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 Crazy Brave (2012)

  My mother remembers wandering far to gather firewood. It was record-breaking cold that winter and most of the wood nearby had been picked off. To keep warm, the family blocked off most of the rest of the house and stayed in the room with the fireplace. Every night the ghosts of the house would assemble for the party upstairs. My mother said she’d hear the tinkling keys of an old-time piano. Then she would hear the shuffle and slap of the deal of the cards, and the sighs and exclamations of the card players. The same party went on every night. The voices would start at a low, conversational rumble and then build as the night went on and they had more to drink, until a fight would break out. Then someone would fire a gunshot, and then the family would hear the strange bump of a dead body being dragged down the stairs. My mother said it terrified her, no matter how many times it happened. In one story that hides out in the corner of family memory, a man comes home from working on the railroad all winter. It was a rough winter made by swinging a hammer through wind, ice, and rain. He carefully saves money for his family, though he does succumb to a few trips into town to gamble and drink with his friends, to see a woman. He’s not a drinker or gambler by nature. He can take it or leave it. He has seven children at home. When he returns with enough cash to rent a place, buy new shoes for everyone and food, he discovers his wife is pregnant with a baby that is not his child. He beats her in a rage. She miscarries the child. Then he drags her into the path of an oncoming train and holds her there. The children watch in horror as their parents struggle on the tracks. As the train bears down on them, their father pushes their mother off the tracks and leaps away at the last possible second. They all go home. They continue to live as if the story never happened. I remember following my mother about the house as she got ready to go out with my father for the night. I’d admire the red satin, the black velvet fabric, and the patterns of sequins of her party clothes as she bathed and dressed. I’d perch on the edge of the bathtub as she relaxed and soaked in a bubble bath, careful not to elbow her ashtray into the water. I’d try on her heels and pretend to be her. I knew she was beautiful to others. I kept track of every small increment of information as I watched my parents to gauge the emotional atmosphere of the house, to calculate what might happen. Then I’d follow her as she dried, applied lotion, and dressed. I helped as she slipped on each layer, including the requisite girdle.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Buffalmacco, who was tall in stature and sturdy as an ox, had procured one of the masks that people used to wear at those special festivals that are nowadays no longer held;22 and having donned a coat of black fur, he got himself up to look exactly like a bear, except that his mask had the face of the devil and was furnished with horns. In this strange garb, with Bruno following at a safe distance in order to observe the proceedings, he made his way to the new piazza at Santa Maria Novella. And no sooner did he perceive that the learned doctor was there than he began to dance and leap all over the piazza, hissing, screaming and shrieking like one possessed. When the Master saw and heard all this, every hair of his head stood on end and he began to tremble all over, just like a woman, except that he was far more frightened. He began to think he should have stayed at home, but now that he had come so far, he tried to put a bold face upon it, such was his eagerness to observe the marvels of which the two men had spoken. After cavorting madly for some little time in the manner we have described, Buffalmacco appeared to calm down, and coming over to the tomb on which the Master was seated, he stopped and stood perfectly still. Being terrified out of his wits, the Master could not decide whether to mount the creature or remain where he was, but in the end, fearing lest the thing should attack him if he failed to climb on to its back, he chose the lesser of the two evils; and having clambered down from the tomb, he leapt on the creature’s back, whispering ‘God preserve me’ as he did so. Once he was firmly seated, still trembling like a leaf, he folded his arms across his chest as instructed, whereupon Buffalmacco moved slowly off on all fours in the direction of Santa Maria della Scala, and carried him almost as far as the nunnery of Ripole.23 Now at that time there were some ditches in those parts into which the farmers used to pour the offerings of the Countess of Cesspool, to enrich their lands. And when Buffalmacco reached this spot, he ambled up to the edge of one of the ditches, and, choosing the right moment, grabbed one of the doctor’s feet and heaved him smartly off his back, casting him head first into the ditch. He then began to snarl in a most terrifying manner, leaping frantically all over the place, and eventually made his way back past Santa Maria della Scala towards the meadow of Ognissanti, where he rejoined Bruno who had run away because he was unable to contain his laughter. And hugging one another with glee, they went and watched from a safe distance to see what the filth-bespattered doctor would do.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  The man could have told her he would cut her up like a rabbit. Or at some other time she could have been frightened by seeing, or even reading about, a rabbit being cut open. Her felt sense may have suggested the image as a metaphor for how she felt. The image does certainly convey the sense of horror a young child might have experienced in such a situation. What really happened is that Margaret, as an adult, was able to follow the creative dictates of her organism. Her consciousness shifted between images that evoked the horror she experienced as a child (the trauma vortex) and other images that allowed her to expand and heal (the healing vortex). By staying in touch with the sensations that accompanied these images, Margaret allowed her organism to experience a rhythmic pulsation between these vortices that helped her synthesize a new reality while discharging and healing her traumatic reaction. Through the guiding languages of felt sensation, Margaret was able to renegotiate the terror that had persisted in her neck and abdomen for decades following this horrific event. The healing was orchestrated by the transformative relationship between the healing and trauma vortices. Before learning the ways of the felt sense, most people respond to the emergence of the healing vortex and the positive sensations that come with it by squelching or ignoring the m by avoiding them. Healing images can be disconcerting when we are fixated on terrifying visions. In our zeal to recover more of the “memory” of what happened, we suppress the expansion that the nervous system so desperately seeks and plunge head on into the trauma vortex. The secret to Margaret’s healing was that she did not do this. When the image of the leaves came, she went with the feelings associated with it fully and completely and moved away from the horrible feelings of being tied to the tree and terrorized. The leaves (associated with the healing vortex) allowed her to face the deepest parts of her trauma without being overwhelmed. As a result, she transformed herself into a more integrated, resourceful person. Renegotiation and Re-enactment About five months before arrival at Jupiter, Galileo’s probe is to separate from the mothership. This maneuver must aim the probe precisely since it has no navigation or propulsion systems...As it plummets toward the planet fast enough to go from Los Angeles to Washington in 90 seconds, a wrong entry could send it skipping off the tip of Jupiter’s atmosphere and careening into space or burning to a cinder (if it enters Jupiter’s atmosphere too directly). — Science Section, International Herald Tribune October 12, 1989, by Kathy Sawyer

