HEALING THE PAIN OF TRAUMA: LESSONS FROM THE JUNGLES OF SOUTH AFRICA
Many of you ask me how I have the energy to participate in so many training events. To be honest, I find that many of them, especially those on how to heal pain and trauma, are energizing for me vs. depleting (the travel, however, is another story!).
How can working with pain and trauma be energizing? It's a very good question, and one I ask myself regularly. My recent experiences in South Africa and Zurich, Switzerland serve as partial answers. In both places, I did intensive work with individuals struggling with longstanding effects of various types of traumatic experiences, ranging from accidents, injuries, surgeries, very early medical procedures, and birth trauma to ongoing sexual, emotional, or physical abuse. I also served as a consultant for many other types of trauma.
In every case, without exception, what stood out for me was the evidence of resiliency we were able to find, which had sustained each individual through sometimes terrible ordeals and which provided the foundation for additional new healing.
Being on safari for several days in South Africa provided wonderful real-life illustrations of resiliency at work alongside the trauma dynamics of fight, flight, freeze. Those who attended my workshops during the last month, as well as many clients on my return, have been listening to"tales of the jungle" that can help us understand the interactions of trauma and pain.
One of the major dynamics we witnessed during safari is the shift from the freeze response to the flight response and how this contributes to survival and resilience. Although we saw many examples of these phenomena regularly as our safari jeep edged off trail to follow animal movements, I was most impressed by watchingthe impala, an antelope like creature who instantly shifts into the "arrest" response -- the universal pause that signals new approaching stimuli, in this case, the sound of our jeep motor. Visually, this looked something like a reddish brown and white ripple of immobility followed by the high speed leaping flight of fleet footed animals.
Their rapid flight responses consistently took the form of what looked like a disorganized explosion. Our ranger, Freedom, described them as "skittish" and "shy," and what I've read since my return suggests that their "explosive flight" movements actually have a positive function, helping to keep the herd together, eventually establishing a general flight path.
Initially, an individual impala leaps up (this movement is hard to see because they are so rarely alone or separate from their herd), and casts about from side to side, which tends to bring individual impala into faster contact with each other. High jumps into the air also allow impalas to release signals from the fetlock scent gland in mid-air. This scent is easier for a rapidly running impala to pick up than one left on the ground. So the individual flight response actually leads, as it's designed to, to greater survival.
Another example of this essential shift from freeze to flight can be found in the behavior of the singularly unattractive warthog. Although we witnessed hundreds of them during our adventure, and they appeared unremarkable except for the fact that they kneel down on their front legs in order to feed, one morning warthogs taught us a valuable lesson about jungle survival.
Instruction began as our jeep once again moved off road, this time to follow two lionesses on hunt. For quite awhile we could not tell what the lions were tracking. We were only aware of their attempts at locating their prey, which included the primary strategy of climbing. One lion climbed a large hill not more than 10 yards away from the right side of our jeep, and the other climbed a tall tree on our left! Our guide explained that these tactics were necessary because of the taller bush that existed at the end of a rainy season and served as a barrier to easy identification of their prey.
For a long period of time, we sat quietly and waited, which pretty much describes what the lions and their unknown prey were doing. There were no sounds. Suddenly, without an instant of warning, we heard extremely rapid movement through the brush and spied the blurred image of a warthog scampering easily past the two lionsout of their range. We were amazed that this little creature could so easily outrun the "queens of the jungle."
These vignettes indicate two variations of planned escape vs. disorganized flight reactions. In the case of the warthog, lone survival depended on flight that was strategic, happening at the moment where both the threatening lions (as well as we sleepy adventurers) appeared to be lulled into some type of altered state related to the orienting response. The lions appeared to be as startled as we were by the burst of warthog energy and made only halfhearted attempts to follow.
In the case of the impala, on the other hand, the strategic planned flight pattern was only determined by additional research combined with onsite explorations. It turns out that this apparently disorganized flight was more focused on survival of the entire herd, so that the actions of even one animal can save many with great economy of energy.
I have explored the essence of these lessons with my pain patients in terms of their flight responses to avoid the recurrence of pain, or to escape flare-ups that suddenly occur without warning. What we find when we review their experiences is that, all too often, their primitive instincts lead them into chaos (disregulated flight response) or into significant constriction and collapse (freeze).
A recent example is the case of William who has struggled with lumbar disc pain for many years, both prior to and following a surgery to replace two of his failing discs. During our second meeting, we discovered that William arranged most of his daily routines to avoid pain, for example, not engaging in social situations because they tended to be overstimulating or required too much "standing around." He felt generally afraid to make a move in his personal life because new developments in his condition upset his wife, triggering several stress-induced heart attacks for her, which overwhelmed and panicked him even more.
William perceives his daily life as dull and boring because all he can handle is a little shopping and paying the bills; at the beginning of our work together, he could identify few sources of reliable pleasure and comfort. William has now been out of work on disability for several years and views himself as a victim of a plunging job market; feeling depressed and discouraged, he now avods looking for work that could be pleasing and satisfying, sure that such possibilities no longer exist.
A discussion of his situation prompted me to describe William as being confined in a trauma-induced "straitjacket," an image that he readily accepted. From this perspective, we could see that there have been few ways for him to truly escape disappointments and despair, and when he attempts to find more freedom, he becomes frustrated and tends to circle around any new challenge in chaotic, downward spirals, although in the moment his choices appear sensible and cautious to him. Basically, William has closed the door on novelty as being too threatening and lives in a world of constriction, freeze, and collapse.
We discussed his avoidance pattern as being similar to the impala that tends to panic at each new sound and scent. In the animal world, this mechanism serves an important purpose of warning other members of the herd of impending danger so that a successful collective escape can be mounted. But in William's world, such panic/startle responses have been ungrounded in their sense of purpose and merely further restrict his opportunities for a good life.
Instead, William is exploring how he can become more like the warthog in staying aware of all possible options and being more fully present so that when the time is right, he can plan and execute successful exit from any untenable situation that has the actual effect of worsening his pain condition. Recently, he has used this strategy to plan departures from discussions with his wife about his pain condition that become dominated by her anxiety, learning to execute his exits so that neither of them feel distressed. These planned escapes are then followed by his planned reentry into their relational experience to create what we are calling "islands of comfort." Here, the focus is on the approach toward pleasure, creating experiences that are mutually rewarding for them as a couple.
Both strategies are very important for human animals that are trapped by pain. First, we must learn how to execute planned escapes that are truly successful so that we easily and successfully "outmaneuver" real threats that pain can present. Secondly, we must also learn the wisdom of what we want to approach with full presence that can bring us secure experiences of pleasure and comfort so that our moments of freedom expand into a life that becomes more and more pain free.
You will soon have two opportunities to explore further some of the ideas in this article. First, our July 13 teleseminar with Bill O'Hanlon will explore strategic approaches to the resolution of trauma (go here now to register at www.maggiephillipsphd.com/courses_teleseminars_bo.html).
Secondly, I want to credit Peter Levine, creator of Somatic Experiencing®, an innovative approach to the healing of trauma, with the "straitjacket" image used above as well as for his pioneering studies of the links between animal behavior and human responses to threat. Peter and I are completing a new book/CD program called Freedom from Pain, which will be published in early 2012 by Sounds True. Stay tuned to this newsletter for updates and go to www.traumahealing.com for more information on SE training and research.
In the meantime, please consider purchasing access to the recordings of our 3-teleseminar series on Peter's newest solo book, In An Unspoken Voice at
www.maggiephillipsphd.com/courses_teleseminars_pl2.html
Thanks so much for taking time to read this newsletter.
Maggie
