Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Compassion Fatigue and Chronic Sorrow as Soul Injuries

All it takes is a beautiful fake smile 
to hide an injured soul;
they will never notice
how broken you really are.

Robin Williams

Hello, Everyone,

Lately, I've been noticing that some of the people in the CF and CS workshops nod in immediate recognition when I describe full-blown compassion fatigue and chronic sorrow as soul injuries. They know, intuitively, that the suffering they experience is deeper and more pervasive than the emotional pain described and addressed in some self-care workshops. It is a relief for these folks to have someone acknowledge the severity of their pain. This acknowledgement is often a first step toward releasing shame and opening the pathway to healing.

Soul injuries are wounds of our souls or essence, the loss of our sense of inner goodness, beauty and vitality stemming from trauma, unattended loss, burnout and the guilt and shame of our own actions or omissions.

Soul injury symptoms are described by Opus Peace as the familiar signs of postraumatic stress plus a defense-penetrating breach in the integrity our deepest selves. They often include:
1.  A haunting sense of being defective or tainted,
2.  A sense of betrayal by one's self, others, an organization, religion or God/Higher Power, and/or
3.  A sense of emptiness arising from disconnection from the part of ourselves carrying the pain.
Some of us have carried these injuries from childhood and others have experienced them through longterm exposure to the trauma and suffering of those we serve.

While our souls or essence will never be killed by our work, we can become separated from our original strength, truth, wisdom and compassion. We separate ourselves from our souls each time we cover up, numb out or run away from our truth and that separation eventually generates it's own symptoms. On the other hand, when we own our truth (including its pain) in gentle respectful ways, our souls can expand to hold and heal our wounds.

The healing of a soul injury entails addressing soul issues. Not only must we grieve unattended losses and re-regulate traumatized nervous systems, we must also forgive and make a home for the parts of ourselves we have denied and split off due to guilt and shame.  Then, we need to develop and nurture a life of the spirit - deeply personal and meaningful beliefs, teachings, ceremonies and rituals that will provide a strong foundation for building resilience.

As Opus Peace says, we all need a class on: to open our hearts to our losing and failing, paradoxically becoming whole in the process. Re-owning and then re-homing pieces of self (often hidden behind facades or exiled into unconsciousness)  can precipitate healing. Telling stories of our lostness (without the distorting illusion of how we wish our lives to be) is the first step toward freedom. Hearing other peoples stories en-courages us to liberate our own.

So as we become deeply honest with ourselves, at least one other person and Whom or Whatever Benevolence we believe in, trauma can be healed, losses grieved, guilt atoned, forgiveness accepted, shame dispelled and a future, strengthened and brightened by hope and small "s" spirituality, explored.

Once I have moved into my new home at the end of the month, I hope to begin designing a second tier compassion fatigue/chronic sorrow workshop tentatively called, Compassion Fatigue/Chronic Sorrow: Going Deeper, which will address Compassion Fatigue and Chronic Sorrow as soul injuries. You will be the first to know when it's ready!

In the meantime, the next Caring On Empty Workshop for Helping Professionals will be held at The Granville Island Hotel on Monday May 7th from 9-4.  Brochures with registration forms are available at   Please tell your friends and colleagues!

Photo from the Opus Peace website.

Monday, January 1, 2018

Hope for 2018 ...

Hope is the belief that tomorrow
could be better.


Happy New Year, Everyone!

Here we stand on the threshold of a new year, in the in-between space of expectation and possibility between old and new.

My focus today (and perhaps my new word for 2018) is hope. Thoughts about hope have arisen organically through the rhythms of life over the holidays. I am taking Jan Richardson's free online retreat for Women's Christmas 2017 - Walking the Way of Hope, I'm reading a Christmas gift book about hope and, in a very real way, I'm actively practicing hope each day as I look for a new place to live. The notion of hope is all around me.

For me, hope is not a Pollyanna-ish, frothy, pie-in-the-sky type of experience but a rooted, ever-available, undergirding strength that promises that even in painful times, even when hope itself flickers, there are unexpected gifts, new directions and fresh possibilities in each moment, if we have the eyes to see them.

There are those who decry hope as being future vs present-oriented and, therefore, not a useful concept. To these people I can only say that there have been times in my life when focusing continually in the present would have been overwhelming and traumatizing and, without the forward pull of hope, I might not have survived let alone thrived.

Jan Richardson, whose blessings I use so often in my workshops, calls us to hope in this way:

Rough Translations

Hope nonetheless.
Hope despite.
Hope regardless.
Hope still.

Hope where we had ceased to hope.
Hope amid what threatens hope.
Hope with those who feed our hope.
Hope beyond what we had hoped.

Hope that draws us past our limits.
Hope that defies expectations.
Hope that questions what we have known.
Hope that makes a way where there is none.

Hope that takes us past our fear.
Hope that calls us into life.
Hope that holds us beyond death.
Hope that blesses those to come.

Whatever your circumstances this New Year, may hope accompany, enfold and strengthen you and may you look ahead with eyes primed to find the best this year has to offer.