Fear

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  In a field on the right worked three very old women; they were hoeing with a diligent and fatalistic patience. At any moment a stray shell might burst and then, presto! little left of the very old women. But what will you? There is war—there has been war so long—one must eat, even under the noses of the Germans; the bon Dieu knows this, He alone can protect—so meanwhile one just goes on diligently hoeing. A blackbird was singing to himself in a tree, the tree was horribly maimed and blasted; all the same he had known it the previous spring and so now, in spite of its wounds, he had found it. Came a sudden lull when they heard him distinctly. And Mary saw him: ‘Look,’ she said, ‘there’s a blackbird!’ Just for a moment she forgot about war. Yet Stephen could now very seldom forget, and this was because of the girl at her side. A queer, tight feeling would come round her heart, she would know the fear that can go hand in hand with personal courage, the fear for another. But now she looked down for a moment and smiled: ‘Bless that blackbird for letting you see him, Mary.’ She knew that Mary loved little, wild birds, that indeed she loved all the humbler creatures. They turned into a lane and were comparatively safe, but the roar of the guns had grown much more insistent. They must be nearing the Poste de Secours, so they spoke very little because of those guns, and after a while because of the wounded. 3The Poste de Secours was a ruined auberge at the cross-roads, about fifty yards behind the trenches. From what had once been its spacious cellar, they were hurriedly carrying up the wounded, maimed and mangled creatures who, a few hours ago, had been young and vigorous men. None too gently the stretchers were lowered to the ground beside the two waiting ambulances—none too gently because there were so many of them, and because there must come a time in all wars when custom stales even compassion.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Finally, however, with the approach of evening, the scholar, feeling he had done enough, sent for her clothes and wrapped them in his servant’s cloak, after which he made his way to the hapless lady’s house, where he found her maid sitting sadly and forlornly on the doorstep, not knowing what she should do. ‘My good woman,’ he said, ‘tell me, what has become of your mistress?’ ‘Sir,’ replied the maidservant, ‘I cannot rightly say. I was convinced that I saw her going to bed last night, and thought I should find her there this morning. But she was nowhere to be seen, and I have no idea what has become of her. I am dreadfully worried about her, but perhaps you, sir, have brought me some news of her whereabouts?’ ‘Would to God,’ replied the scholar, ‘that I had been able to put you in the place where I have put your mistress, so that I could punish you for your sins as I have punished your mistress for hers! But I assure you that you shan’t escape from my clutches until I have paid you back with so much interest that you’ll never make a fool of any man again without remembering me first.’ Then, turning to his servant, he said: ‘Give her these clothes and tell her to go and fetch her, if she wants to.’ The servant did as he was bidden, and the maid, having seized the clothes from his hands, and recognized them, turned pale with terror, strongly suspecting, in view of what she had been told, that they had murdered her. Scarcely able to prevent herself from screaming, she burst into tears, and, the scholar having now departed, she immediately set off at a run towards the tower, with the clothes under her arm. That same afternoon, a swineherd from the lady’s estate had had the misfortune to lose two of his pigs, and, searching all over for them, he arrived at the tower shortly after the scholar had left. Peering into every nook and cranny to see whether his pigs were anywhere to be found, he heard the unfortunate lady’s despairing moans, and climbing as far up the tower as he could, he called out: ‘Who is it that is crying up there?’ Recognizing the swineherd’s voice, the lady called to him by name, and said: ‘Alas! go fetch my maid and tell her to come up here.’ ‘Oh my God!’ he exclaimed, seeing who it was. ‘How ever did you get up there, ma’am? Your maid has been searching high and low for you the whole day. But who would have thought of looking for you here?’ Seizing the ladder by the two uprights, he set it in the proper position and began to tie on the rungs by means of withies.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Since the nervous system only recognizes that the threat has passed when the mobilized energy has been discharged, it will keep mobilizing energy indefinitely until the discharge happens. At the same time, the nervous system recognizes that the amount of energy in the system is too much for the organism to handle and it applies a brake so powerful that the entire organism shuts down on the spot. With the organism completely immobilized, the tremendous energy in the nervous system is held in check. The helplessness that is experienced at such times is not the ordinary sense of helplessness that can affect anyone from time to time. The sense of being completely immobilized and helpless is not a perception, belief, or a trick of the imagination. It is real. The body cannot move. This is abject helplessnes s — a sense of paralysis so profound that the person cannot scream, move, or feel. Of the four key components that form the core of the traumatic reaction, helplessness is the one you are least likely to have experienced, unless you have suffered an overwhelming threat to your life. Yet, this profound sense of helplessness is nearly always present in the early stages of “overwhelm” resulting from a traumatic event. If you closely examine your reactions to the three scenarios in the exercise at the beginning of the chapter, you may be able to identify a very mild version of helplessness. When the event is real and unfolding in a truly disastrous way, the effect of helplessness is drastically amplified. Later, when the threat is over, the intense helplessness and immobilization effects will wear off, but not completely. When we are traumatized, an echo of this feeling of being frozen remains with us. Like hyperarousal and constriction, helplessness is an overt reflection of the physiological processes happening in the body. When our nervous systems shift