Avoidance is a coping strategy I have adopted for most of my life. Putting a high value on the “just keep going” mindset was what I had been taught by my immigrant parents who survived by adopting this warrior-like value system. There was no frame of reference for stopping to process trauma in my family of origin, no matter how much of it they had been through and trust me, it was more than any family should ever have to experience in multiple lifetimes, let alone a single lifetime. In an unspoken vow to this family dynamic, I was not going to take a breath; ever.

One of my more recent big T traumas that I avoided processing was the physical, emotional and psychological pain I sustained in an automobile accident on this day 5 years ago. A young man riding a motorcycle at high speed on the highway crashed into me from the rear. He was only 24 years old. He did not walk away from the accident. As for me; neither the whiplash nor the soft tissue damage, nor the emotional jolt to my entire psychological and nervous systems kept me from ploughing forward. I was back at my desk in less than a week, as if nothing had even happened.

I think often of the young man who perished in that accident. Especially when I’m on the road in those first mild days of early spring and the sounds of motorcycles fill the air.  I still cringe and tears still fill my eyes; as my body physically reacts before I make the connection to the sound of the motorcycles. Quietly, I call the young man by name and say “rest in peace young soul.”

Fast forward to this past February 2020 when I was in yet another automobile accident. Again, a young man, and again I was hit from the rear. This time, thankfully the young man walked away. The accident was minor; with absolutely no damage to my car whatsoever. Yet my injuries, seemingly minor at the time, became major, chronic and almost crippling in the weeks that followed.

I know now that this minor accident had a major purpose. I got the uncanny feeling that the similarities of the details between these 2 accidents meant I was being offered a divinely orchestrated do-over to make different choices this time; to attend to my needs to recognize, release, and resolve the trauma agitated in this accident, and suppressed from the former one.   

Today, on the anniversary of that fatal accident five years ago, I have been contemplating the amount of courage it takes to accept and receive the “accidental wisdom” that comes from a do-over like this. For the first time since the 2015 accident, I can finally see possibilities for the release of the chronic pain and trauma stuck in my body and a stabilization of my nervous system.

This morning I said a quiet prayer for the young man from the February accident; I wished that he was well and that the insurance premium increase he worried about had been manageable for him.  Next, I lit a candle and sent a prayer of gratitude to the soul of the young man who perished on this day in 2015. 

That prayer was immediately followed by an inner voice who berated me and called me selfish, disrespectful and self-serving for even entertaining the idea of gratitude for someone who changed my life through their death. 

This is not a foreign voice to me. No, this is an inner voice who has spoken to me many times before; a voice so harsh, I’ve cowered in its wake.

But today, I responded differently to this harsh inner voice. I allowed it to speak to me; albeit I requested a kinder approach. And when it softened, I could hear the truth about this painfully repetitive and confusing experience of the gratitude in death.

I took a deep breath and the truth came.  “No”, I heard, from another part of me, “it is not wrong to thank him, it’s ok to be grateful for the good that flourished, even though it came from his death. Your gratitude comes not for his death, but for the healing that was ignited in you. His death was part of his journey and it also served your journey of unearthing the deeper buried trauma in you.”

Looking for the silver lining and seeing life through rose-colored glasses is what my friends have always loved about me.  (Fun fact about me: I own a pair of rose-colored glasses Talk about owning your superpower!). We all have unique ways of making meaning to survive the unfathomable and unimaginable.  I am particularly gifted with alchemizing trauma and bringing lifeforce to otherwise stagnant and unhealed energy. That is, once I stop avoiding the trauma.

On this day, I give myself permission to feel grateful for my healing that has arisen from this seemingly incongruous pairing of death and gratitude. I honour every person who played a part in the unfolding of my healing; especially the one who’s no longer with us, whose life path intersected with mine for a split second and made the difference of a lifetime for me. 

RIP Aaron; thank you, bless you.

Photo @JanFillem