Everywhere I look, I see trauma. Not merely in the obvious ways that it is acted out on the world stage, but in the more subtle ways that it accumulates within each of us. Walt Whitman was right. We do contain multitudes. And that includes the mountain of accumulated trauma that we inherited from those who came before, made even larger by the difficult experiences we’ve had in this lifetime. Nobody is exempt. Even those who claim to have had a perfect childhood—and perhaps to some extent they did—have been impacted by the traumatized collective zeitgeist, and the interpersonal limitations that it forged. It’s all there, permeating our relational ethos and infiltrating our consciousness, holding us back from experiencing reality with the kind of deep presence that is our birthright.
This is not a criticism. For centuries, it has been utterly necessary to look away from the truth of our trauma. It really has. In a survivalist world, it has been all we can do to get through in one piece. In order to manage the challenges of the day, we have often had no other choice but to repress a whole host of memories and feelings. Every culture and family had their own way of doing this. Some by shaming (and punishing) those who acknowledge the truth and share their feelings. Others by modeling a way of being that is emotionally avoidant and bereft of feeling. Many others—and this was certainly true in my family—by repeatedly spewing repressive cliches that are designed to dissociate you from your suffering i.e. “Big boys don’t cry.” “Keep your chin up!” “Just let it go.” “Don’t look back…” “Act like a lady.” “Suffering builds character.” “Life goes on.” “Suck it up.” “Be tough.” etc. With our chins way up in the sky, it was often difficult to find our truest path and purpose, and to notice that we were living emotionally armored, flatlined lives. It was also near impossible to realize that the repressed material hadn’t actually gone anywhere. It was stockpiled in our bodies, manifest as terror, tension, and all manner of mental and physical illness. It was there, but we seldom noticed it.
And, as many of us are now realizing, our unresolved trauma was also manifest relationally. Most obviously, in the form of unfulfilling attachment styles, rigid or non-existent boundaries, and a whole host of psychological issues and patterns that make it difficult to trust humanity. And just as significantly, the unresolved grief and anger congealed into weapons used against others, often acted out in the form of contempt, neglect and abuse, domination and submission. There are certainly many people who seek prominence in their field because they have a calling to serve humanity, but there are also many who are seeking power over—unknowingly motivated to action by their unhealed trauma. Without realizing it, their ruthless disregard for others, their obsession with accumulation, their desperate need for attention, and their rage against the earth, are all too often rooted in that which hasn’t been healed. Many want power to feel safe, or to feel loved, or to lodge them so firmly in a distracted way of being that they never have to open the pandora’s box of suffering that lives within them. Of course, they never really escape it—their actions not only perpetuate the trauma cycle, they expand it. Once a singular mountain of unresolved trauma, now an entire mountain range.
We are a species always at war. And—one way or the other—those wars are usually ignited by the accumulation of past trauma. Whether it shows up as ambition for more land, the delusion of one’s superiority, the fear of the other, or religious zealotry, there is often old pain at its heart. And that pain shows up as something predatory because our experience of victimhood—the painful after-effects of personal and ancestral predation—are still reverberating inside. With no opportunity to unpack it and heal, the buried material congeals into a walking time bomb, often channeling itself towards innocents. Through accumulated eyes, we see the other as a threat, and we act out accordingly. Until we find a way to decumulate our mountains of unresolved trauma, war will continue to plague the human landscape. And the world of divine possibility that we seek will remain little more than an improbable flight of fancy.
I learned this within my own warring aspect. Those times when I felt most aggressive, determined to dominate, and certain of my superiority were usually rooted in my own emotional repression. When I did the work to unpack and release some of what I was holding, those tendencies faded away and I felt more able to meet humanity on equal footing. I may well have had a basis for some of my negative views of them, but my more open state of being preferred coherence to conflict. Because I could feel more of my heart, I could feel more of theirs. And the last thing I wanted to do was harm them. In the same way as trauma accumulation had perpetuated itself (trauma begets trauma…), trauma decumulation had perpetuated itself. With less pain blocking my lens, I could see my way through to a heartfelt way of relating with my fellow humans.
Decumulation
People often write me and ask how they can help to change the world. There are so many wonderful things they can do: clarifying their sacred purpose, various forms of activism, heart-centered outreach etc. Yet the best answer I have is to prioritize the diminishment of the mountain of unresolved material that we carry. Decumulation is the answer. There is so very much to be said for setting time aside to get caught up with ourselves and to work through whatever is lying in wait within us until we feel unencumbered. Until we feel a freshness of appreciation. There is nothing on the ‘to-do’ list of greater significance. Moving it through, moving it along, moving it on out…
That’s not to say that we can rid ourselves of all our traumatic memories and imprints, but we can strive to make sense of them, to put them into context, to express that which couldn’t be expressed, to release that which hasn’t been liberated, to understand—with respect to our ancestral trauma—its sociological roots and the ways that it has influenced our lives. We can become significantly more conscious of the ways that our emotional holdings obstruct us, and we can chisel away at the mountain of trauma until there is more space inside to magnetize and nurture a gratifying life. We can.
