Smuggling Grace

Perhaps today is a good day to notice the small things. 🙂

Last night, I happened upon a rehearsal of people singing madrigals. When they noticed my enjoyment, they invited me to rehearse with them. For an hour, I had delight in this. The sight singing was delicious with Renaissance revelry.

I love surprises. I love spontaneity.

–Renee Roederer

This morning, I’d like to share these slides from Mamamanon. If we experience these trauma responses inside ourselves or recognize them in others, it is good to bring them to awareness. They deserve compassion.

In times of high stress and collective trauma (oh, you know, what we’ve been living for at least 7 years straight… compassion for us) sometimes older narratives of stress and trauma get pulled to the surface too. We might be aware that these are getting triggered. Or we might be less aware.

It’s helpful to bring these to awareness. As therapist Margaret Foley says, “If we have unprocessed material deep inside, we have two choices. We talk it out, or we act it out. We reenact what we have not resolved.”

These unresolved reenactments can become large narratives in our present-moment lives, but they are out of place and out of time. Or they might weave within our present-moment situations. Have you ever felt that your reaction to a present challenge is a bit oversized and disproportionate to the moment? Older stories and older emotions might be getting triggered too.

Within all of this, sometimes we look for people — close loved ones (frequent) or people of less personal significance (less risky) to play roles in our reenactments. We cast them as characters in the drama, and they serve as placeholders to hold these stories. They become containers to store our old emotions. But this can really harm relationships too.

Common containers include:

The role of the rescuer. We cast people as characters to save us. We want to be seen in our vulnerability (valid) but become dependent upon others for our feelings of safety. We externalize that need because we struggle to feel safe internally.

The role of the villain. We cast people in the character of scapegoat, attempting to funnel our pain into them and send them off. This is really an attempt to rid ourselves of our own anger and pain.

The role of the stand-in. We cast people into the character of a significant person in our lives. We begin to engage this person with the emotions we actually have for our mother, or father, or sister, or brother, or estranged friend, or person we miss, or person who wounded us.

I speak about all of this as a care-worker. I see this happening so frequently in this era of time. This comes from a natural place of wanting to heal pain, and it makes sense for this to happen after years of collective trauma. Of course, this would unearth old narratives. I also speak about this as person who lives in this era of time, witnessing and feeling my way through all of these things too. The challenge is, people aren’t asking to find themselves in the cast list of our internal storylines — unless, they themselves, are reenacting their own traumas by stepping into these roles too (that happens also!)

We can add care to others, but we aren’t rescuers.

We can make mistakes, but we aren’t villains.

We can care about the emotions people have for significant individuals in their lives, but we can’t become the stand-ins for those particular people.

This might bring some initial relief, but it also doesn’t work. We have to actually process the unprocessed material and storylines.

That’s the harder, but more life-giving work. Sending care to all of that.

–Renee Roederer

I unlocked my front door, and immediately upon opening it, a Daddy Long Leg just walked right out the door. Have a great day, buddy!

–Renee Roederer

It is good to find things to savor.

But the truth is, we probably don’t need to find them. We likely already know the simple joys that are worthy of our attention and gratitude. We just need to be mindful of them.

Many things are worth savoring because they aren’t around consistently. One of mine — in fact, what initiated this post — is starting my morning with the windows open. I love this… It won’t be around forever. It’s cyclical.

It’s good to find things to savor.

–Renee Roederer

Yesterday afternoon, I took a ferry to Put-In-Bay, Ohio, an island in Lake Erie. It was a gorgeous day. Not pictured: I rented a golf cart and drove it around for a few hours to explore the island. This delighted me. I’m ready to do it all over again.

– Photos by Renee Roederer

During an evening walk, I found this view to be stunning at dusk. As the sun was setting, the clouds were pink. This lasted for only a few minutes. Everything was changing, and I could have missed this moment easily. I’m glad I was there to look up, and I’m grateful I snapped a photo of it.

About once a week on this blog, usually on Saturdays or Sundays, I share images and call the post, “Today in Nature.” On Facebook, however, I share such photos daily. There is so much beauty to notice daily, and when we’re transitioning from one season to another, these daily changes become even more abundant.

Last night, I was thinking about this daily practice I have, and I was remembering something wise I heard in a TedTalk, though please forgive me because I’ve forgotten who the speaker was. He was talking about nature and how to motivate people to care for the earth. We may be greatly motivated at times by the devastating and scary reports about the unfolding climate crisis — that is true. But he also said, “We will protect what we love.” So he tries to help people fall in love with nature.

I hope in a tiny way, my photos are doing that. But most of all, I want to encourage people to get outside — walking, sitting, noticing, slowing down. As we care for our mental health in these ways, we may also fall in love with what’s around us.

–Renee Roederer

Please allow me to post something very niche.

I was taking a walk, and I did a really funny double take when I saw this graffiti on the wall (first picture) and for a split second thought it was the logo for the Presbyterian Women magazine (second picture).

Can you imagine some older Presbyterian women sneaking out at night in a college town to mark territory?