All alone, I sat waiting. I was lost. It was not that I did not know where I was, nor where I was going, nor even where I had come from… No, it was deeper than that. Lost was a sadness that penetrated so deep within me that my very existence seemed indifferent, dismissible, and worthless. Lost was me without worth; it was a sense that there was no such thing as an identity within me; lost was me without knowledge of my innate disposition, and instead, with only the knowledge of who I had been programed to be. A small insignificant being: disoriented, unintegrated, unable to effectively communicate, and living in chaos and rigidity.
Although innate disposition – the temperament with which we are born – produces enduring identity, significant socialising influences have the ability to develop and emphasise particular identity suppressing defenses that present unconsciously and without effort (Siegel, 2010, pp. 153 & 174). These developed defenses often cause chaotic and rigid lifestyles (Siegel, 2010, pp. 152 -153). Accordingly, until one can come to acknowledge that which is innate and those that are developed defenses; that is, to go beyond the wounds and to discover a rich subjective inner life, one’s wholeness and consequently one’s ability to be fulfilled in God’s intended purpose will be inhibited (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, pp. 38-52).
Expressly in relation to my own journey, it was not until I came to acknowledge that the wounds of authoritarian parenting and schooling, combined with an attachment loss, had bound me to a life lived in fear of rejection and in utilising compliance to authority to fulfill my needs (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 107; Cloud & Townsend, 1992, pp. 51-54), was I able to become integrated in my innate disposition. In saying that, and in order to move forward in healing, I choose to continually attune to my inner subjective life (Siegel, 2010, p. 14) with an understanding of my developed defenses. This allows me to continually be fulfilled in my true identity: my disposition in God’s image and purpose (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 240).
While at first the above notion seems extensive and without resolve to woundedness, within this essay I will explore the value of, and offer illustration to, understanding my past in truth, creating coherent narrative, and coming to identity. These three elements are vital to the integrated self, and thus once comprehended within my inner subjective life freeing me to be the wounded healer God intended me to be.
UNDERSTANDING MY PAST IN TRUTH
I have always been very aware of the nature verses nurture notion – how does biological temperament interact with socialisation in order to create identity (Keating, 2010, p.1)? From my own experience and research I have come to subjectively understand that while I do have an innate disposition, it has been greatly affected by my socialisation, particularly in early childhood, and by unsupportive interpersonal experiences (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 35; Siegel, 2010). As I conceptualise theory and experience I clearly resonate with the notion that early interpersonal experiences are by far the most significant socialising model in terms of long-term emotional development, as well as in terms of interpersonal relationship experiences, behaviours, interactions, and outcomes (Richters & Waters, 1991, pp. 1 & 6; Flanagan, 2002, p. 103). Furthermore, how I make sense of these experiences is the means that releases me to be in relationship that is not implicitly constricted to attachments created in childhood (Siegel, 2010, p. 163).
My own childhood was one that failed to provide a secure base. There was no ultimate reality of God, and as far as my memory takes me, while I began life in love, there was always rejection. More pertinently, as I look back on it now, shame and fear impeded my explicit recollections, and remained trapped in my implicit memory causing me to live in constant fear of authority, in chaos and rigidity, and in disorganised attachments (Sroufe & Siegel, n.d., p. 8).
The intellectualised story unfolds as that where patterns of fear, distress, and rejection, began from a significant move to a non-English speaking country at the age of six. At one of the most socially decisive stages of my childhood (Erickson, 2014, p. 234) I was removed from the only world I had every known: that of a safe extended family environment, healthy attachments at school, and loyal friendships developed from early childhood. I was thrust into an unknown world where authoritarian learning was promoted; where I was not allowed to disagree or to say “no” without severe punishment (Cloud & Townsend, 1992, pp. 52-53); where “bad” behaviours were not explained nor separated from character; and where I was bullied by both authority and peers for my differences. With all secure attachments shattered, and with home life significantly altered by the stress of change, I have come to recognise that a strong sense of identity inadequacy and loss of hope resulted (Erickson, 2014, p. 233).