The consequences of doing this work are profound. Not only with respect to our inner lives, but with respect to the ways that we show up in and for the world. When we turn our attention to the trauma we hold, we naturally become more attuned to the trauma that everyone holds. We become more sensitive to it, and we become more determined to support their healing process, too. As many decumulators are now finding out, we often find our own callings, gifts, and offerings right in the heart of our healing journey. With less accumulated trauma, we can see our path more clearly, and the work that we have done on ourselves often transforms into our sacred purpose. And, as noted earlier, we become more inclined to treat the earth and its inhabitants with the same kind of care that we are channeling toward ourselves.
Yet, decumulation is easier said than done. Those of us who wish to decumulate our traumatic holdings are often up against it. We live in an overwhelmed and distracted world, one where power-brokers and their related systems benefit from our repressive malaise. If we become too empowered and alight, they lose their market share. So they work hard to ensure that we are too anxious, overwhelmed, and distracted to focus on a healing process. And for those of us with space to accommodate one, we often come up against an unhealthy self-concept that was forged in the fires of personal and collective shame. This is quite significant, given that it often takes a certain amount of self-regard before we can believe ourselves worthy of healing. We often have to make a leap of faith, imagining ourselves self-loving before we do the work that confirms it.
These obstructions permeate the spiritual world as well. Both the dissociated teachings of patriarchal spirituality and the New Age movement (something I have often referred to as the ‘New Cage Movement’, because of its psychologically imprisoning nature), have had the effect of perpetuating the mountain of trauma that we hold. They have done this in a myriad of ways, not the least of which is a persistent tendency to deny the veracity of our feelings, selfhood, and personal stories. Given that these teachings have taken root in mainstream culture, their influence on our thinking cannot be underestimated. Not only do they confuse seekers, they trick them into believing that they have awakened when all they have done is bypassed their pain. Its one thing to look at reality through a more expansive lens—this can be especially helpful when we are too burdened to open the pain box—but its quite another to float so far away from the healing path that we grow the mountain larger. And, larger still.
Those of you who have followed my work know that I have devoted years to studying the New Age movement in particular. I have written about and deconstructed a broad array of New Age cliches, including “Everything happens for a reason,” “No judgment,” “What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,” “Just ask the universe for what you want and you’ll get it,” etc. Just when I thought there weren’t any more to critically review, another appeared. In recent weeks, a number of people have expressed the following to me: “What you think of me is none of my business.” I looked closer at the saying, and it appears to have entered public awareness as a supportive aphorism for those engaged in 12-step programs. I looked closer still, and it then became a common New Age meme that is often used as a shield against personal accountability. I then wrote this post in response:
‘What you think of me is none of my business!!” Really? Always? I get that this can be a useful assertion when we are not remotely responsible for how someone perceives us. It can be particularly helpful, when we are being shamed or judged by people who are fully projecting their stuff onto us. In those situations, it really is NONE of our business how they see us. Yet there are also situations when this new age meme is classic spiritual bypassing, enabling us in our refusal to be accountable for our actions. For example, you abuse or neglect someone you are in relationship with, and they have negative feelings about you and your actions. Or you act rudely or disrespectfully towards strangers, and leave them with a bad taste in their mouth. In those cases, what they think of you IS your business, if you have the courage to own the connection between your actions and their feelings. We are relational beings, after all. So, lets bring this meme back into balance. Sometimes what people think of you is truly none of your business. And sometimes it is entirely your business. The business of human relationships demands that we take a closer look.”
I am including this here because I believe that this cliché clearly reveals what we are up against when we seek to decumulate trauma. In those situations where one’s feelings of victimization are entirely rightful, it completely closes the door on the relational healing that can be beneficial to the decumulation process. And it surely perpetuates the trauma cycle itself—both for the person who has been directly traumatized, and even for the aggressor. Because what is often forgotten is that the traumatizer also carries trauma, not merely from their own experiences with being victimized, but also from the ways in which they may have traumatized others. In other words, the moment this cliché is uttered where accountability is appropriate, everyone’s mountain grows bigger. When we turn our attention to a personal decumulation process, it is helpful if it includes the unpacking of the detrimental impact of New Age languaging on those mountains within us. Trauma grows them, but so do words that deny our suffering.
Having set the stage, let me now turn my attention to actual tools, techniques, and recommendations that can support your brave efforts to decumulate.