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  The human immobility response does not easily resolve itself because the supercharged energy locked in the nervous system is imprisoned by the emotions of fear and terror. The result is that a vicious cycle of fear and immobility takes over, preventing the response from completing naturally. When not allowed to complete, these responses form the symptoms of trauma. Just as terror and rage figured in the onset of the freezing response, they will now contribute greatly to its maintenanc e - even though there is no longer any actual threat present. When a pigeon is quietly approached from behind (perhaps as it pecks on some grains) and is picked up gently, the bird freezes. If it is turned upside down, it will remain frozen in that position with its feet in the air for several minutes. When it comes out of this trance-like state, it will right itself and hop or fly away as though nothing had happened. However, if the pigeon is first frightened by an approaching person, it will struggle to escape. If it is caught after a frantic pursuit and held down forcibly, it will also succumb to immobilit y - but the terrified bird will remain frozen much longer than in the first scenario. When it comes out of its trance, it will be in a state of frantic excitability. It may thrash about wildly, pecking at almost any possible target, or fly away in a frenzy of uncoordinated movement. Fear greatly enhances and extends (i.e., potentiates) immobility. It also makes the mobilization process a fearful event. “As They Go In, So They Come Out” If we are highly activated and terrified upon entering the immobility state, we will move out of it in a similar manner. “As they go in, so they come out” is an expression that Army M.A.S.H. medics use when speaking of injured soldiers. If a soldier goes into surgery feeling terror and panic, he may abruptly come out of anaesthesia in a state of frantic disorientation. Biologically, he is reacting like the animal fighting for its life after it has been frightened and captured. The impulse to attack in frantic rage, or to attempt a frantic escape is biologically appropriate. When captured prey come out of immobility, their survival may depend on violent aggression if the predator is still present. Similarly, when women who have been raped begin to come out of shock (frequently, months or even years later), they often have the impulse to kill their assailants. In some instances, they may have the opportunity to carry this action through. Some of these women have been tried and sentenced for “pre-meditated” murder because the time lapse was viewed as premeditation.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  But one morning when they arrived at the church, the monstrance was not above the high altar. The altar had just been garnished and swept, so the Host was still in the Lady Chapel. And while they stood there and gazed at the Host, came a priest and with him a grey-haired server; they would bear their God back again to His home, to the costly shrine of His endless vigil. The server must first light his little lantern suspended from a pole, and must then grasp his bell. The priest must lift his Lord from the monstrance and lay Him upon a silken cover, and carry Him as a man carries a child—protectively, gently, yet strongly withal, as though some frustrated paternal instinct were finding in this a divine expression. The lantern swung rhythmically to and fro, the bell rang out its imperative warning; then the careful priest followed after the server who cleared his path to the great high altar. And even as once very long ago, such a bell had been the herald of death in the putrefying hand of the leper: ‘Unclean! Unclean!’ death and putrefaction—the warning bell in the dreadful hand that might never again know the clasp of the healthful—so now the bell rang out the approach of supreme purity, of the Healer of lepers, earth-bound through compassion; but compassion so vast, so urgent, that the small, white disc of the Host must contain the whole suffering universe. Thus the Prisoner of love Who could never break free while one spiritual leper remained to be healed, passed by on His patient way, heavy-laden. Wanda suddenly fell to her knees, striking her lean and unfruitful breast, for as always she very shamefully feared, and her fear was a bitter and most deadly insult. With downcast eyes and trembling hands she cowered at the sight of her own salvation. But Stephen stood upright and curiously still, staring into the empty Lady Chapel. CHAPTER 481T hat spring they made their first real acquaintance with the garish and tragic night life of Paris that lies open to such people as Stephen Gordon.