Furthermore, the contradiction I felt inside between who I was being told I was compared to my innate disposition (Erickson, 2014, p. 234) caused me to fall deeper into insecurity and the inability to integrate my emotions and experiences (Siegel, 2010, pp. 188-189). This was further exacerbated on the return to my home country. After three and a half years of authoritarian and disorganised attachments, I returned home to be faced with overt dismissal from old friends, the (perceived) ultimate rejection from my mother dying not long before my twelfth birthday, followed by the noteworthy transition into high school where once again authoritarian learning was promoted; only this time with God as the dictatorial authority. These significant changes affecting my already tormented mind, and perpetuated by continual psychological bullying in which no one stood up for me (teachers nor parental figures).
In understanding my past in truth I have come to recognise the impact these interpersonal experiences had on my innate disposition, and thus my life. The abovementioned varying levels of trauma significantly impaired my integration, causing my mind to become rigid in perception and response (Siegel, 2010, pp. 188-189; Siegel, 2007, p. 337). New interactions reflected old interpersonal experiences and I was unable to adapt in order see the truth. Thus, I was unable to see the walls that had formed in protection of the innate disposition deep down I knew had been suppressed beyond ordinary reclamation (Bowlby, 2008, pp. 13, 240, & 288; Siegel, 2010, pp. 189-190; Graham, 2008, ¶7; Thompson & Thompson, 2000, pp. 47, 50-52).
Essentially, I was lacking a coherent narrative: a truth formed from “making sense [of] reflections on the past, authenticity in the present, and accurate predictive value for the future” (Siegel, 2010, p. 89). As a result, I was unable to participate in interpersonal experiences that reflected presence, attunement, and resonating acceptance (Siegel, 2010), and was thus imprisoned by rage, denial and fantasy, possessiveness, guilt, fear, impulsivity, regression and withdrawal (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, pp. 54-59). Past experiences combined with learned patterns of processing (Siegel, 2010, p. 159) created a reference point of rejection and in turn walls of defense that altered my internal focus away from my innate disposition (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 66). This in turn governed behaviours that did not reflect the person that God intended me to be (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 35; Siegel, 2010, p. 165).
CREATING COHERENT NARRATIVE
With the above in mind, it is only when I openly acknowledged and accepted the impact that the incoherent internal narratives had over me, I was able to “loosen their grip” on my life (Siegel, 2010, p. 185) and to find freedom in understanding the walls that bound me in passivity (Siegel, 2010, p. 185; Thompson & Thompson, 2007, p. 66). I came to awareness of the inadequate socialisation, and I began to see the resulting boundary impediments (Cloud & Townsend, 2007, pp. 76-84), patterns of processing (Siegel, 2010, pp. 152-196), as well as the walls that were created in protection from unresolved trauma and rejection (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, pp. 66 & 69). Furthermore, I came to understand the key in creating the coherent narrative imperative to revealing my innate disposition, was that of allowing myself to come to awareness of emotions in the present that belonged in the past (suppressed emotion), as well as to conceptualise and learn to develop the wisdom to understand the traits within me which could be changed, and that which could not (Siegel, 2010, p. 186).
Even now I find it hard to fathom, yet paradoxically it makes much sense to me, that putting the pieces together of my interpersonal betrayal was the key. When I came to coherently see and accept the aforementioned narrative in chronological order as a betrayal of my innate disposition in my early and middle childhood. Moreover I was able to come to a place in which my past subjective inner narrative; that is, one that was dominated by sadness and depression, intense self-loathing, inferiority and insecurity, guilt, and unresolvable despair (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 68), no longer held the power to imprison me in repetitive interpersonal betrayals.
