Yesterday in the aqua-land of PortAventura I observed how a 7-8 years old girl was waiting at a guard-station, which oversaw a flowing magic river. She was accompanied by a woman guard.
Then the girl saw something, the women asked something, the girl nodded, and the woman smiled warmly and happily, and let her go. The girl started to walk slowly to my direction (I sat by the side of some stairs that lead to this slowly billowing river,) and with each step, her face looked more broken, more about to cry.
Then I saw. Her parents were finally arriving at the spot, she must have lost them on the way. They also carried a baby sister with them. As soon as they climbed out, the girl started to cry, finally letting out her freaking-out-panic of having lost her parents. It must have been a really hard thing for her, as it was an English speaking family…
Then the parents tried to talk it through.. and reason… as they did their best to understand her. I silently wished that they’d just give her an enormous hug. It’s tough to feel lost in an enormous park where you don’t speak the language…
Then everything was settled when the girl (THE GIRL) stepped toward her mom and gave and got a small hug from her: she clung on her just a bit, like making it real that she’s there, touchable (while the mom was holding the baby). And she went away with her dad, back to the circuit.
When they passed on, we smiled at each other with the mom, as she came to collect their stuff and our eyes met.
Sigh. This little story made it on my postcard, as it shows beautifully how our nervous system works. Biologically we are hard-wired by our neurological system to instinctively react to certain traumatic (emotional/relational/physical) situations. Many times we are incapable to express our basic emotions, because we don’t feel safe enough, and because we need to take care of things (e.g. contact a lifeguard because I can’t find my parents – that was REALLY clever, by the way). We can only let go of all this toxic, automatically produced hormones physically. That means that the body needs to do something at the first place.
So what happened here, was that when the little girl saw her parents, she instinctively knew that she was safe, and could let go of those shocking emotions that kept her almost frozen in fear (of being lost).
Crying, laughing, sweating, trembling, yelling all fall in this “letting go” category. Even though her parents couldn’t really understand her, she did her process, she was listened to, supported and accepted as she was, even freaking out and crying, and got her healing hug at the end. And then the crying was gone in one second.
All beautiful people. I felt so grateful to have been able to witness this nourishing teaching.
As I started to work with TRE© (a trauma release method developed by David Berceli) recently (I am still in formation, but can already work with persons), I see all these situations with different eyes. Of course, my therapeutic work help as well, as each complements the other wonderfully, still it’s since I work with TRE© that I started to recognize clear signs of shock and trauma release when it happens. It’s beautiful. It helps me to understand our patterns better.
Therefore, today’s postcard is to honor all the light and the shadow, the twofold nature we find inside and outside. It’s their dynamic that makes us grow, and it’s their balance that makes us whole. In a healing hug.
PD: Twelfth class was done today. I feel a bit overwhelmed, but it’s OK. The pronunciation is still a challenge.