see the view of the world and the ignorance of our growth and how it still
affected people today. Marginalized, stigmatized, immobilized, criticized, I can’t
breathe. This is not just them this is me.
She asks me what do I need? I need to continue and allow
empathy to guide. So I carry on.
Bringing the bananas seemed like such a powerless action and
I struggled to find out if there was more in my bag of tools that could
possibly replace this as it did not seem like enough to me.
My checkbox of adverse childhood experiences was so sad-10
out of 10 a perfect score that should have rendered me unhealthy, but God…
Thankful for the resilience that became apart of my DNA and the trauma informed
therapy I received through dancing with God across the world. I am a living
testament that change can happen and that your past though it may limit your
privileges does not have to predetermine your future. More tears so hard my
head hurts. A little Frankincense a
little Myrrh essential oil applied – I begin to vibrate at a higher frequency.
I say a little prayer.
As she moved from slide to slide sharing her years of
knowledge and increased wisdom she had gained over the years I was triggered
and it felt like at one of the deepest levels of my being layers were being
pulled back and the raw, real, honest truth was being exposed. I was exposed,
un-robed, naked and vulnerable and I was truly still feeling safe. This was a
safe space and there was room for even me. So I leaned in a bit deeper and let
the pain rise to the surface. Not really knowing what to-do next but just sit
in it… I began to remember the feeling
and never relenting work of 49 years of surviving. A lump developed in my
throat and I struggled to swallow without letting the sobs escape.
As we ended the first day I committed to stay in the hot
loneliness of this pain and let it transform and enlighten me. As I hugged the
speaker just needing someone to release what I was experiencing she thanked me
and gave permission for me to do the work.
This was about birth or was it really? Maybe it was more
about death, death of judgments, assumptions, otherness, labels, and more. Or
maybe they are one in the same.
As I came to the end of myself I also came to so many
questions. If I am not here to solve anything then why I am I here? To just
hold space for someone else to find the answer. I know I am no ones saviour so then why do I feel like I have this
need to save people? Where does God and spirituality fit into this as this is a
big part of my world. When I mess up as I know I will because birth is inherently
unpredictable and I can’t possibly prepare for every scenario, what do I do
next to minimize the fallout. What about her?
Laughter is the only thing that sometimes eases the
pressure, without taking away the painful truth. So I laugh, really hard, over
and over and over. Then I rest.
A new day. Yesterday was sunny and full of sunshine, today
is stormy and full of rain. But we must take every situation as good, letting
them bring balance to our life and our world.
Inventory time where am I today- still feeling like I am
exactly where I need to be at this moment in my life.
Am I the first person you have told this to and if not how
did they respond? Most likely I many times will be a first responder to their
traumatic story that to them may seem normal, because for me Orange is the new
Black as they say.
My body speaks and what is it saying? I am cold and need a
blanket to wrap myself up. Maybe I am not feeling so safe today. More information via a story but I shut down
and don’t listen as it is too painful a reminder of the work I do and the
vicarious trauma I experience. So, I
eat. Eat chocolate my go to fix it food, Comfort sets in as my sugar levels
rise.
Then I purpose again to stay present to the moment and focus
on each task, putting the distractions away, again leaning into the discomfort.
We begin to discuss
what safe means and how to build trust. Wow this was the themes of almost every
therapy session I have ever attended. I have the answers but is it enough? Am I
safe? can I trust? How can I help others at risk to trust me if this question
still lingers?
I begin to mindfully replay the many stories I have
witnessed, personal and professionally. I am intentionally uncomfortable trying
to feel the impact of how these have shaped my perception and responses. Why have I left out the impact that my childhood
sexual abuse had on my pregnancies out of my recently written book about my
five births and how do I unpack what that would look like to not leave out that
aspect of my experience?
As we worked in groups I get to connect with some of the
most caring professional care givers in many different birth contexts such as, labor
and delivery nurses, midwives, doulas, massage therapists, childbirth educators,
social worker and a spiritual Psychotherapist. But I don’t see them through
this lens, I begin to see their inward hearts. Wow now my heart is overflowing.
Love has a unique way of sneaking in. Now that constant tear is streaming out
of just my left eye like a signal that I a not in control even of my natural
body functions. As I brush it away I am fully aware that the significance is
very important and that I can not take what is happening lightly.
After a lunch of comfort soup, I carry my blanket and wrap myself up and am
excited that they have provided play dough for us to relieve stress. For me it
released my creativity as I always hear better when I am in creation mode. Seemingly
preoccupied I use the soft pliable green dough to make a caterpillar,
butterfly, tree, pregnant woman, cradled baby, flower and few more shapes, but
in reality I am hearing at a whole new level. I begin to feel free and even
smile and chuckle out loud.
Again with each slide shared I am looking to continue in
student mode and find at least one thing that is new to me and write it down, I
also contribute some of my experiences and questions and begin to feel a new
confidence that the previous work I have done with survivors is very similar to
pregnant women going through this.
The rain has now stopped and the sun has begun to peak
through the clouds and the unnatural lights we turned on are no longer needed.
We are sitting in the light. And for some strange reason I no longer feel cold.
No blanket necessary.
Another phrase to add to my vocabulary is “It all depends”.
Which says that each situation will need to be assessed with its own criteria
and then evaluated as to the best practice for that specific desired outcome. This
means there is no one set answer for each situation.
I also say again that I am more than “just a Doula” as I
hear another person use these words to describe the power dynamics between
health care professionals and Doulas.
Girl… that’s rough. That’s where I come from and who I am.
Cultural relevancy is my answer as many of the talk we use would be fake and
seem unreal to me or my clients. Each need to find the space they are called
to. Urban behavior is what I know. So I go to the urban dictionary. Yet my
mind translates all the correct lingo and language so the output is in essence
the same.
Grounding exercises I have been trying to stay grounded the
entire weekend, tapping my knees, breathing deeply, focus, focus, focus. Not
just an exercise but a way to survive and thrive.
And last but most importantly the repetitious teaching of
self care and preservation. In this work and all work that involves humans and
the reality of their existence and the pain of their encounters is the need to
consistently put on your breathing mask before helping anyone else. I have let
this become essential to my lifestyle, not a luxury but a necessity.
My stone is to bear witness that I was here and that when I
forget I will remember that I began this good work and someone else will be
faithful to finish it. The time of our collective energy had come to an end.
After the good byes and on the car ride home we drive
through a rain shower and both the rain and the sun are simultaneously
occurring. I remember that you have to see both as good and let them create for
you … oh my word it’s a rainbow draped across the sky! I scream like a little
girl so loud I startle the other her in the car. Rainbows speak of promises to
me. They symbolize every journey I have ever taken. A sign from God that I am
on the right path. I scream and cry and am so grateful for this moment in time.
It has been a safe passage. Thank you.
Charmaine Hinds June 2017