Furthermore, when I came to put the pieces together I saw that the resulting behaviours of emotions based in rejection seemed to follow “pervasive patterns of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects, and marked impulsivity… present in a variety of contexts…” (Briere & Scott, 2015, p. 56). With coherent narrative I was, in a logical sense, able to make sense of fears of authority and anger, my constant need to please others, my possessiveness based in intense fears of being left, my inability to ask for respect where respect was due, my distorted and fanaticised need of a mother, intense grief and depression based in guilt, lack in a impulse control inconsistently against harsh self control, and emotional deregulation resulting inability to control intense and personified rage and grief (Cloud & Townsend, 2007, pp. 51-62; Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 52-66).
In working through my inner narrative, I broadened my understanding that an inability to say “no” (Cloud & Townsend, 2007, p. 51) stemmed from authoritarian relationships and the intense fear of consequence and rejection in “no”, and the guilt that came from disappointing those I desperately wanted to love me (Cloud & Townsend, 2007, p. 53; Thompson & Thompson, 2000, pp. 79 & 130). Moreover, I now understand that in my narrative of distorted needs, I was my own worst enemy, seeking both boundary breaking and suppressive authority figures to strengthen the walls, and yet retreating from relationship when in deep distress (Cloud & Townsend, 2007, pp. 222-224). That is, attempting to use a self-created sense of control in order to make sense of the incoherent narrative that penetrated my existence (Cloud & Townsend, 2007, pp. 222-224).
I was indeed longing to give a deeper sense of myself, to offer my innate disposition to be reciprocated in relationship, yet due to my lack of boundaries and the strong walls of defense I had created over time, I subconsciously offered myself to those who abused it (Crabb, 1997, pp. 71-72). As such, the cycle of compliance and thus rejection continued until, with knowledge and acceptance of my coherent narrative, I moved towards new behaviours that reflected my innate disposition rather than away from it (Siegel, 2010, p. 185).
COMING TO IDENTITY
There was, and always is, a choice: to move towards the pain and allow my innate disposition to be revealed through creating the coherent narrative that allows for change, or to remain stagnant (Crabb, 1997, p. 72). More often than not, we find ourselves placed at the foot of cross roads where one path leads to God and to freedom in relationship, and where the other leads us further along a path of chaos and rigidity (Siegel, 2010, p.185). It is only in choosing God that we, I, can continue to move away from the grips of a controlling world and its people, and more towards the eternal freedom of the Cross and begin to find purpose in my coherent narrative and thus my innate disposition (Crabb, 1997, p.72; Nouwen, 1992, p. 122).
With the choice to take the path to freedom made and with a sense of a coherent narrative, I am able to move towards the autonomy in relationship that The Cross offers by understanding that the walls of my defense (the aforementioned behaviours as understood through coherent narrative) will remain until I forgive others and accept my own forgiveness. In the truth that is found in consciously changing behaviours, and as the walls of defense begin to break down from finding cohesion in narrative and forgiveness, a space is opened up that begins to allow me to have deep connected interpersonal relationships with mindful openness and receptivity (Siegel, 2010, p. 185; Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p.33). This in turn allows me to see the humility and bonds of peace that reside in my innate disposition, that which, though always will remain with the scars of my wounds, can be offered in service to others (Eph 4:2-7, NIV) potentially opening their eyes and hearts to that which suffering offers (Neuwen, 2014, p.97).
Over time I have come to conceptualise that in understanding my walls of defense, and with Christ by my side, I can become a source to the knowledge of healing. That is, in understanding my own pain, and constantly working through it, I am, and can be, a “wounded healer” that offers service to others through my character – through my innate disposition (Neuwen, 2014, pp. 68, 92, & 93).
An illustration of this can be seen in the essential nature of a safe space in coming to identity and in offering service to others. Clarity, choice, and the movement toward freedom can come only when a space of openness, observation, and objectivity, comes alongside trust, validity, and truth (Neuwen, 2014, pp. 95 & 97; Siegel, 2010, pp. 99 & 264). This is only possible in presence – the space in the here and now that offers no judgment, no constrictions to the past or the future, and that which brings humility, and thus the ability to truly pay attention to myself and others. This space, possible in solitude and relationship, allows for focus, perspective, and resourcefulness (Siegel, 2010, p. 3; Neuwon, 2014, p. 95).