into an aroused state in response to danger, and we cannot defend ourselves or flee, the next strategy the nervous system employs is immobilization. Nearly every creature that lives has this primitive response wired into its repertoire of defensive strategies. We will return again and again to this intriguing response in the chapters that follow. It plays a leading role in both the development and transformation of trauma. And Then There Was Trauma Hyperarousal, constriction, helplessness, and dissociation are all normal responses to threat. As such, they do not always end up as traumatic symptoms. Only when they are habitual and chronic do symptoms develop. As these stress reactions remain in place, they form the groundwork and fuel for the development of subsequent symptoms. Within months, these symptoms at the core of the traumatic reaction will begin to incorporate mental and psychological characteristics into their dynamics until eventually they reach into every corner of the trauma sufferer’s life.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  That is why I feel that the study of wild animal behavior is essential to the understanding and healing of human trauma. The involuntary and instinctual portions of the human brain and nervous system are virtually identical to those of other mammals and even reptiles. Our brain, often called the triune brain, consists of three integral systems. The three parts are commonly known as the reptilian brain (instinctual), the mammalian or limbic brain (emotional), and the human brain or neo-cortex (rational). Since the parts of the brain that are activated by a perceived life- threatening situation are the parts we share with animals, much can be learned by studying how certain animals, like the impala, avoid traumatization. To take this one step further, I believe that the key to healing traumatic symptoms in humans lies in our being able to mirror the fluid adaptation of wild animals as they shake out and pass through the immobility response and become fully mobile and functional again. Unlike wild animals, when threatened we humans have never found it easy to resolve the dilemma of whether to fight or flee. This dilemma stems, at least in part, from the fact that our species has played the role of both predator and prey. Prehistoric peoples, though many were hunters, spent long hours each day huddled together in cold caves with the certain knowledge that they could be snatched up at any moment and torn to shreds. Our chances for survival increased as we gathered in larger groups, discovered fire, and invented tools, many of which were weapons used for hunting and self-defense. However, the genetic memory of being easy prey has persisted in our brains and nervous systems. Lacking both the swiftness of an impala and the lethal fangs and claws of a stalking cheetah, our human brains often second guess our ability to take life-preserving action. This uncertainty has made us particularly vulnerable to the powerful effects of trauma. Animals like the agile, darting impala know they are prey and are intimate with their survival resources. They sense what they need to do and they do it. Likewise, the sleek cheetah’s seventy-miles-an-hour sprint and treacherous fangs and claws make it a self-assured predator. The line is not so clearly delineated for the human animal. When confronted with a life-threatening situation, our rational brains may become confused and override our instinctive impulses. Though this overriding may be done for a good reason, the confusion that accompanies it sets the stage for what I call the “Medusa Comple x ” — the drama called trauma. As in the Greek myth of Medusa, the human confusion that may ensue when we stare death in the face can turn us to stone.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  To the cure of these maladies nor counsel[5] of physician nor virtue of any medicine appeared to avail or profit aught; on the contrary,--whether it was that the nature of the infection suffered it not or that the ignorance of the physicians (of whom, over and above the men of art, the number, both men and women, who had never had any teaching of medicine, was become exceeding great,) availed not to know whence it arose and consequently took not due measures thereagainst,--not only did few recover thereof, but well nigh all died within the third day from the appearance of the aforesaid signs, this sooner and that later, and for the most part without fever or other accident.[6] And this pestilence was the more virulent for that, by communication with those who were sick thereof, it gat hold upon the sound, no otherwise than fire upon things dry or greasy, whenas they are brought very near thereunto. Nay, the mischief was yet greater; for that not only did converse and consortion with the sick give to the sound infection of cause of common death, but the mere touching of the clothes or of whatsoever other thing had been touched or used of the sick appeared of itself to communicate the malady to the toucher. A marvellous thing to hear is that which I have to tell and one which, had it not been seen of many men's eyes and of mine own, I had scarce dared credit, much less set down in writing, though I had heard it from one worthy of belief. I say, then, that of such efficience was the nature of the pestilence in question in communicating itself from one to another, that, not only did it pass from man to man, but this, which is much more, it many times visibly did;--to wit, a thing which had pertained to a man sick or dead of the aforesaid sickness, being touched by an animal foreign to the human species, not only infected this latter with the plague, but in a very brief space of time killed it. Of this mine own eyes (as hath a little before been said) had one day, among others, experience on this wise; to wit, that the rags of a poor man, who had died of the plague, being cast out into the public way, two hogs came up to them and having first, after their wont, rooted amain among them with their snouts, took them in their mouths and tossed them about their jaws; then, in a little while, after turning round and round, they both, as if they had taken poison, fell down dead upon the rags with which they had in an ill hour intermeddled. [Footnote 5: Syn. help, remedy.] [Footnote 6: _Accidente_, what a modern physician would call "complication." "Symptom" does not express the whole meaning of the Italian word.]

