Do You See Me? Making Sense Of The World.

Friday, 29th April

Today, I would like to share today a piece from a book I'm currently reading, the book is called...

"What Happened To You? Conversations on trauma, resilience and healing"

It's written by Bruce D. Perry, MD, Ph.D and Oprah Winfrey.

I was slightly skimming through the book and this particular piece of writing in the beginning chapters caught my attention. The chapter is "Making Sense Of The World". This particular piece of writing was written by Oprah and it really got me reflecting you know. So, I wanna share that here today.

"More than 130 million babies are born in the world every year. Each arrives into their own unique set of social, economic, and cultural circumstances. Some are welcomed with gratitude and joy, cradled in the arms of their ecstatic parents and family. Others are more like me, experiencing rejection from a young mother who dreamed of a different life, a couple crushed by the pressures of poverty, an enraged father perpetuating a cycle of abuse.

Yet whether or not they’re loved, every current and former newborn (that’s you and me) shares one profoundly important trait. Despite the myriad circumstances into which we’re born, we come into the world with an innate sense of wholeness. We don’t begin our lives by asking: Am I enough? Am I worthy? Am I deserving or lovable?

Not one baby in the earliest moments of awareness asks, “Do I matter?” Their world is a place of wonder. But with their very first breaths, these tiny human beings begin trying to make sense of their surroundings. Who will nurture and care for them? What will bring comfort? And for so many little ones, life begins to take its toll, with violent eruptions by the caregiver or simply the lack of a soothing voice or a gentle touch. In our first encounters, our human experiences diverge.

The most pervasive feeling I remember from my own childhood is loneliness. My mother and father were together only once, underneath an old oak tree not far from the house where my mother, Vernita, was raised in Kosciusko, Mississippi. My father, Vernon, used to tell me I would never have been born if he hadn’t been curious about what was underneath my mother’s pink poodle skirt. Nine months after that singular encounter, I arrived. From the moment I could make sense of it, I knew I was unwanted. My father didn’t even know about me until my mother sent him a birth announcement and asked for money to buy baby clothes.

My grandmother Hattie Mae’s home was a place where children were seen and not heard. I have distinct memories of my grandfather shooing me away with his cane—yet no memory of him speaking directly to me. After my grandmother passed away, I was shuttled between my mother, who had moved to Milwaukee, and my father, in Nashville. Because I didn’t know either one, I struggled to develop strong roots or connections with my parents. My mother worked as a maid for fifty dollars a week in Fox Point, on the North Shore of Milwaukee, doing what she could to care for three young children. There was no time for nurturing. I was always trying not to bother her or worry her. My mother felt distant, cold to the needs of this little girl. All of the energy went to keeping her head above water, surviving. I always felt like a burden, an “extra mouth to feed.” I rarely remember feeling loved. From as early as I can remember, I knew I was on my own.

What I’ve learned from talking to so many victims of traumatic events, abuse, or neglect is that after absorbing these painful experiences, the child begins to ache. A deep longing to feel needed, validated, and valued begins to take hold. As these children grow, they lack the ability to set a standard for what they deserve. And if that lack is not addressed, what often follows is a complicated, frustrating pattern of self-sabotage, violence, promiscuity, or addiction.

This is where the work begins—the work to excavate the roots that were put down long before we had the words to articulate what was happening to us.

Dr. Perry has helped open my eyes to the ways in which powerful, frightening, or isolating sensory experiences that last mere seconds or are endured for years can remain locked deep in the brain. Yet as our brains develop, constantly absorbing new experiences while continuing to make sense of the world around us, every moment builds upon all the moments that came before.

I have always felt the truth of the saying that the acorn contains the oak. And through my work with Dr. Perry, I know this to be true, too: If we want to understand the oak, it’s back to the acorn we must go."

— Oprah

I've got to say this is one of the most enlightening piece of writing I've ever read. I'll be sure to send more pieces as I read the book.

I've gotta say I'm sharing this piece here today cause I totally can relate to her history, her past and some of her experiences. I guess that's why it resonated with me.

Alright, I guess that's it today. Until next time, toodles!

Image source- pixabay.com