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  For I maintain that if one conducts one’s life virtuously, there is no reason to be afraid of any dream that encourages one to behave differently or to abandon one’s good intentions because of it: and if one harbours perverse and wicked intentions, however much one’s dreams appear favourable to these and encourage one to pursue them by presenting auspicious omens, none of them should be believed, whilst full credence should be given to those which predict the opposite. But let us turn now to the story. In the city of Brescia there once lived a nobleman called Messer Negro da Pontecarraro. He had several children, including a daughter whose name was Andreuola, and although she was an exceedingly beautiful young woman, she was as yet unmarried. Andreuola chanced to fall in love with a neighbour of hers called Gabriotto, a man of low estate but full of admirable qualities, as well as being handsome and pleasing in appearance. Aided and abetted by her maidservant, the girl not only succeeded in apprising Gabriotto of her love but had him conveyed regularly into a beautiful garden in the grounds of her father’s house, to the mutual joy of the two parties concerned. And so that this delectable love of theirs should never be torn asunder save by the hand of death, they secretly became husband and wife. They continued to make love by this furtive means until one night, as she lay asleep, the girl had a dream in which she seemed to see herself in the garden with Gabriotto, giving and getting intense pleasure as she held him in her arms: and whilst they were thus occupied, she seemed to see a dark and terrible thing issuing from his body, the form of which she could not make out. The thing appeared to take hold of Gabriotto, and, by exerting some miraculous force, to tear him away from her despite all she could do to prevent it. It then vanished below ground, taking him with it, and they never set eyes upon one another again. Her sorrow was so intense that it woke her up, and although, now that she was awake, she felt relieved that she had merely been imagining all this, she was nevertheless filled with terror because of the dreadful things she had dreamt about. And for this reason, knowing that Gabriotto was anxious to visit her that evening, she did everything in her power to ensure that he stayed away. The following night, however, seeing that he was determined to come, she received him in the garden as usual. The roses were in flower, and she plucked a large number, some red and others white, 1 before going to join him at the edge of a magnificent, crystal-clear fountain situated in the garden.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Reversing the effects of either denial or amnesia takes a great deal of courage. The amount of energy that is released when this happens can be tremendous and should not be minimized or underestimated. It is a time of great significance for the traumatized person. Gladys Gladys’ story may seem ludicrous, but it is true and well within the range of experience that one might expect with typical denial. The process of coming out of denial or amnesia can be facilitated by the support of family, friends, and therapists, but the proper time for this awakening is purely a biological and physiological matter. Gladys was referred to me by her doctor, who was treating her for thyroid problems. The internist had been unable to ascertain a physical reason for her recurring attacks of acute abdominal pain. Upon meeting her for the first time, I was struck by her intense, fearful, open-eyed appearance. Her eyes seemed to pop out of her head, a classic indicator not only of hyperthyroidism, but also of fear and chronic hypervigilance. I asked her whether she felt fearful or had ever experienced trauma. She told me that she had not. Knowing that people sometimes deny trauma, I rephrased my question and asked her whether she had experienced anything that was especially frightening or upsetting in the last five years. Again, she answered no. In an attempt to increase her comfort, I commented that a recent study had found that a large percentage of the population had experienced something frightening within the last five years. “Oh, really,” she responded. “Well, I was kidnapped a few years ago. But it wasn’t that frightening.” “Not even a little?” “No, not really.” “What happened?” “Well, I was skiing in Colorado with some friends and we were supposed to go out to dinner. A man drove up, opened his door, and I got in. But he didn’t go to the restaurant.” “Were you scared then?” “No, it was a ski weekend.” “Where did he go?” “He took me to his house.” “Weren’t you scared when he didn’t go to the restaurant and took you to his house instead?” “No, I didn’t know why he was taking me there.” “Oh. Well, what happened then?” “He tied me up to his bed.” “Was that scary?” “No, nothing really happened. He just threatened me. Well, maybe I was scared a little bit. He had all kinds of knives and guns hanging on his walls.” “But you weren’t really scared?” “No, nothing happened.” Gladys left that day with an outwardly calm de-meanor. Her claim that she had not been frightened during the kidnapping or at any other time still dominated her experience. She did not return.