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Some injustices may have occurred due to the misunderstanding of the biological drama that was perhaps being played out. It is possible that a number of these women may have been acting upon the profound (and delayed) self-protective responses of rage and counter-attack that they experienced coming out of agitated immobility. These reprisals may be biologically motivated, and not necessarily by premeditated revenge. Some of these killings could have been prevented by effective treatment of post-traumatic shock. In post-traumatic anxiety, immobility is maintained primarily from within. The impulse towards intense aggression is so frightening that the traumatized person often turns it inward on themselves rather than allow it external expression. This imploded anger takes the form of anxious depression and the varied symptoms of post-traumatic stress. Like the pigeon that tries frantically to escape, but is recaptured and held prisoner once more, trauma victims beginning to exit immobility are often trapped by their own fear of abrupt activation and their potential for violence. They remain in a vicious cycle of terror, rage, and immobility. They are primed for full-out escape or raging counter-attack, but remain inhibited because of fear of violence to themselves and others. Like Death Itself In Chapter Seven, we discussed the biological advantage of the immobility response for prey animals. Deceiving a predator into believing its quarry is already dead often works. However, the predator is not the only actor on the stage who responds to immobility as though its prey were dead. The physiology of the immobilized animal acts as though it were dead. Animals can actually die from “immobility response overdose.” The reptilian brain has ultimate control over life and death. If it receives repeated messages that the animal is dead, it may comply. In most cases, however, the reptilian brain does not constantly register that the animal is dead; therefore, there are no serious consequences. The animal remains in the immobility state for a period of time and then moves out of it through trembling discharge. The incident is completed. Due to our highly developed brains, the process of leaving the immobility state becomes more complicated for humans. The fear of experiencing terror, rage, and violence toward oneself or others, or of being overwhelmed by the energy discharged in the mobilization process, keeps the human immobility response in place. These are not the only components that keep the freezing response from completion. The fear of death is another. Our neo- cortex informs us that immobility feels like death. Death is an experience that humans vehemently avoid. Animals have no such prohibitive awareness; for them life and death are parts of one system, a purely biological matter. Humans understand what death means and we fear it.

• From Apprenticed to Venus: My Secret Life with Anaïs Nin (2017)

  Having recently faced death anyway, she thought, what did it matter? At least she was making one person happy, and Rupert, with his right hand now cupping her breast, a gold wedding band glinting on his left, was truly, innocently happy. He whistled a Bach sonata, his member rising for her in his good pair of slacks. [image file=image_rsrc3R3.jpg] Their honeymoon consisted of Rupert taking her hiking in the immolated mountains above their cabin. They tramped past trees with gnarled arms like blackened grape vines and basins of mud hardened into the shape of waves. She gasped when she saw their destination, a valley carpeted with poppies bright as a Buddhist monk’s robes. “It’s nature’s cycle for the chaparral to burn every century or so.” Rupert swept an arm dramatically. “Only after that huge conflagration, Anaïs, do certain rare fire flowers grow.” He bent to pluck a speck of white nestled in the spread of poppies and purple lupine. “This one! I remember seeing a sketch of it in an old book on fire flowers. A few of these might appear next spring, but after that, not for a hundred years or so.” She took the delicate white stem from him and when she held it up, the wind blew it in a frenetic dance. She thought it the perfect metaphor for her own regeneration after her scorching illness. Like this flower born out of ash, she had emerged from her near death as a new bride in white again. Like this rare bloom, hers would be a crazy dance that could not last. [image file=image_rsrc3R3.jpg] Anaïs had followed her heart leading to an illegal act that, at all costs, she had to keep secret. Any mistake, any slip of the tongue or lapse of attention, would cost her everything. She would lose both Rupert and Hugo, and she knew she would not survive it. She had chosen not to choose, and in so doing she had entered the land of neither and both, the land of the absurd where no ordinary laws applied. Other women dreamt of having more than one love, of combining the qualities of two men into one perfect husband. But only she had dared to live that dream. At first, her fear of being found out and arrested by the authorities scared her day and night. But in time, being married to two men felt no different from the years she’d spent traveling between husband and lover. Over the next ten years, her swings between New York and Los Angeles became as regular as a pendulum.

