Photo by Davide Cantelli on Unsplash
When I experience trauma, I also feel the soul-wound of separation — separation from myself, from others, and life in this moment. As humans, inherently social by nature, we tend to hide this feeling of disconnection behind layers of shame.
In my early adulthood, I felt so out of sync with the world that I became a stranger in my own body — going through the motions while carrying a deep, unspoken shame that I didn’t belong.
This inner landscape of trauma stood in stark contrast to the “happy family” narrative I grew up with. When I finally left home, I carried a crushing burden, something I couldn’t understand or forgive myself for. My story, though deeply personal, is not uncommon for children born in the 1950s: I grew up mothering my mother, living with a volatile father, trying to protect my older brother with Asperger syndrome from bullies, and being told at four years old that my newborn sister was “my baby” — so my brother wouldn’t feel jealousy.
And yet, despite — or perhaps because of — these, I also experienced moments of profound stillness and beauty. Initially, these moments surfaced in nature. However, when I discovered Christian scripture at age twelve, my nightly readings unlocked a door to mystical experiences. For over two years, these soul-stirring encounters flowed through me, offering a deep sense of belonging, even in the chaos of my family life. In these moments, I belonged unconditionally.
The timeless experience of belonging to God, Source, or Timeless Wisdom (fill in the word that resonates for you) is woven so deeply into the fabric of life that it becomes inseparable from our very nervous systems. I felt my body responding in joyful flow, as though I had done nothing to deserve it. As the spiritual teacher Gangaji puts it:
“The whole world is searching for release from the experience of separation. The worldly search is for more to acquire and accumulate. Finally, through Grace, your search has pointed you back… directly meeting that which is most feared, most dreaded, there is the realization of Home.”
— Gangaji, You Are That!, 1995
This is the essence of Grace: the return to what is already within us. It is the quiet realization of Home.
We cannot live in a world that is not our own,
in a world interpreted for us by others.
An interpreted world is not a home.
Part of the terror is to take back our own listening,
to use our own voice, to see our own light.
— Hildegard von Bingen, 12th-century mystic