• From Crazy Brave (2012)

  I was free. Free. Free. I carried that dream back through several layers of consciousness, to where I stood in the future, with a stack of poems and a saxophone in my hands. That night I wrote this poem. It is one of my first poems. I release you, my beautiful and terrible fear. I release you. You were my beloved and hated twin, but now, I don’t know you as myself. I release you with all the pain I would know at the death of my children. You are not my blood anymore. I give you back to the soldiers who burned down my home, beheaded my children, raped and sodomized my brothers and sisters. I give you back to those who stole the food from our plates when we were starving. I release you, fear, because you hold these scenes in front of me and I was born with eyes that can never close. I release you I release you I release you I release you I am not afraid to be angry. I am not afraid to rejoice. I am not afraid to be black. I am not afraid to be white. I am not afraid to be hungry. I am not afraid to be full. I am not afraid to be hated. I am not afraid to be loved. To be loved, to be loved, fear. Oh, you have choked me, but I gave you the leash. You have gutted me, but I gave you the knife. You have devoured me, but I laid myself across the fire. I take myself back, fear. You are not my shadow any longer. I won’t hold you in my hands. You can’t live in my eyes, my ears, my voice my belly, or in my heart my heart my heart my heart But come here, fear I am alive and you are so afraid of dying. It was the spirit of poetry who reached out and found me as I stood there at the doorway between panic and love. There are many such doorways in our lives. Some are small and hidden in the ordinary. Others are gaping and obvious, like the car wreck we walk away from, meeting someone and falling in love, or an earthquake followed by a tsunami. When we walk through them to the other side, everything changes. I had come this far without the elegance of speech. I didn’t have the physical handicap of stuttering, but I could not speak coherently. I stuttered in my mind. I could not express my perception of the sacred. I could speak everyday language: Please pass the salt. I would like . . . When are we going . . . I’ll meet you there. I wanted the intricate and metaphorical language of my ancestors to pass through to my language, my life.

• From The World of Biblical Israel (2013)

  102 Lecture 14: Life under Siege • The officials read aloud a letter from Sennacherib. The letter is a skillfully crafted piece of propaganda meant as much for the inhabitants of Jerusalem as it is for Hezekiah. Sennacherib asks Hezekiah about the source of his confidence for rebelling against Assyria. He then lists and refutes all the likely arguments circulating in Jerusalem about how Judah might triumph over Assyria. • Hezekiah’s palace representatives immediately realize the danger of the Rab Shakeh’s words, and they beg him to speak in Aramaic, a diplomatic language not understood by the citizens of the city. But the Rab Shakeh then directly addresses the residents of Jerusalem in their own language. He warns them about the horrors of a siege but promises that by making peace with Sennacherib, they can enjoy prosperity, safety, and stability. Biblical Version of Sennacherib’s Attack • In trying to determine what actually happened in Sennacherib’s campaign, we must examine multiple accounts. Our sources include the Bible, Sennacherib’s royal inscriptions and carved wall panels in his palace, and the Babylonian Chronicles. Remarkably, these sources agree on several details: o Jerusalem was not destroyed. Sennacherib and his forces did not enter Jerusalem. o Sennacherib returned to Assyria shortly after conquering the cities of Judah, including Lachish. o Hezekiah paid heavy tribute to Sennacherib. o Sennacherib was murdered by his own sons. • The biblical version of the story credits the Israelite god with the survival of Jerusalem. o In two trips to the temple, Isaiah tells Hezekiah that Sennacherib will not succeed against Jerusalem. In the second trip, the Lord’s answer to Hezekiah is given in the form of a

• From The World of Biblical Israel (2013)

