Trauma work is grief work. I had a lovely, unexpected 24hrs with my daughter last week. She was in town briefly for work and the stars aligned so I could spend that time with her chatting, cooking and watching TV. We watched Love on the Spectrum (how gorgeous) and the new Bridget
My humanity pulls me toward grief, I am heartbroken at the suffering I see and am forcing myself to witness. I tend to my own trauma stewardship so I can enlarge my capacity to feel it and bear it with the global community.
An image took my breath away last week. It was of a baby doll in a manger made of rubble. Broken chunks of cement and rocks, debris and wood surrounded by figurines. It was the nativity scene of a Church in the West Bank city of Bethlehem. The place where
I recently wrote a paper on grief and loss and, as happens when we buy a red car, we see red cars everywhere.