The Zen of Trauma

around us. There is beauty everywhere.
 
      I had a Navajo client once in Gallup, New Mexico who did not see beauty. For the Navajo, this is a tremendously serious problem. Many Navajo prayers chant references to "Walking in Beauty" (which would be difficult if one were blind to it) and his inability to see (feel) beauty isolated him from his people. Yet, as I said, there is beauty everywhere. I invited him out of the office. I asked him to look at the ground beneath his feet. There, between his boots grew a tiny purple flower. There it is. Beauty.

   One of the things I have said in my seminars is that traumatic experience opens us to the aesthetic values of life. As a Vietnam veteran, I used to see a crowd of dead “Gooks , ” I now see a field of dead human beings. Seeing the ugliness of our behavior opens our hearts to our morality. Now we can be fully aware that we are killing human beings, not “ gooks, ” and say "no" to it more easily, and frankly, with more power. Where once we thought there was justice and fairness, we see hatred and inequity. Now, with our Zazen practice with trauma,  we are free to challenge it.

   Trauma frees us because we have come to the edge and returned. We no longer need to be fearful. We have "been there and done that." All that remains is for us to be silent long enough, still long enough, and the vast cycle of life becomes evident. Therefo re, the aim, if there is an aim to Zazen , is to allow balance to happen. When we allow ourselves to simply exist, we tend to settle ourselves. As a horse "collects" himself when a rider relaxes deeply into the saddle, so Zazen collects us as we practice being deeply present on our seat.
     

    The Role of Balance. We cannot force balance to become a part of our lives. We create the opportunity for it to be there, but it is only an opportunity. We must be willing to let things come and go, not engage with them, in order for serenity to blossom.

   Many helping professionals and their theories, suggest balance is important. It comes to us under different labels, "homeostasis," "equilibration," "serenity," but often the theory is reductionist ic and supposes that since we can see a person's lack of balance, we need only to then prescribe balance. As if to say we can just bring it about. The client believes (supported by the helper) that what they must do is somehow quantify aspects of their lives, see where one aspect has too much emphasis, and another too little, then go about adding and subtracting. Quite utilitarian and quite improbable that balance will result.

   Balance is not an even distribution of aspects of self, but rather, it is the integration of those aspects that make life whole and vital. Without the ability to integrate , and maintain the discipline to become still and open to the universe, b oth within and without, a person will not feel th at connection to the whole, which makes belongingness possible. When we are mindful, we feel the connection we have to the floor beneath the desert cactus, th e cat, the kitchen sink, and us --- all of which contain the universe within them.

   As sub-atomic structures, if we get small enough, we realize that we are no different from the sand, the air, the water, or the life of the rain forest. None is more than the other, none more special, or none less special. All contain the same elements and all are part of the vastness of the universe. Thinking like this allows us to let go of our egocentricism and open ourselves to a qualitatively different experience of the life we live. Our problems become less significant and certainly less problematic as the wonder that surround us is invited in.
     
    Ritual: repeated meaningful acts.
    One of my favorite authors, Robert Fulghum, wrote a book about rituals. In it he relates wonderful examples of how people take ordinary events, repeated during a lifetime, and turn them, quite unconsciously, into sacred events wherein "the Simple becomes Sacred." The beautiful part is that these events can be almost anything. The idea here is that repetition of activities, done with a certain amount of mindfulness, can become a catalytic process that opens us to both groundedness and connection. These are meaning constructing activities.

   What is it about repetition that serves the sacredness of life? One thing is that to repeat something often and in the same way requires discipline. It requires a willingness to do it no matter