• From Apprenticed to Venus: My Secret Life with Anaïs Nin (2017)

  “I don’t believe Hugo is capable of an open marriage.” “But he’s capable of having an affair!” Bogner seemed to nod, or was she just catching a stitch in her knitting? The analyst then raised her face and looked directly at Anaïs with her functioning eye. “Can you ask Hugo for a divorce now?” “So he can marry his mistress without me in the way? Absolutely not!” “Are you prepared to divorce Rupert?” “No, I need Rupert more than ever now that Hugo has a mistress!” The solution of an open marriage that could release Anaïs from her abiding guilt and terror of discovery had appeared like a strip of film through Hugo’s editing machine window and then flown out with a zip. She had no choice but to continue on the trapeze. [image file=image_rsrc3R3.jpg] Anaïs was alone in the apartment, and Hugo was out late again, probably dancing with his young mistress. The phone rang. A nurse at New York Hospital said, “Mrs. Guiler, I’m sorry to tell you your husband has been in an accident.” No! Please God, not Hugo! Not after Peter’s death. “He’s going to be alright, Mrs. Guiler. Given he’s in traction.” It took her a while to sort out that Hugo had fallen from kicking too high in class and had fractured a leg. The next morning, Anaïs arrived at Hugo’s hospital room and spent the day with him, waiting to face down the mistress who never showed. A week later, when Hugo and a traction apparatus were delivered to the apartment, there had still been no sign of the young woman who likely was gyrating with someone else now. Once Hugo and his pain pills and bedpan were hers to deal with, Anaïs almost wished the mistress would claim him. Millie had gone, inconveniently, on her Christmas leave, and Anaïs found herself having to feed and nurse him day and night. There was nothing to do but turn Hugo’s helplessness into an opportunity. She rented a nurse’s cap and mini-skirted white uniform from a costume store and wore it with high heels to attend to him. After several weeks of her flirtatious ministrations, their marriage settled into an affectionate, unspoken understanding that she would continue her periodic trips to Los Angeles and he would hold onto her by remaining in denial. Anaïs resolved that from then on she would be not just a liar, but the best liar; not just desirable, but unforgettable; not just a bigamist, but the most wonderful wife any two men could imagine, so that neither would ever wander from her again. That was, unfortunately, when Rupert phoned at 1:20 a.m. Anaïs, who had been sleeping on the daybed in Hugo’s office, picked up the receiver. She could hear Hugo pick up the other line from his hospital bed in the master bedroom. She knew he could hear Rupert’s drunken rant. “Tell me the truth, Anaïs! Are you still living with Hugo?”

• From The Decameron (1353)

  By a stroke of ill-luck, the ship in which the wretched, destitute Landolfo was travelling was driven by the force of the gale on to the coast of the island of Cephalonia, where she ran aground with a tremendous crash, split wide open, and like a piece of glass being flung against a wall, was smashed to smithereens. As is usually the case when this happens, the sea was rapidly littered with an assortment of floating planks, chests and merchandise. And although it was pitch dark and there was a heavy swell, the poor wretches who had survived the wreck, or those of them who could swim, began to cling to whatever object happened to float across their path. One of their number was poor Landolfo, who had in fact been calling out all day for death to come and take him, for he felt he would rather die than return home poverty-stricken. But now that he was staring death in the face, he was frightened by the prospect, and like the others he too clung to the first spar that came within his reach, in the hope that by remaining afloat for a little longer, God might somehow come to his rescue. Settling himself astride the spar as best he could, he clung on till daybreak, meanwhile being tossed hither and thither by sea and wind. When dawn came, he cast his eyes around him, but all he could see was clouds and water, and a chest floating on the sea’s surface. To his great consternation, this chest floated every so often into his vicinity, causing him to fear lest it should collide into him and do him an injury. So whenever it came too near, he summoned up the meagre strength he still possessed, and pushed it away as best he could with his hands. But as luck would have it, the sea was struck by a sudden squall, which sent the chest hurtling into Landolfo’s spar, upending it and inevitably causing Landolfo to lose his grip and go under. When he re-surfaced, he found that he was some distance away from the spar, and was afraid that he would never reach it, for he was exhausted and only his panic was keeping him afloat. He therefore made for the chest, which was quite close at hand, and dragging himself up on its lid, he sprawled across it and held it steady with his arms. And in this fashion, buffeted this way and that by the sea, with nothing to eat and far more to drink than he would have wished, not knowing where he was and seeing nothing but water, he survived for the whole of that day and the following night. By the next day, Landolfo had almost turned into a sponge when, either through the will of God or the power of the wind, he arrived off the coast of the island of Corfu.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  However, he had not progressed very far when he became uncomfortably aware of the odour emanating from his person, and, deciding he had better make for the sea in order to have a wash, he turned off to the left and started to walk along a street known as the Ruga Catalana. 5 As he was approaching the upper part of the city, he happened to see two people coming towards him carrying a lantern, and fearing lest they might turn out to be officers of the watch or a pair of cut-throats, he decided to avoid them by slipping quietly into a nearby hut. But the two men also came into the same hut, as though it were the very place they had been heading for. Once inside, one of them put down some iron tools he had been carrying over his shoulder, and they both began to inspect these and pass various comments about them. Presently, the first man said: ‘What can be causing this unholy stench? I reckon it’s the worst I’ve ever smelt.’ As he said this, they raised their lantern a little, and catching sight of poor Andreuccio, they let out a gasp of astonishment and demanded to know who he was. Andreuccio at first said nothing, but when they took the light nearer to him and asked him what he was doing there, covered with filth in this manner, he told them the whole story of his adventures. The two men, who could well imagine where all this had taken place, said to each other: ‘It must have happened round at Butch Belchfire’s 6 place.’ Then one of them said, addressing Andreuccio: ‘Listen, friend, you may have lost your money, but you can thank God that you happened to fall and couldn’t get back into the house. Because if you hadn’t fallen, you can rest assured that as soon as you were asleep you would have been done in, and in that case you’d have lost your life as well as your money. What’s the use of crying over spilt milk? You’ve about as much chance of plucking stars from the heavens as you have of recovering a single penny. But you may very well have your throat cut, if you ever breathe a word about it and he finds out.’ The two men then conferred briefly together, after which they said to him: ‘Look, we’re feeling sorry for you, and since we were on our way to do a little job, if you’d like to join us we can almost guarantee that your share of the proceeds will more than make up for what you’ve lost.’ And as he was feeling desperate, Andreuccio agreed to go with them. Now, just a few hours earlier, the burial had taken place of an archbishop whose name was Messer Filippo Minutolo.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  To the cure of these maladies nor counsel[5] of physician nor virtue of any medicine appeared to avail or profit aught; on the contrary,--whether it was that the nature of the infection suffered it not or that the ignorance of the physicians (of whom, over and above the men of art, the number, both men and women, who had never had any teaching of medicine, was become exceeding great,) availed not to know whence it arose and consequently took not due measures thereagainst,--not only did few recover thereof, but well nigh all died within the third day from the appearance of the aforesaid signs, this sooner and that later, and for the most part without fever or other accident.[6] And this pestilence was the more virulent for that, by communication with those who were sick thereof, it gat hold upon the sound, no otherwise than fire upon things dry or greasy, whenas they are brought very near thereunto. Nay, the mischief was yet greater; for that not only did converse and consortion with the sick give to the sound infection of cause of common death, but the mere touching of the clothes or of whatsoever other thing had been touched or used of the sick appeared of itself to communicate the malady to the toucher. A marvellous thing to hear is that which I have to tell and one which, had it not been seen of many men's eyes and of mine own, I had scarce dared credit, much less set down in writing, though I had heard it from one worthy of belief. I say, then, that of such efficience was the nature of the pestilence in question in communicating itself from one to another, that, not only did it pass from man to man, but this, which is much more, it many times visibly did;--to wit, a thing which had pertained to a man sick or dead of the aforesaid sickness, being touched by an animal foreign to the human species, not only infected this latter with the plague, but in a very brief space of time killed it. Of this mine own eyes (as hath a little before been said) had one day, among others, experience on this wise; to wit, that the rags of a poor man, who had died of the plague, being cast out into the public way, two hogs came up to them and having first, after their wont, rooted amain among them with their snouts, took them in their mouths and tossed them about their jaws; then, in a little while, after turning round and round, they both, as if they had taken poison, fell down dead upon the rags with which they had in an ill hour intermeddled. [Footnote 5: Syn. help, remedy.] [Footnote 6: _Accidente_, what a modern physician would call "complication." "Symptom" does not express the whole meaning of the Italian word.]

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The woman was convinced, on hearing this, that her final hour had come. But all the same she wanted to conceal the youth if possible, and not having the presence of mind to hide him in some other part of the house, she persuaded him to crawl beneath a chicken-coop in the lean-to adjoining the room where they were dining, and threw a large sack over the top of it, which she had emptied of its contents earlier in the day. This done, she quickly let in her husband, to whom she said as he entered the house: ‘You soon gobbled down that supper of yours.’ ‘We never ate a crumb of it,’ replied Pietro. ‘And why was that?’ said his wife. ‘I’ll tell you why it was,’ said Pietro. ‘No sooner had Ercolano, his wife and myself taken our places at table than we heard someone sneezing, close beside where we were sitting. We took no notice the first time it happened, or the second, but when the sneezing was repeated for the third, fourth and fifth times, and a good many more besides, we were all struck dumb with astonishment. Ercolano was in a bad mood anyway because his wife had kept us waiting for ages before opening the door to let us in, and he rounded on her almost choking with fury, saying: “What’s the meaning of this? Who’s doing all that sneezing?” He then got up from the table, and walked over to the stairs, beneath which there was an alcove boarded in with timber, such as people very often use for storing away bits and pieces when they’re tidying up the house. ‘As this was the place from which Ercolano thought the sneezes were coming, he opened a little door in the wainscoting, whereupon the whole room was suddenly filled with the most appalling smell of sulphur, though a little while before, when we caught a whiff of sulphur and complained about it, Ercolano’s wife said: “It’s because I was using sulphur earlier in the day to bleach my veils. I sprinkled it into a large bowl so that they would absorb the fumes, then placed it in the cupboard under the stairs, and it’s still giving off a faint smell.” After opening the little door and waiting for the fumes to the down a little, Ercolano peered inside and caught sight of the fellow who’d been doing all the sneezing, and was still sneezing his head off because of the sulphur. But if he’d stayed there much longer he would never have sneezed again, nor would he have done anything else for that matter.