by Jo Cox-Darling.
Our bodies matter. Our embodiedness and our woundedness. Where we carry our wounds in our bodies. How we display our scars, or not. And what this says about our humanity.
“If I showed you my scars, would that make me more human to you? If I paraded my degrees, would that make me more valuable to you? (…) Does my body need a name for you to include it, learn from it, love it?” (Amy Kenny)[1]
In this post-covid world, we’ve become more aware of the impact of communal trauma on the body, and the on-going health implication of high cortisol hormones on the main organ systems. The Vagus nerve connects the base of the brain to the base of the spine, controls our body’s response to situations and releases adrenalin, cortisol, and dopamine into our system. It controls how we feel and, because it runs away from the brain rather than to it, it can determine what we do before we have time to think about why we are doing it.
The Vagus nerve regulates our heart-rate, skin and muscle sensations, respiratory rate, blood pressure and mood. When it over-reacts to stimuli, or encounters a traumatic incident – not least a global pandemic – it can go a bit wrong and lead to symptoms such as abdominal pain, dizziness, loss of appetite, chronic mood issues and sleep and breathing difficulties.
Psychologist Bessel Van Der Kolk is an expert in the science and psychology of the Vagus nerve, recognising that when people are in a traumatised state their body gets ‘stuck’ and they become incapable of giving or receiving love. They become tetchy – displaying abusive patterns of behaviour – relationships get strained and everything just feels more difficult.
Such patterns of behaviour are prevalent within our church culture, as well as within our social systems. Van der Kolk says:
‘I wish I could separate trauma from politics, but as long as we continue to live in denial, and treat only trauma while ignoring its origins, we are bound to fail. In today’s world, your postcode, even more than your genetic code determines whether you will lead a safe and healthy life. (…) Poverty, unemployment, inferior schools, social isolation, substandard housing are all breeding grounds for trauma. Trauma breeds further trauma. Hurt people hurt people.’ [2]
Despite being a breeding ground for triggers and traumas, the church is also one place where there is an opportunity to explore the spiritual and psychological practices which enable healing and wholehearted living. Practicing mindfulness, meditation or yoga can help to keep our Vagus nerve healthy by calming our nervous system. Singing may also stimulate the Vagus nerve as vibrations stimulate the parts of the in the back of the throat. Creativity and things that need the connection of body and brain – especially when our hands need to be connected to the outcome – forces the brain to make new synapse connections.
Breathe. Pray. Stretch. Sing. Learn. Laugh. These are all deeply embedded in spiritual formation and practice, as well as having parallels in Brene Brown’s work on courageous community. The things that we need to get back on track are the things of rest and creativity. If hurt people hurt people, healed people can help people.
Questions for reflection:
- What does it look like for us to thrive – individually, as a society, and as a congregation?
- Where does our healing start from?
- What can you add into your routine that helps heal your parasympathetic nervous system?
This year’s SPECTRUM Conference, Wounded Wisdom was held at Highgate House in May and was attended by around 25 people. The subtitle was Discovering Healing and Hope – Words and Wisdom for these days, and the content addressed how our minds and bodies try to cope with the sense of woundedness and vulnerability which are a familiar result of wrestling with all that the news and daily life throw at us. The speakers were Jo Cox-Darling and Brian Draper, who also prepared papers for the Spectrum annual study guide, which we also share through on Theology Everywhere. This is part two of a series of six articles. Also see The art of vulnerability.
[1] Amy Kenny, My Body Is Not a Prayer Request: Disability Justice in the Church
[2] Bessel Van Der Kolk, The body keeps the score p348
Theology Everywhere 
Being there for people struggling is sometimes tiring but it also is fulfilling and can help deflect us from worrying overmuch about our own, often trivial by comparison, concerns.
LikeLiked by 1 person