It’s a warmer than usual autumn day, and the 100-foot tree in my backyard is being taken down. This gorgeous tree that stands as a pillar of strength has housed owls who have delivered warnings and shed a nuisance of pine needles (much to the chagrin of my neighbors), is now a safety concern. At the sound of the chainsaw, the fall of the lush branches, I am struck with grief. My throat constricts, my shoulders tense, my chest is heavy.
And there it is, I think, the invitation.
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Through my own life experiences, and over the course of a long career in healthcare, I have come to see pain and discomfort as couriers. They offer us invitations to heal, to create, and to discover our most authentic expression of self. So often these invitations beckon, as they did for me on that day, through bodily sensations. Our attunement to such sensations allows for a richer and more embodied healing journey, and is foundational to True Life Center’s model of care. I am grateful to work with a team of practitioners who similarly view physical and emotional symptoms as entry points to explore the root etiology of presenting conditions.
For me, and I’m sure for so many of you, the root of my grief tells the story of transgenerational trauma. I come from a familial line of survivors. We’ve survived abject poverty and hunger, racism, alcoholism, sexism, severe and chronic mental illness, and countless tragedies. Presently, multiple members of my family are experiencing health crises; some close to the end of life, and others with upcoming surgical procedures that prompt both hope and concern. It was this, and so much more, that my body was holding as I witnessed the felled tree.
And just as the roots of that tree remain tangled under feet of dirt in my backyard, so too does my family’s legacy of pain and survival remain deep within me. It is because of these roots, because of the healing invitations from them that spring eternal, that I founded True Life Center and developed Neurobiological Integration. It is my life’s work that more people get to experience the beauty that can come from having the courage to answer the invitation to heal.
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As the workers clean up the last of the branches and foliage from the yard, I instinctively place my hand on my heart, holding it steadily in acknowledgement of what it’s telling me.
Message received, body. Thank you.
Later that day I continue to answer the invitation through mindful practices that include movement, meditation, creative expression and connection.
In conversation with a friend and colleague, I am reminded that in Chinese Medicine, autumn itself offers all of us an invitation. Autumn is a time of letting go of that which no longer serves us, to create space for future blooms. As leaves fall to the ground, they carry with them seeds from the previous season that germinate through the dormant stillness of winter, and rise in the spring with a new vision and vigor for life and abundance.
This makes me ponder the cycles of seasons of each familial generation. In each season of nature and of life, we are invited to grow and evolve. Often this invitation comes in the form of an emotional challenge. It can be a traumatic experience or a sequence of many. Instead of conceptualizing these traumatic experiences as damaging; I believe grief, trauma and illness are invitations to heal ourselves on a much deeper level. Accepting the invitation means we — as individuals and as families — not only lessen the burden for the next generation, but also evolve the family system and eventually, the culture, community and larger societal systems.
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As I gaze out my kitchen window, I see the tree stump, and sense both the heaviness and the joy. There’s loss and hope; there’s the cycle of life teaching me about birth and death: and there’s the tree, the symbol of one’s True Life, not gained by denying the pain, but by engaging in a process of healing that is transformative and sustainable.
I’m grateful for the shorter days, the autumn leaves, and the reminder to let go of that which does not serve. I continue to accept the invitation, season after season.