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  ‘I will tell you about it,’ said Friar Alberto. ‘When I was praying in my cell that night, as I invariably do, I suddenly saw a great pool of radiant light, and before I was able to turn round and discover its source, I caught sight of an incredibly handsome young man, standing over me with a heavy stick in his hand. He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, dragged me to the floor at his feet, and beat me so severely that my body was an aching mass of weals and bruises. When I asked him why he had done it, he replied: “Because, earlier today, you had the infernal cheek to speak ill of Monna Lisetta’s celestial charms, and apart from God himself there is no one I love so dearly.” I then asked him who he was, and he told me that he was the Angel Gabriel. “Oh, sir,” said I, “I beg you to forgive me.” “Very well,” said he, “I shall forgive you, but on this sole condition, that you pay a personal call on the lady at your earliest opportunity and offer her your apologies. And should she refuse to accept them, I shall come back here again and give you such a hiding that you will never recover from it.” He then went on to tell me something else, but I dare not tell you what it was unless you forgive me first.’ Being somewhat feeble in the upper storey, Lady Bighead believed every word and felt positively giddy with joy. She paused a little, then said: ‘You see, Friar Alberto? I told you my charms were celestial. However, so help me God, I do feel sorry for you, and in order to spare you any further injury I shall pardon you forthwith, but only on condition that you tell me what it was that the Angel said next.’ ‘Since I am forgiven, madam, I will gladly tell you,’ he replied. ‘However, I must ask you to take great care never to repeat it to another living soul, because by so doing you will ruin everything and you will no longer be the luckiest woman alive, as you assuredly are at present.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  A bird that crashes into a window, mistaking it for open sky, will appear stunned or even dead. A child who sees the bird’s collision with the glass may have a hard time keeping away from the wounded animal. The child may pick the bird up out of curiosity, concern, or a desire to help. The warmth of the child’s hands can facilitate the bird’s return to normal functioning. As the bird begins to tremble, it will show signs that it is reorienting to its surroundings. It may stagger slightly, try to regain its balance, and look around. If the bird is not injured and is allowed to go through the trembling-reorienting process without interruption, it can move through its immobilization and fly away without being traumatized. If the trembling is interrupted, the animal may suffer serious consequences. If the child tries to pet the animal when it begins to show signs of life, the reorienting process may be disrupted, propelling the bird back into shock. If the discharge process is repeatedly disturbed, each successive state of shock will last longer. As a result, the bird may die of frigh t- overwhelmed by its own helplessness. Although we rarely die, humans suffer when we are unable to discharge the energy that is locked in by the freezing response. The traumatized veteran, the rape survivor, the abused child, the impala, and the bird all have been confronted by overwhelming situations. If they are unable to orient and choose between fight or flight, they will freeze or collapse. Those who are able to discharge that energy will be restored. Rather than moving through the freezing response, as animals do routinely, humans often begin a downward spiral characterized by an increasingly debilitating constellation of symptoms. To move through trauma we need quietness, safety, and protection similar to that offered the bird in the gentle warmth of the child’s hands. We need support from friends and relatives, as well as from nature. With this support and connection, we can begin to trust and honor the natural process that will bring us to completion and wholeness, and eventually peace.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  As Dostoevski and Zimbardo point out, humans have great difficulty in accepting that some aspect of our experience simply cannot be explained. Once the primitive orienting response is invoked, we feel compelled to seek an explanation. When an explanation cannot be found, we usually don’t use our powerful cognitive abilities to recognize what is happening. Even if we are able to think clearly, our cognitive powers cannot completely override the primitive need to identify the source of our distress. If, in contrast, the body/mind succeeds in locating the source of its distress (as in the example of Nancy in Chapter Two), the primitive need to identify some source of danger is satisfied. A natural, successful defensive response will then arise to complete the experience. For many of us, this is a giant step toward healing trauma. Typically, however, we use our cognitive abilities to push the matter further – to figure it out and give it a name (or remember it). In so doing we separate ourselves even further from the experience. In that separateness, the seeds of trauma have fertile ground in which to root and grow. The animal that is unable to locate a source of arousal will freeze rather than flee. When the freezing response begins to override Mrs. Thayer’s extreme im-pulse to flee, she rationalizes (using her neo-cortex) that she will die if she tries to escape the house. She is not only without explanation for her extreme physiological arousal, but she also sets up her own dilemma by convincing herself that if she escapes she will die. Mrs. Thayer then enters into a tight, self-made web of fear-induced immobility. Like the Chowchilla children (Chapter Two), Mrs. Thayer is more afraid to escape than to remain trapped. Her neo-cortex tries in vain to explain, while her reptilian brain compels her to act. In the clutch of her terror and self-defeating confusion, Mrs. Thayer will finally focus on her frantic breathing to the exclusion of all else. When she finally suspends her need to understand, she allows her reptilian brain to complete its course of actio n— that of discharging the extraordinary level of energy that has built up inside of her. We are not told why the energy is there. Perhaps even Mrs Thayer does not consciously know. Fortunately for her (and for us), it does not matter. By focusing on the felt sense of her own breath, Mrs Thayer discharges the energy that was the source of her panic attack. Can’t Synthesize New Informatio n/ Can’t Learn

