A former student from Canada (so international) joined us at the end of our first teaching weekend to talk about her experiences of the mindfulness course. She described experiencing PTSD in later life from a car accident when she was 17 which killed her friend and left her with massive burns on her body. She used therapy and a mindfulness practice to address this repressed trauma.
This former student was eloquent, authentic and captivating. However, the tears that I felt rise up inside me intuitively felt more than just a reaction to her beautiful and powerful story. I felt a wave of emotion so enormous that I had to switch my camera off. Tears streamed down my face and I felt myself sobbing, my whole body shaking.
I am becoming super attuned to my authentic self now and knew that something important was being released. My mind unexpectedly filled with images of Campbell, my brother's dad. Someone that I never knew as he was killed when my brother was only three. Campbell was a shepherd and his shot gun had back-fired when he was out on the hill. My mum had to make the decision to turn off his life support machine.
The last time that I was in Argyll during the summer, my mum and I visited Campbell's grave at Craignish Cemetery. We had visited Craignish Point as one of the things on my mum's bucket list was to get a close up view of the Corryvreckan, the fierce whirlpools in front of Scarba and this has the best vantage point.
This was the first time that I had ever been to the graveyard and I had stood for ages at Campbell's grave, magnetically drawn to a person whose presence had unconsciously defined a lot of my life. My mum openly acknowledges the impact of this trauma. She continues to be fearful that some one she loves won't return.
If I don't answer the phone, her anxiety is triggered and she has sometimes been known to repeatedly call until I answer. When I was younger, this used to drive me mad. However, as I have become older, more understanding and more compassionate of her story, I call her frequently so that she does not experience this anxiety.
I realised this tsunami of emotion which arose so unexpectedly in my living room was a response to my mum's own PTSD and the friendly ghost who has featured so much in my life. I had the wisdom to absolutely feel it, remembering the words of one of the tutors from the weekend-tears are a sign that something authentic is being expressed. I recognised the very vital need for me to acknowledge and then let go of this story.
My mum and I have arranged to visit Campbell's grave again when I visit Argyll in October. We are going to take some cleaning products and clean his grave. She has been talking about the cleaning products she has bought as we look forward to this shared plan. And I wonder if this is maybe an opportunity for her to let her story go.
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