temporary amnesia
Travel enriches me in many ways. Apart from novelty and discovery, new surroundings help me to temporarily forget things that usually weigh me down. Certain familiar things back home trigger uncomfortable feelings…
tags /trauma /
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a wet mouldy sponge
Yesterday after a strength-training session I had a very innocuous mini argument with my partner about misplacing some things at home. Which after I simply slumped and curled up into a ball…
practicing is also a practice
Most skills if not all requires practice. Recently I realised to be capable of the discipline and regularity that practicing needs, is a practicable skill too. We think of discipline as some inherent character…
different realities under the same blue sky
My partner and I were were surprised we had radically different interpretations of a particular scene of a kdrama we had just watched. She had thought the lines were full of hope…
chronic unease
Some people are good at denial, forgetting, and moving on. I am good at none of those. I accumulate trauma, remember them deeply like they are etched into my bones helpless as…
working with my triggers
I used to get triggered really easily. Something seemingly innocuous would set me off – sometimes I was good at hiding my feelings on my face especially if it was in a…
The Trauma of Everyday Life
go toward them
The better he became at meditation, the more it helped him face trauma he’d experienced and learn and explore. Sometimes terrible memories and fears—of execution, of guards—arose, but he used meditation to push them aside—to try to transcend the pain he’d carried with him his whole life. But now Pema challenged him to go back to the worst memories and fears again—to intentionally meditate on them. She said not to push them away, not to try to transcend them, not to run from them, but to go toward them.
nine foster homes and three boys’ homes
After that Jarvis was placed in nine foster homes and three boys’ homes, including some in which he was starved, beaten, and kept in squalor. At thirteen, he was moved from the foster care system into the division of juvenile justice, where the brutal treatment escalated. When he was arrested for petty crimes—stealing a bicycle, joyriding—he was placed in youth detention centers, where he was subjected to more beatings, burned, locked in closets, and made to pummel other boys. If he refused, counselors beat him harder.
The Buddhist on Death Row
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