Maya, my six-year-old, has been working on a family tree the last few days. She’s been sorting through piles of photographs of people we love in a kitchen drawer, cutting out her uncles and aunts and cousins, and taping them on a giant piece of white paper. She was working on it yesterday morning when I told them that the reason they were off of “school” was because of Indigenous Peoples Day. Maya told Stella stories about the traditional skirt she made in transition kindergarten and the clip of
Wonderful, wonderful. This feels so pertinent and personally relevant...Resma's book (as well as the work of Dr Daniel Foor, Ancestral Medicine) sent me into ancestry.com, too, with thanks to all the people who've populated that, so I could just learn a few names and fill in many blanks. Suddenly, history comes alive in ways it never did in school - me wanting to read between the lines of the tree and understand the context... It makes me wonder if this great pause, this pandemic, is an invitation to step into this kind of work... like all the ancestors are holding some kind of space and urging us, come on now, step up, it's time to clear the air and replenish the soil and awaken some profound intelligence that is latent in our DNA, if we can just move and clear the great blockages of wounds that must not be spoken of... that have lodged in our bodies for generations. Thanks Courtney for your wonderful and generous explorations. I always feel enriched by you.
I had a conversation with a neighbor yesterday. He was concerned about me voting in person, thought there might be trouble with aggressive militia. I told him my grandfather joined a militia at age 12, for his own complicated reasons. Knowing my history allows me the possibility of real conversations, even with people who don't currently come within light years of my worldview. Whether you're escaping a violent alcoholic or running into the arms of an amoral enabler masquerading as president, there's trauma at work. Seeing how we share trauma and how we might metabolize it (rather than bury and multiply it) is our only path to wholeness.
Yes, to all of this- much of which has been been part of my reflections recently.
I just finished reading “It Didn’t Start With You; How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle” by Mark Wolynn. So much food for thought- and also discomfort and grief.
I’m so thankful for a sister who has explored ancestry.com with me the past few years and who now companions me as we make connections with how trauma affects us today. Listening to what is deep within, naming emotions, trusting healing comes when we respond to what is here today.
The yin yang of responsibility for the “sins of the fathers” perpetuated against others and those where we were the wounded. It’s messy.
Beautifully said. "Our way of talking about our family history without actually talking about our family history is our way of talking about American history without actually talking about American history. "
Wonderful, wonderful. This feels so pertinent and personally relevant...Resma's book (as well as the work of Dr Daniel Foor, Ancestral Medicine) sent me into ancestry.com, too, with thanks to all the people who've populated that, so I could just learn a few names and fill in many blanks. Suddenly, history comes alive in ways it never did in school - me wanting to read between the lines of the tree and understand the context... It makes me wonder if this great pause, this pandemic, is an invitation to step into this kind of work... like all the ancestors are holding some kind of space and urging us, come on now, step up, it's time to clear the air and replenish the soil and awaken some profound intelligence that is latent in our DNA, if we can just move and clear the great blockages of wounds that must not be spoken of... that have lodged in our bodies for generations. Thanks Courtney for your wonderful and generous explorations. I always feel enriched by you.
Don't forget Silence Allen or Salome Stonecipher!
I had a conversation with a neighbor yesterday. He was concerned about me voting in person, thought there might be trouble with aggressive militia. I told him my grandfather joined a militia at age 12, for his own complicated reasons. Knowing my history allows me the possibility of real conversations, even with people who don't currently come within light years of my worldview. Whether you're escaping a violent alcoholic or running into the arms of an amoral enabler masquerading as president, there's trauma at work. Seeing how we share trauma and how we might metabolize it (rather than bury and multiply it) is our only path to wholeness.
Yes, to all of this- much of which has been been part of my reflections recently.
I just finished reading “It Didn’t Start With You; How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle” by Mark Wolynn. So much food for thought- and also discomfort and grief.
I’m so thankful for a sister who has explored ancestry.com with me the past few years and who now companions me as we make connections with how trauma affects us today. Listening to what is deep within, naming emotions, trusting healing comes when we respond to what is here today.
The yin yang of responsibility for the “sins of the fathers” perpetuated against others and those where we were the wounded. It’s messy.
Blessings to you, Courtney.
Your courage takes my breath away. 💞
Beautifully said. "Our way of talking about our family history without actually talking about our family history is our way of talking about American history without actually talking about American history. "