  101 The Horrors of Siege • Even before Sennacherib arrived in Judah, it’s likely that Judeans had an idea of the horrors associated with living in a city under siege. These horrors would form the basis for an Assyrian campaign of psychological warfare that would encourage soldiers and villagers alike to surrender without a fight. o The standard language of cursing included references to siege. Deuteronomy, for example, closes its covenantal section with a series of curses uttered against anyone “who does not obey the voice of the Lord your God” (Deut. 28:15). Among the many horrible fates that will befall this disobedient person, we read, “In the desperate straits to which the enemy siege reduces you, you will eat the fruit of your womb, the flesh of your own sons and daughters” (Deut. 28:53). o When the biblical character Job is in the midst of his greatest distress, having lost everything, he imagines that God has walled up his way and broken him down on every side. He tells his friends that the troops of God have “thrown up siege- works” against him (Job 19:8–12). • The Judeans’ actual experience with Assyria would also lead to dread. The prophet Isaiah describes the army of the nation that would conquer Israel: “Their arrows are sharp, all their bows bent, their horses’ hoofs seem like flint and their wheels like the whirlwind. Their roaring is like a lion” (Isa. 5:28–29). This description closely matches the Assyrians’ own carefully crafted self-image carved onto the walls of their palaces. Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah • To avoid an immediate attack by Sennacherib, the biblical account indicates that Hezekiah paid a tribute of silver and gold that he had stripped from the temple and palace. • Sennacherib then sent two of his officials, the Rabsaris and the Rab Shakeh, to Jerusalem. Hezekiah sends his representatives to meet with Sennacherib’s officials.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Remembering Antigono’s instructions to the tiniest detail, the lady then addressed her father as follows: ‘Father, some twenty days after my departure, our ship was disabled by a raging tempest, and ran aground at night on the shores of the western Mediterranean, near a place called Aigues-mortes. 14 I never discovered what happened to all the men who were in the ship. All I can remember is that when the dawn arrived, I truly felt as if I was rising from the dead. The local people had already espied the wreck, and they came running from miles around in order to plunder it. I was put ashore with two of my maidservants, who were instantly snatched by young men and carried off in different directions, and that was the last I saw or heard of them. I myself, after putting up stout resistance, was overpowered by two young men and hauled away by my tresses, weeping bitterly all the time. But just as they were crossing a road in order to drag me into a thick forest, four men happened to pass that way on horseback, and when my captors saw them coming, they instantly let me go and took to their heels. ‘On seeing this, the four men, who to judge from their appearance seemed to hold positions of authority, rode swiftly up and asked me a lot of questions, to which I gave as many answers. But it was impossible to make ourselves understood. After talking together for some little while, they took me up on one of their horses and conducted me to a convent of nuns who practised these men’s religion. I do not know what it was that they said to the nuns, but at any rate I was kindly received by everybody, and I was always treated with great respect. Whilst there, I joined them in the reverent worship of Saint Stiffen-in- the-Hollows, to whom the women of that country are deeply devoted. But after staying with them for some time, and acquiring a discreet knowledge of their language, I was asked who I was and where I had come from. Knowing where I was, I feared to tell them the truth lest they should expel me as an enemy of their religion, and so I replied that I was the daughter of a fine nobleman of Cyprus, who was sending me to be married in Crete when we were driven by a storm on to those shores and shipwrecked. ‘For fear of meeting a worse fate, I imitated their customs regularly, in various ways. Eventually, I was asked by the oldest of these women, whom the others refer to as the Abbess, whether I wished to return to Cyprus, and I replied that there was nothing I desired more.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Bob was able to respond to the crisis and remain actively mobilized throughout the escape. Even though the other children escaped with him, many of them seemed to experience more fear in escaping their entombment. If they had not been urged strongly to flee, they would have remained ther e- helpless. Moving like zombies, they had to be ushered out to freedom. This passivity is similar to the behavior noted by military teams that specialize in the freeing of hostages. It is called the “Stockholm syndrome.” Often, hostages will not move unless repeatedly commanded to do so. The Mystery of Trauma By bringing the other children to freedom, Bob Barklay successfully met an extraordinary challenge. On that day at Chowchilla he was unquestionably a hero. However, what is more significant for his life, and for anyone interested in trauma, is that he emerged without the same degree of debilitating traumatic aftereffects as did the other twenty-five children. He was able to stay in motion and flow through the immobility response that completely overwhelmed and incapacitated the others. Some were so frightened that their fear continued to overwhelm and immobilize them long after the actual danger had passed. This is a theme present in traumatized people. They are unable to overcome the anxiety of their experience. They remain overwhelmed by the event, defeated and terrified. Virtually imprisoned by their fear, they are unable to re-engage in life. Others who experience similar events may have no enduring symptoms at all. Trauma affects some of us in mysterious ways. This is one of them. No matter how frightening an event may seem, not everyone who experiences it will be traumatized. Why do some people, like Bob Barklay, successfully meet such challenges while others, who seem no less intelligent or capable, become completely debilitated? Of greater import, what are the implications concerning those of us who are already debilitated from prior traumas? Waking the Tiger: A First Glimmering Trauma was a complete mystery to me when I first began working with it. My first major breakthrough in understanding came quite unexpectedly in 1969 when I was asked to see a woman, Nancy, who was suffering from intense panic attacks. The attacks were so severe that she was unable to leave her house alone. She was referred to me by a psychiatrist who knew of my interest in body/mind approaches to healing (a fledgling and obscure field at that time). He thought that some kind of relaxation training might be helpful. Relaxation was not the answer. In our first session, as I naively, and with the best of intentions, attempted to help her relax, she went into a full-blown anxiety attack. She appeared paralyzed and unable to breathe. Her heart was pounding wildly, and then seemed to almost stop. I became quite frightened. Had I paved the yellow brick road to hell? We entered together into her nightmarish attack.