Furthermore, it is this safe space that allows the self and the other to see the reality of an individualistic world that only binds us when we choose not to presently see the malevolence (Neuwon, 1997, p. 130), and to come to a place where imagination and connection to worlds above and beyond our own are honoured. The space where “sweeping images” based in the “figurative language” of biblical truth and intuition serves us when “rational analysis never can” (Hein & Kilby, 1998, pp. 10-12).
Personally, this space looks like the practice of mindful presence. Although creating a coherent narrative and forgiveness requires a level of cognitive intellectualisation, there comes a point where the need to grasp at that that is unable to be objectified left me asking more questions than it answered (Hein & Kilby, 1998, p. x). To reiterate: reality is larger than rationality. As such I required a practice that allowed me to come to the Cross, even if just momentarily, in a completely relaxed and open state where my spirit, and its intuitive knowledge, could shut down that which is explicitly embedded in my mind, and become attentive to the implicit side of my being (Hein & Kilby, 1998, p. 4); to tap into the Holy Spirit and to come to a place of peaceful knowing of the self that defines innate disposition.
Such a powerful practice allows me to experience first hand what it means to bring my pain to the Cross: to sit in mindful presence, as I may look to sit with another as the “wounded healer” (Nouwen, 2014, pp. 85-104), and to allow a place for confession, sacrifice, repentance, forgiveness, atonement, acceptance, deliverance, healing, and protection from my deep wounds (Thompson & Thompson, 2000, p. 143). In the same way to humbly seek attention towards my own feelings, and the feelings of others, in order for kindness and compassion to wash over me giving me a renewed sense of perspective (Alexander, 2009, p. 35). This in turn gives me overt knowledge of that which is implicit in order to be mature in the purpose of emotions, to know myself and others more deeply – for example “what is mine and not mine” (Alexander, 2009, p. 35), to understand self and other behaviours more compassionately, and thus to respond in a more adaptive, integrated manner, ensuing “new ways of being” (Siegel, 2010, p. 185).
Moreover, in my own journey, with mindful presence I have been able to come to a place where my behaviours become less irrational and impulsive, where fear does not dictate interpersonal relationships, and where I have found solace in the knowledge of my innate disposition. In a tangible way I now possess the ability to remove distorted perception, harsh absolutes (Alexander, 2009, p. 42), black and white thinking, and to mindfully be aware of incoming sensory streams that have the potential to trigger adverse emotional response that leaves me in chaos and rigidity (Siegel, 2010, p. 105). This further provides the space for me to fathom and to become accountable in my innate disposition (Thompson & Thompson, 2007, p. 35): knowing boundaries from defenses in order to stand up or stand down consciously (Alexander, 2009, pp. 166-169), to challenge others from a place of protected vulnerability, to let go of judgment and predefined implicit behaviour, and to be in intentional interpersonal relationship that reciprocally encourages and supports. Finally, in mindful presence, because I have “bound my own wounds one at a time” (Nouwen, 2014, p. 86) I can move towards humble identity in the image of God that allows me, ultimately, to offer this experiential and intuitive knowledge to others as a wounded healer.
While my journey at times feels never ending, it paradoxically feels like I became in touch, and started living in alignment with my innate disposition over night. In understanding my past in truth, creating coherent narrative, and coming to identity I have become a new being. I have found myself and my place at home, and as such, through boundaries, have been able to let go of interpersonal relationships that negatively impacted me, and create new interpersonal experiences and relationships that support me. Furthermore, I have truly come to fathom that what happened to me, and in what happens to me, are the trials and temptations designed for the perseverance required for deep connection with an innate disposition formed in faith (James 1:2-5, NIV; Romans 5:3-5, NIV). I am no longer all alone and waiting. I am no longer lost. I now know, and comprehend, and can continually integrate my narrative with my inner subjective life allowing me the freedom to feel fulfilled in God’s intended purpose.
References
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