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  As humans begin to emerge from immobility, we are seized often by sudden and overpowering surges of emotion. Because these surges are not immediately acted upon, this energy can become associated with enormous amounts of rage and terror. Fear and the fear of violence to self and others reactivates the immobility, extending it, often indefinitely, in the form of frozen terror. This is the vicious circle of trauma. Nancy Re-examined: A First Step When I tried to help Nancy (Chapter Two) relax, she began to come out of her long-held immobility reaction. The arousal and emotions of rage and terror that had been held in check most of her life broke through dramatically. In responding to the inner image of the attacking tiger, Nancy was able (decades later) to uncouple her frozen energy by completing an active escape response. In running from the imaginary tiger, Nancy was able to mobilize an intense, biologically appropriate response that allowed he r — in the presen t — to discharge the heightened arousal that had been unleashed as her immobility began to release. By exchanging (in that highly aroused state) an active response for one of helplessness, Nancy exercised a physiological choice. Her organism was learning almost instantaneously that it didn’t have to freeze. The core of traumatic reaction is ultimately physiological, and it is at this level that healing begins. It’s All Energy The forces underlying the immobility response and the traumatic emotions of terror, rage, and helplessness are ultimately biological energies. How we access and integrate this energy is what determines whether we will continue to be frozen and overwhelmed, or whether we will move through it and thaw. We have a lot going for us. Given the proper support and guidance, we can conquer our fears. With the full use of our highly developed ability to think and perceive, we can consciously move out of the trauma response. This process needs to occur gradually rather than abruptly. When working with the intensely cathartic and volatile expressions of rage, terror, and helplessness, it is best to take one small step at a time. The drive to complete the freezing response remains active no matter how long it has been in place. When we learn how to harness it, the power of this drive becomes our greatest ally in working through the symptoms of trauma. The drive is persistent. Even if we do not do things perfectly, it will always be there to give us another chance. Nancy’s remarkable “cure” was due to the critical timing of her escape from the tiger at the very peak moment of her panic arousal. It was as though Nancy had a single chance either to escape and be cured or to tumble back into a whirlpool of overwhelming helplessness and anxiety.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  It’s an important first step toward bridging the split between body, mind, and spirit that often occurs in the wake of trauma. My belief is in the blood and flesh as being wiser than the intellect. The body-unconscious is where life bubbles up in us. It is how we know that we are alive, alive to the depths of our souls and in touch somewhere with the vivid reaches of the cosmos. – D.H. Lawrence 6. In Trauma’s Reflection Medusa In this chapter we begin to explore a general approach to mastering trauma. In being able to experience ourselves as sensing human animals we can begin to loosen trauma’s grip on us and to transform its powerful energies. We don’t confront it directly, however, or we could find ourselves seized in its frightening grip. Like a Chinese finger trap, we must gently slide into trauma and then draw ourselves gradually out. In the myth of Medusa, anyone who looked directly into her eyes would quickly turn to stone. Such is the case with trauma. If we attempt to confront trauma head on, it will continue to do what it has already don e - immobilize us in fear. Before Perseus set out to conquer Medusa, he was warned by Athena not to look directly at the Gorgon. Heeding the goddess’s wisdom, he used his shield to reflect Medusa’s image; by doing so, he was able to cut off her head. Likewise, the solution to vanquishing trauma comes not through confronting it directly, but by working with its reflection, mirrored in our instinctual responses. Trauma is so arresting that traumatized people will focus on it compulsively. Unfortunately, the situation that defeated them once will defeat them again and again. Body sensations can serve as a guide to reflect where we are experiencing trauma, and to lead us to our instinctual resources. These resources give us the power to protect ourselves from predators and other hostile forces. Each of us possesses these instinctual resources. Once we learn how to access them we can create our own shields to reflect and heal our traumas. In dreams, mythical stories, and lore, one universal symbol for the human body and its instinctual nature is the horse. Interestingly enough, when Medusa was slain, two things emerged from her body: Pegasus, the winged horse, and Chrysaor, a warrior with a golden sword. We couldn’t find a more appropriate metaphor. The sword symbolizes absolute truth, the mythic hero's ultimate weapon of defense. It conveys a sense of clarity and triumph, of rising to meet extraordinary challenges, and of ultimate resourcefulness. The horse symbolizes instinctual grounding, while wings create an image of movement, soaring, and rising above an earth-bound existence. Since the horse represents instinct and body, the winged horse speaks of transformation through embodiment.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The maid went up, and by the light of the stars she saw him sitting there just as we have described him, bare-footed and wearing only his shirt, and quivering all over like a jelly. She asked him who he was, and Rinaldo, who was shaking so much that he could hardly articulate, told her his name and explained as briefly as possible how and why he came to be there. He then implored her, in an agonized voice, to do whatever she could to prevent his being left there all night slowly freezing to death. The maid, feeling very sorry for him, returned to her mistress and told her the whole story. The lady too was filled with pity, and, remembering that she had a key for that particular door, which the Marquis occasionally used for his clandestine visits, she said to the maid: ‘Go and let him in, but do it quietly. We have this supper here, and no one to eat it. And we can easily put him up, for there’s plenty of room.’ The maid warmly commended her mistress’s charity, then she went and opened the door and let him in. Perceiving that he was almost frozen stiff, the lady of the house said to him: ‘Quickly, good sir, step into that bath whilst it is still warm.’ He willingly obeyed, without waiting to be bidden twice. His whole body was refreshed by its warmth, and he felt as if he were returning from death to life. The lady had him supplied with clothes that had once belonged to her husband, who had died quite recently, and when he put them on they fitted him to perfection. As he awaited further instructions from the lady, he fell to thanking God and Saint Julian for rescuing him from the cruel night he had been expecting, and leading him to what appeared a good lodging. Meanwhile the lady had taken a brief rest, having first ordered a huge fire to be lit in one of the rooms, to which she presently came, asking what had become of the gentleman. ‘He’s dressed, ma’am,’ replied the maid, ‘and he’s ever so handsome, and seems a very decent and respectable person.’ ‘Then go and call him,’ said the woman, ‘and tell him to come here by the fire and have some supper, for I know he has not had anything to eat.’ On entering the room, Rinaldo, judging from her appearance that she was a lady of quality, greeted her with due reverence and thanked her with all the eloquence at his command for the kindness she had done him. When she saw him and heard him speak, the lady concluded that her maid had been right, and she welcomed him cordially, installed him in a comfortable chair beside her own in front of the fire, and asked him what had happened and how he came to be there, whereupon Rinaldo told her the whole story in detail.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Regardless of how we view ourselves, in the most basic sense we literally are human animals. The fundamental challenges we face today have come about relatively quickly, but our nervous systems have been much slower to change. It is no coincidence that people who are more in touch with their natural selves tend to fare better when it comes to trauma. Without easy access to the resources of this primitive, instinctual self, humans alienate their bodies from their souls. Most of us don’t think of or experience ourselves as animals. Yet, by not living through our instincts and natural reactions, we aren’t fully human either. Existing in a limbo in which we are neither animal nor fully human can cause a number of problems, one of which is being susceptible to trauma. In order to stay healthy, our nervous systems and psyches need to face challenges and to succeed in meeting those challenges. When this need is not met, or when we are challenged and cannot triumph, we end up lacking vitality and are unable to fully engage in life. Those of us who have been defeated by war, abuse, accidents, and other traumatic events suffer far more severe consequences. Trauma! Few people question the seriousness of the problems created by trauma, yet we have difficulty comprehending how many people are affected by it. In a recent study of more than one thousand men and women, it was found that forty percent had gone through a traumatic event in the past three years. Most often cited were: being raped or physically assaulted; being in a serious accident; witnessing someone else being killed or injured. As many as thirty percent of the homeless people in this country are thought to be Vietnam veterans suffering from post-traumatic stress. Somewhere between seventy-five and one hundred million Americans have experienced childhood sexual and physical abuse. The conservative AMA estimates that over thirty percent of all married women, as well as thirty percent of pregnant women, have been beaten by their spouses. One woman is beaten by her husband or lover every nine seconds (the beatings of pregnant women are also traumatic to the fetus). War and violence have affected the lives of nearly every man, woman, and child living on this planet. In the last few years, entire communities have been wiped out or devastated by natural disaster s - Hurricane Hugo, Andrew, and Iniki; flooding of the Midwest and California; the Oakland Fire; the Loma Prieta, Los Angeles, Mexico City, Cairo, and Kobe Earthquakes; and many more. All of the people affected by these events are at risk or are already suffering from trauma. Many other people have traumatic symptoms that go unrecognized. For example, ten to fifteen percent of all adults suffer from panic attacks, unexplained anxiety, or phobias. As many as seventy-five percent of the people who go to doctors have complaints that are labeled psychosomatic because no physical explanation can be found for them.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  However, there are many ways in which people sin through their desires, and you, gracious ladies, sin above all in one particular way, which is in your desiring to be beautiful, inasmuch as, being dissatisfied with the attractions bestowed upon you by Nature, you go to extraordinary lengths in trying to improve them. And therefore I would like to tell you a story about a Saracen girl’s ill-starred beauty, which in the space of about four years caused her to be newly married on nine separate occasions. A long time ago, Babylon was ruled by a sultan called Beminedab, 1 during whose reign it was unusual for anything to happen that was contrary to his wishes. Apart from numerous other children, both male and female, this man possessed a daughter called Alatiel, 2 who, at that period, according to everybody who had set eyes on her, was the most beautiful woman to be found anywhere on earth. Now, the Sultan had recently been attacked by a great horde of Arabs, and inflicted a major defeat on his aggressors, receiving timely assistance from the King of Algarve, 3 who asked the Sultan, as a special favour, to give him Alatiel as his wife. The Sultan agreed, and having seen her aboard a well-armed and well-appointed ship with a retinue of noblemen and noblewomen and a large quantity of elegant and precious accoutrements, he bade her a fond farewell. Finding the weather favourable, the ship’s crew put on full sail, and for several days after leaving Alexandria the voyage was prosperous. But one day, when they had passed Sardinia and were looking forward to journey’s end, they ran into a series of sudden squalls, each of which was exceptionally violent, and these gave the ship such a terrible buffeting that passengers and crew were convinced time and again that the end had come. But they had plenty of spirit, and by exerting all their skill and energy they survived the onslaught of the mountainous seas for two whole days. However, as night approached for the third time since the beginning of the storm, which showed no sign of relenting but on the contrary was increasing in fury, they felt the ship foundering. Though in fact they were not far from the coast of Majorca, they had no idea where they were, because it was a dark night and the sky was covered with thick black clouds, and hence it was impossible to estimate their position either with the ship’s instruments or with the naked eye. It now became a case of every man for himself, and there was nothing for it but to launch a longboat, into which the ship’s officers leapt, preferring to put their trust in that rather than in the crippled vessel. But they had no sooner abandoned ship than every man aboard followed their example and leapt into the longboat, undeterred by the fact that the earlier arrivals were fighting them off with knives in their hands.