• From Crazy Brave (2012)

  I hadn’t had the fish long before I began to realize it was too large for the depth of the bowl. It kept flipping itself out. One afternoon I accidentally stepped on the fish as I tried to capture it and return it to water. It flattened and bled. I carefully picked it up and returned it to the water. The fish floated on its side, nearly dead. I began to pray. I went deep into prayer for the life of this fish. I felt my heart open and the heart of the fish open. I felt at peace. I took a break to sweep. When I returned, the fish had righted itself and was swimming in healthy circles around the bowl. In that small moment, I felt the presence of the sacred, a force as real and apparent as anything else in the world, present and alive, as if it were breathing. I wanted to catch hold, to remember utterly and never forget. But the current of hard reality reasserted itself. I had to have the house cleaned just right or my stepfather would punish me. So I continued on my path of forgetfulness. One night my mother was still working and my stepfather was out bowling or at an Elks club meeting. We had a babysitter who was watching television in the living room. A light brighter than any light I’d ever seen appeared at the head of my bed. It grew larger and larger, and as it grew it terrified me. It was not evil, like the darkness that plagued the house and our family. The light was beautiful. Even so, I called out fearfully. The babysitter came running and turned on the yellowish bedroom light. The white light disappeared. I tried to explain what I had seen, but there were no words, just as words stumble inadequately now. She told me to get to sleep and clicked off the room light. I lay there and wondered at what I had seen. I wanted it to come back, yet I was fearful of its returning and lay there with the covers pulled up to eye level. When I was ten, my mother and I stayed up to monitor Hurricane Carla. It took a rare path, tearing up the entire coastline of Texas before heading north to Tulsa. My stepfather was out for the evening. I inwardly rejoiced that my mother and I had a rare evening alone. The atmosphere of the storm was a huge aura of whirling particles. It stirred up danger in us. We walked through the house, checking doors and windows. The younger children were all in bed, sleeping. We sat together and listened as the winds began slamming the city. We knew about tornadoes. They were quirky and strange creatures. I had watched one descend from a bruised sky, approach our neighborhood.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Keep the child quiet and still. If the injury requires immediate movement, support or carry the child, even if he/she appears capable of moving on his/her own. Children who make great efforts to show their strength often do so to deny the fear they are feeling. If you sense that the child is cold, gently drape a sweater or blanket over his/her shoulders and trunk. Encourage (insist, if necessary) the child to take sufficient time to rest in a safe place. This is of particular importance if you notice signs of shock or dazedness (glazed eyes, pale complexion, rapid or shallow breathing, trembling, disorientation, a sense of being somewhere else). If the child’s demeanor is excessively emotional or overly calm (before the storm), rest is very important. You can help the child settle down by being relaxed, quiet, and still yourself. If hugging or holding seem appropriate, do so in a gentle, non-restricting way. A gentle placement of your hand in the center of the back, behind the heart, can communicate support and reassurance without interfering with the child’s natural bodily responses. Excessive patting or rocking can interrupt the recovery process (similar to the over-zealous child who, with good intentions, mishandles a wounded bird). As the dazed look begins to wear off, carefully guide the child’s attention to his/her sensations. In a soft voice, ask, “What do you feel in your body?” Slowly and quietly, repeat the answers you’re given in the form of a questio n ”You feel bad in your body? ” then wait for a nod or other response. You can be more specific with your next question: “Where do you feel that bad feeling?” (let the child show you). If the child points to a specific place, ask, “How do you feel in your tummy (head, arm, leg, etc.)?” If the child reports a distinct sensation, gently inquire about its exact location, size, shape, color, weight, and other characteristics. Gently guide the child to the present moment (i.e., “How does the lump (owie, scrape, burn, etc.) feel now?” Allow a moment or two of silence between questions. This will permit the completion of any cycle that the child is moving through without the distraction of another question. If you are uncertain whether the cycle has been completed, wait for the child to give you cues (a deep relaxed breath, the cessation of crying or trembling, a stretch, a smile, the making or breaking of eye contact). The completion of this cycle may not mean that the recovery process is over. Another cycle may follow. Keep the child focused on sensations for a few more minutes just to make sure the process is complete. Do not stir up discussion about the accident. There will be plenty of time later for telling stories about it, playing it through, or drawing pictures of it. Now is the time for discharge and rest.

