Approaching the numbness: an illustrated journey

About a month ago, I began to draw into the feeling experience of healing - and of helping others to heal. As my drawings emerged onto the page, they spoke to me in a new language, explaining something that I'd understood in my body - but hadn't found words to express.In the first drawing, I saw the way trauma (including neglect, inconsistent mirroring and other forms of silent abuse) serve to isolate us from others and from ourselves.As if there is this spiky field of aloneness around us, a layer of protective reactivity which isolates us even more. This layer is lined with numbness, which seems to be lined with emptiness. And yet, just inside that ring of ... nothing... there is a white hot layer of pain.Over time, we develop a profound discomfort with even the kindest of gestures from others. We hide inside our isolation - it feels safer and less risky.We grow suspicious (less trusting) of others. And even when people are kind to us - we find ourselves holding back, wondering what we might have to give away. What we might lose in exchange for the ‘gift’ of this kindness. We cannot trust kindness because we annoy trust the world.Though we are all born with a natural understanding, and instinct for kindness - the flow of giving and receiving - when we've been trained to mistrust our instincts, we are always second-guessing ourselves. We fall out of step with the natural flow of social exchange, becoming ever more isolated. More alone.We become numb to connection itself and other vital human feeling experiences can be lost to us: when this happened to me, I noticed I was unable to appreciate beauty. I could see the sunset, the sparkling lake, the mountains; I could hear the symphony, perfectly played, but for some reason, it never touched me as it did other people. It couldn't touch my heart.I realized, as I drew these powerful diagrams, that I was drawing a map of my own isolation - and recovery.I saw how feeling separate, separates us from everything, including the longing, curiosity and hope that makes being a human being, alive in a world of wonders, feel good. When you're habituated to being neglected, ignored, misinterpreted and having your needs go unmet, you're habituated to expect disappointment. So you give up.When I noticed this in my clients, and in myself, my attention began feeling and sensing toward it. As I made contact, the spiky layer - reacted strongly, pushing back.  Yet I sensed, just beneath it, a kind of dull thud, as if I were rapping against the outside of a sphere filled with fluid. This made me curious. What is this? What’s on the other side? Why can’t I feel it? What’s in the way?It was as if feeling itself were inviting me to feel - and something, this ‘cuticle’ seemed to be between us.At this point, some people become fascinated by this numbness. I certainly did. I wanted to know what had caused it and whose fault it was. I joined discussion groups, went to therapy and talked with a shaman. Anything I could find to help me to feel and sense toward the… something that was calling to me from the other side. In the process, I learned and noticed many things about myself. I remembered events that probably caused or contributed to the numbness.All the while, as I returned and returned to the numb place, I felt I was being led there by a gentle but persistent guide - a part of my self that knew that the something on the other side was important.I wasn't that interested in causes. And in the work I do with clients and students, we explore the numbness (and other big feelings) as it's showing up now. We feel into what's here - without needing to understand the story that caused it. We might sit with numbness or anxiety or envy and interview it. We might draw diagrams. We don’t need to understand why these things happened. All we need is the willingness to approach the feeling with curiosity and gentleness toward the numbness and toward ourselves.Approaching these feelings is a holy act. The psyche is attempting to heal itself by returning our attention to the same place again and again.As we approach big feelings in a spirit of blessing and curiosity, we start melting all of the labels we’ve placed on them. We drop the diagnoses and self-condemning names. We treat our big feelings with compassion as they flare up, defending their boundaries.The closer we get to these big feelings, the more we feel. The numbness shows us its thorns and sharp teeth. It turns itself into a monster, a serpent, a ring of fire, defending itself with wild fury as if it were protecting something precious - something worth defending. We begin to wonder what could be that precious…We approach the numbness as we would approach a terrified animal defending her cub, or a frightened child, clinging to a toy. We are in psycho-active space here. The numbness has a will and a story of its own. It believes the precious something it protects is in danger. It guards it ferociously, fiercely.We engage the numbness bravely, but cautiously, with supreme self-care. We move at our own speed - slowing things WAY down or speeding them up.We move into contact, allowing ourselves to be penetrated by thorniness and we allow ourselves to feel as we stay conscious, noticing what's here - and what's happening. We begin to observe that behind the sharp edges, the numbness is a raw, unhealed wound: a pain so big and hot that we sealed i in protection - numbing its edges so that we would never feel that pain again. Yet approaching it now, and engaging the numbness, we sense its exhaustion, its anxious hyper vigilance is hard work, It leans into our embrace, releasing pain through every thorn.Pain runs through us like poison to a grounded drain. We are a grounded drain - and the poison, once so big and so toxic, runs through us and out of us. We may cry, we may moan, we may throw things. I did - and I still do, when these things rise.But I know now that very soon, the flow of pain will slow and recede, like waves heading back out to sea. I can breathe again - relieved, spent, emptied of the liquid fire I spent years carrying. I know now that usually, this receding wave will be followed by an incoming wave of joy - of liberated clarity, washing me with light.I know that when I let myself approach and connect with the numbness, I will find freedom. I know now  that this is what healing looks like - at least for me and the people I serve.A glorious hot mess of feeling - emerging back to life as we are made whole.