A Temporary Reprieve

Saturday, November 22, 2014

The world has turned sloppy outside.  A warm, moist airmass is attempting to replace the frigid air we have been experiencing the last eleven days.  So now the skies are gray, there is liquid water and the wind doesn’t actually sting my face.  I suppose I should be happy for the reprieve.  But all the slop and liquid water is only going to once again refreeze next week when it turns cold again.

The gray, still morning matches my mood.  The grief and sadness is still there inside my heart.  There is more of it than I want to bear.  So I am going to go to the Basilica of St. Mary this weekend and try to pray away some of my grief.  I’ve been moving forward in my process of healing for many months now.  There have been some lulls in which I felt my forward progress seemed to come to a standstill.  This past March was one such time.  And then the last six weeks have been another time of apparent standstill.

Standstill is necessary at times.  We cannot be perpetual motion machines for short or long periods of time.  We must have periods of rest both each and every day as well as throughout our lives.  Finding a balance in our lives is necessary to achieving abiding health and happiness.  I have been gradually learning more and more how to create balance in my life.  But like the journey of healing creating a balanced life is a process.

I had another moment recently in which I felt my faith well up within me.  By ‘faith’ I do not mean to describe any particular religious affiliation.  I mean to instead describe my confidence that one day there will indeed be an endpoint to my therapeutic odyssey.  One day I will have done enough therapy that I will no longer feel the desire or need to attend still more.  That day might actually already be within the next twelve months of time.  I do feel myself gradually drawing closer to that special endpoint.  When it comes it will be a time for immense celebration.

As for now I am still slogging along through that first full calendar year of time in which I am sub-clinical for PTSD.  I am doing everything I can do to move forward and maintain the integrity of my recovery process.

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I had the unexpected pleasure of being reminded that I am not alone in some of the suffering I have experienced in my life.  We all live lives that are unique stories but many of our life journeys are interwoven with some of the same thematic threads. 

While enjoying a Saturday morning breakfast at the Germanic American Institute I met a woman who was actively promoting a book she had written.  The author, Rita Reinecker, wrote a memoir entitled Dance with Me, Papa.  The promotional card I took with me describes her book in the following way:

‘Reinecker’s debut volume, set primarily in postwar Germany, is her personal exploration of the consequences of growing up in a dysfunctional family headed by an absentee father and ruled by an unaffectionate mother.’

Reinecker is definitely a kindred spirit.  I know what it’s like to grow up in a dysfunctional family.  My father was physically present but often emotionally absent.  And my experience of the mother archetype is a virtual saga.  It was consoling to meet another person who has taken the journey of self-inquiry.  Such self examination is so vital to living a well adjusted life.  And the necessity of such exploration is even greater for those who, like myself, grew up in what I like to softly describe as ‘less than optimal circumstances’.  When unacknowledged and unattended to family dysfunction can contaminate the hearts and minds of future generations.

I came away from this unexpected encounter reminded of another important reality I need to remember as I continue my own exploration.  There is healing, love, companionship, joy and immense possibility in the world but you have to put yourself out there and be open to it finding you.