• From Crazy Brave (2012)

  One night I woke up to a scuffle in the living room. My mother had just come in from her weekly date of playing shuffleboard at the bar with her girlfriends. I heard my stepfather grilling her. I heard my mother protesting and weeping. My sister slept peacefully beside me. I wondered if they heard anything. “Who were you with?” my stepfather demanded. “I was partying with my girlfriends. You know I don’t have anyone else.” “If you want to party, we’ll have a party right here.” I wound tighter, ready to leap to save her. I heard him methodically popping open beers with a church key, one after another, and pouring beer down her throat and over her clothes. I heard ripping. My mother kept saying it wouldn’t happen again. Then it was quiet. It was quiet until dawn, and then I got up for school.

• From Crazy Brave (2012)

  I was dying even as I was being born. This continues to be a theme in my life, this struggle with transitions: between night and day, here and there, desert and water, earth and sky, and beginnings and endings. As I was being born, I had the same dying, gulping breaths as my father’s last breaths when he died several years later, in a small Texas town near the water. We are linked by water and fire. My father and I surfaced in an ancient memory once when I was in my thirties. We lived by the water near a volcano. We who lived there had a long relationship with the spirit of the volcano. Our behavior broke the trust. We littered the land with trash and discord. We forgot to acknowledge the gifts. The volcano mountain blew with a terrible pressure. The earth rocked and fell open. Lava the color of fiery blood streamed toward us. Fire and ash rained down. We panicked for air. The man who was now my father and I stumbled to the sea with our lungs on fire. I was his companion, friend, not the daughter I was to be in this life, this story. Many others rushed toward the sea to get away from the raining fire. We fell into a boat docked near shore, as did many others, more than the boat could carry. We attempted to move away from the falling ash, into the ocean, which was moving oddly in the disturbance. Hundreds were jumping into the water, clinging to the boat. I lost earth consciousness. One version of the Mvskoke creation story begins with a volcano. It marked our journey from a place in the west. Sam Proctor, the helis heya or medicine maker of my tribal town, told me that in that time seven Hawaiian canoes came to shore. Those people became part of us. We walked east to more stable lands. A compassionate fire appeared before us to guide us. We made it to what is now known as the southeastern part of the United States. Someone accompanies every soul from the other side when it enters this place. Usually it is an ancestor with whom that child shares traits and gifts. My guardian remains, and reminds me of those older generations of Creek people who stayed close to the teachings, like my cousin John Jacobs of Holdenville, my beloved aunt Lois Harjo Ball, and George and Stella Coser, Sr. They speak softly, with kindness. They are quick with humor, and keep an open path. They have been tested with suffering and have responded with wisdom rather than bitterness. They teach by story, images, and songs. And they are respectful to mystery. They continue to remind me that it is best to walk this earthly path with vnektckv , compassion. All I have to do is remember them, and they stand in memory in a kind light.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  To his amazement, the same heretical opinions broke out in Valladolid and Sevilla, at the very court and around the throne of Spain. Augustin Cazalla,331 who had accompanied him as chaplain in the Smalkaldian war, and had preached before him at Yuste, professed Lutheran sentiments. Charles felt that Spain was in danger, and repeatedly urged the most vigorous measures for the extermination of heresy with fire and sword. "Tell the Grand Inquisitor, from me," he wrote to his daughter Joanna, the regent, on the 3d of May, 1558, "to be at his post, and to lay the ax at the root of the evil before it spreads farther. I rely on your zeal for bringing the guilty to punishment with all the severity which their crimes demand." In the last codicil to his will, he conjures his son Philip to cherish the Holy Inquisition as the best instrument for the suppression of heresy in his dominions. "So," he concludes, "shall you have my blessing, and the Lord shall prosper all your undertakings."332 Philip II., who inherited the vices but none of the virtues of his father, faithfully carried out this dying request, and by a terrible system of persecution crushed out every trace of evangelical Protestantism in Spain, and turned that beautiful country into a graveyard adorned by somber cathedrals, and disfigured by bull-rings. His Death. The Emperor’s health failed rapidly in consequence of a new attack of gout, and the excessive heat of the summer, which cost the life of several of his Flemish companions. He died Sept. 21, 1558, a consistent Catholic as be had lived. A few of his spiritual and secular friends surrounded his death-bed. He confessed with deep contrition his sins; prayed repeatedly for the unity of the Church; received, kneeling in his bed, the holy communion and the extreme unction; and placed his hope on the crucified Redeemer. The Archbishop of Toledo, Bartolomé de Carranza, read the one hundred and thirtieth Psalm, and, holding up a crucifix, said: "Behold Him who answers for all. There is no more sin; all is forgiven;" while another of his preachers commended him to the intercession of saints, namely, St. Matthew, on whose day he was born, and St. Matthias, on whose day he was in a few moments to leave this world. "Thus," says Mignet, "the two doctrines which divided the world in the age of Charles V. were once more brought before him on the bed of death."

