Friday, February 23, 2024

Legacy

I’ve been pondering how we navigate our present by the stories we tell ourselves of our past. I attended a beloved teacher’s memorial last week. People spoke powerfully about the lasting influence his 50 years of teaching had on so many students and coworkers. It’s caused me to reflect on how our stories are our personal myths. Our legacies are of the myths others tell about us. 

A health worker friend recently told me of a teacher who’d told her, “Keep doing your good work but take the stories you tell yourself lightly because much of what you’ve been taught maybe wrong.” I was struck by the phrase, “take the stories you tell yourself lightly,” and not just about myself but the stories I tell myself about others. 


One story I tell myself concerns my score on the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) rating. ACEs is a tool that measures how the long term consequences of childhood trauma influence overall health and longevity. One of the simple things I’ve been able to recall over the years is people with a rating similar to mine may face a 20 year decrease in their life expectancy compared to those with an ACEs score of zero. It contributes to chronic health conditions such as alcoholism, addiction, depression, heart disease, diabetes, and cancer, as well as, inability to maintain stability in work and finances which can contribute to premature death. This is serious shit.


It’s not a leap to think of this as an entrance to imprisonment, commitment to mental institutions and rehabilitation facilities, or homelessness in tandem with the long term affects of our society’s insistence on perpetuating poverty, racism, sexism, and the other isms. While society dithers about addressing the negative impacts on children’s life experiences which are too numerous to list, these problems take a toll on all of us in one way or another and keep the wheels of generational trauma rolling, passing it down again, and again, and again. 


In order to not live that future, I have to be very intentional. I must acknowledge the impact of my history on how I live my life and the choices I make. More and more, I’m aware of the domino effect of multiple health conditions that put me at further risk such as an untreated youthful shoulder injury which leads to failed surgeries 40 years later, which causes me to be unable to use a cane when I need it, which puts me at risk for a serious fall that can lead to more health complications. Each untreated or poorly treated condition contributes to other conditions which increases my risk of further injury. Even with my best intentions, I am susceptible to this cycle. Aging for anyone increases these kinds of comorbidities.


Despite my ACEs score, I am one of the lucky ones. Although I’ve suffered from several chronic physical and mental health conditions directly related to my ACEs score, I’ve been able to have meaningful relationships, an impactful career, a daughter who contributes to society, and experienced no more than short term care in mental hospitals as an adult. My family members’ high ACEs scores continue to reek havoc in their lives. If I hadn’t been able to engage in weekly mental health therapy for my entire adult life and have a supportive, committed partner, I wouldn’t be able to reflect on and be writing this today. It’s not like it’s been a walk in the park. These challenges are tough whether we face them or not.


I have great sadness about the harm raging all around us in my community, my country, and our world. Trauma influences us at all levels and in all positions unless we demonstrate an ongoing commitment to understanding the origins of our rage. Rage is a potent contributor to our violence. Even with our awareness, our ability to consistently make different choices is compromised.


As I sit here writing this, I’ve spied a Great Blue Heron quietly standing in the shallow reeds not 100 yards from me on the lake edge. I’m afraid to move for fear of startling it. Perhaps if I very slowly grab the binoculars within arms reach, I can get a better look. In any case as I despair for humankind, I can rejoice for the magic of earth-kind. 


Success!  Beautiful and obscured by reeds, I wouldn’t have seen it had I not been sitting, facing the bounty of the lake. Five feet from the heron is a discarded plastic bottle symbolic of the world’s contradictions. The two coexist as the heron patiently hunts food. It takes two slow steps in the shallow water with its very long thin legs. I marvel at the beauty of nature while temporarily disregarding the spoils of humanity. Without spooking the heron, I watch. Soon I will begin my day with a semblance of peace and leave the heron to its business knowing that we both have our roles to play. I haven’t succumbed to my trauma nor the heron to the plastic bottle. That is a triumph of both our resilience in facing what life presents. We don’t create the conflicts but we do choose our responses. It’s a legacy I can get behind.


L’Chaim. 

Joceile


2/17/24





















[Picture: Great Blue Heron on the dock with reeds in the foreground on a different day.]