I haven’t felt like writing much lately. Perhaps it’s my mind’s way of sitting out to heal, relax and take a few breaths. The pain/joy of a well-lived and enduring existence means that at times, events force you to expose old wounds. The resurrection of ghosts, relived trauma and demons becomes a part of your life cycle. I’m so much better equipped and emotionally armed than I’ve ever been but exhaustion takes its toll nonetheless. Unfortunately, that trend appears to have no end. So here I am again, processing what I cannot digest in words, bleeding my thoughts so old wounds can transform me. A recent trip to Yellowstone and a very tragic uncovered truth in Kamloops, B.C., crushed me in a way that is difficult to put into words.
My public education in Vancouver, B.C. generated a love of mythology, creation stories, and exposure to various cultures. In British Columbia, we have a strong emphasis on Indigenous cultures. It is a cultural heritage that I feel a deep appreciation for and is steeped in conservationist roots. I remember many historical lessons today fondly and during a recent trip to Montana was able to recall long-buried details from my childhood education. The art and landscape around Yellowstone are rich with history. Indigenous creations myths and stories feel alive there. The art galleries of Livingston, Montana are filled with blended references. Modernity meeting the ancients in glorious communal displays. It was a friendly reminder that herds, peoples, and nature will shape the land together, borders notwithstanding.
You’d have to be living under a rock to have not heard about the discovery of two hundred plus bodies of children uncovered in Kamloops at what was once one of the largest Indigenous residential schools. These events are not isolated to Canada. A cursory search on the topic is littered with references to a history we so badly want to ignore. Rewriting or omitting historical events is a denial of the truth. We are right as a society to mourn and acknowledge the deaths of these children. Historical denial leaves a gaping open wound for suffering communities. Compassionate outreach is the first step in any dialogue.
It’s a recurring theme with dominant regimes. Whether the children are Yemeni, Syrian, Tibetan, Rohingya, Palestinian, Uighur, poor white, or black American, the results are soul-shattering. Discussing oppressor/oppressed dynamics is almost banal to an acute observer of history. The rawness of this kind of emotional destruction is crushing. The systemic annihilation of human beings and the lands they steward under the quiet creeping cancer of propaganda and denial of individual freedom is a crime against humanity. It’s very important to acknowledge that this isn’t a long-ago past but quite recent.
In order for people to move forward integration of our past is important. It’s necessary to teach our children a balanced version of history that includes these truths lest we forget our past and continue repeating the same mistakes. Denial of this kind of violence is a violation of every religious, moral, and philosophical law. How does forgiveness factor into events like this? I don’t believe it does. There is no reconciliation or restorative justice to be had here. Only the acceptance and processing of those in pain.
My sister and I have had many discussions over the years about forgiveness. We have both witnessed abuse at the hands of selfish, tortured men. The trauma unleashed by these seemingly unforgivable acts lasts decades, sometimes a lifetime, and as some evidence suggests — generations. While it can crush the human spirit as the abuser intended, sometimes it can be transformative. To deny anyone the right to your humanity is revolutionary. To not become the oppressor and break all bonds in this scenario is the goal. Herein lies the duality.
Religions the world over advocate turning the other cheek and letting go of anger. Perhaps the aggrieved are seen as saintly when they forgive because it takes superhuman strength to do so in a way that preserves a person’s humanity.
“Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”
Refrains like this litter self-help culture while they step on the same people most likely to suffer from unprocessed trauma. While there is truth in these statements, they are too simplistic. I will not drink poison and I will not have another person do so on my behalf or anyone else’s. When I say to another human being ‘I see you’, it means I acknowledge all of you. Your past, your trauma, your joy, and all of the multitudes that exist within you. There is no pity, there is no denial, there may be mutual suffering at the pain of another conscious being. As all religions and philosophies acknowledge, in essence we are the same, with the same inalienable rights.
There can be wisdom in anger if channeled correctly. I know trauma is a living demon for many men women and children. I’ve been so fortunate in my life to be surrounded by some strong, loving, supportive men who have met me wherever I am. It’s an environment all women should experience and I am so thankful for their existence and guidance. But most of the trauma I’ve witnessed has been inflicted by small men, with egos that literally consume everything they see without remorse. The onus is almost always on survivors to forgive. There is very little discussion about the monsters of consumption to fulfill their every desire. Restraint isn’t a word in the vocabulary of people like this. The single most enduring lesson my mother taught me was to remember how people treat you. Know who your allies and enemies are. Accept people where they are, but expecting them to change is human folly. That is poor judgment.
Accountability is required for the aggrieved. Revenge is a concept completely unpalatable to me. Whenever someone wrongs me, something reigns me in from retaliating. Perhaps it is the awareness that the cycles of abuse never seem to end. It is a truth I cannot bypass. In contrast to the dark place of ego, destruction, and trauma there is the other side of the coin. This is the perfect analogy of the dual nature of reality. Activism often blossoms out of the ugliest circumstances.
The ability of the natural world to endure the harshest environments leaves me in awe. There is something so profoundly inspiring about witnessing the spirit thrive. That spirit lives in all things, not just people. Those with a deep respect for the natural world will understand this sentiment. Watching Bison roam the plains of Yellowstone reminded me of that.
There is a subtle difference between the righteous anger of injustice and the petulant anger of a child. Swallowing injustice is just as vicious as drinking the poison. This is when anger is justified and comes from a place of wisdom. Refraining from harming others emotionally/physically and redirecting that energy into constructive manifestations is the pursuit of real justice. The aggrieved and the aggressor will never co-exist with any harmony when power is so unevenly distributed. Pain can birth you into an entirely different version of yourself if you are willing. It’s a torturous process but coming out on the other side is to live and thrive. That is my all-consuming wish for future generations — to thrive in ways we can only imagine.
A special thank you to Robert Osborn- your photography left me mournful and yet inspired. I am eagerly anticipating your next book.
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My personal soundtrack has grown, it’s unsettling. Faith Richards-’Bold’ is haunting my dreamscapes.
Go forth, Break bread, drink wine: I’m super excited to see my sister. We’ve been making Peach Sangria for many years. Skip the sugar. Add bubbly instead or wine if you like.