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Luther appreciated the merits of Erasmus, and frankly acknowledged his literary superiority.540 But he knew his weakness, and expressed, as early as 1516, the fear that he understood too little of the grace of God.541 He found in his writings more refutation of error than demonstration of truth, more love of peace than love of the cross. He hated his way of insinuating doubts. On June 20, 1523, he wrote to Oecolampadius:542 "May the Lord strengthen you in your proposed explanation of Isaiah [in the University of Basel], although Erasmus, as I understand, does not like it .... He has done what he was ordained to do: he has introduced the ancient languages, in the place of injurious scholastic studies. He will probably die like Moses in the land of Moab. He does not lead to better studies which teach piety. I would rather he would entirely abstain from explaining and paraphrasing the Scriptures, for he is not up to this work .... He has done enough to uncover the evil; but to reveal the good and to lead into the land of promise, is not his business, in my opinion." In a letter to Erasmus, dated April, 1524, a few months before the open breach, he proposed to him that they should let each other alone, and apologized for his subserviency to the papists, and his want of courage, in a manner which could not but wound the sensitive scholar.543 Luther on the Slavery of the Human Will.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  (b) In the later writings of the Old Testament, especially during and after the exile, the doctrine of immortality and resurrection comes out plainly.1112 Daniel’s vision reaches out even to the final resurrection of "many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth to everlasting life," and of "some to shame and everlasting contempt," and prophesies that "they that are wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars forever and ever."1113 But before Christ, who first revealed true life, the Hebrew Sheol, the general receptacle of departing souls, remained, like the Greek Hades, a dark and dreary abode, and is so described in the Old Testament.1114 Cases like Enoch’s translation and Elijah’s ascent are altogether unique and exceptional, and imply the meaning that death is contrary to man’s original destination, and may be overcome by the power of holiness. (c) The Jewish Apocrypha (the Book of Wisdom, and the Second Book of Maccabees), and later Jewish writings (the Book of Enoch, the Apocalypse of Ezra) show some progress: they distinguish between two regions in Sheol—Paradise or Abraham’s Bosom for the righteous, and Gehinnom or Gehenna for the wicked; they emphasize the resurrection of the body, and the future rewards and punishments. (d) The Talmud adds various fanciful embellishments. It puts Paradise and Gehenna in close proximity, measures their extent, and distinguishes different departments in both corresponding to the degrees of merit and guilt. Paradise is sixty times as large as the world, and Hell sixty times as large as Paradise, for the bad preponderate here and hereafter. According to other rabbinical testimonies, both are well nigh boundless. The Talmudic descriptions of Paradise (as those of the Koran) mix sensual and spiritual delights. The righteous enjoy the vision of the Shechina and feast with the patriarchs, and with Moses and David of the flesh of leviathan, and drink wine from the cup of salvation. Each inhabitant has a house according to his merit. Among the punishments of hell the chief place is assigned to fire, which is renewed every week after the Sabbath. The wicked are boiled like the flesh in the pot, but the bad Israelites are not touched by fire, and are otherwise tormented. The severest punishment is reserved for idolaters, hypocrites, traitors, and apostates. As to the duration of future punishment the school of Shammai held that it was everlasting; while the school of Hillel inclined to the milder view of a possible redemption after repentance and purification. Some Rabbis taught that hell will cease, and that the sun will burn up and annihilate the wicked.1115 3.

• From The World of Biblical Israel (2013)

  123 • We have few primary source materials that can tell us what life was like for the exiles in Babylonia. Instead, we find snippets of information that give us hints about exilic life. o The exiles were settled in villages near the city of Nippur along the Chebar River, an offshoot of the Euphrates. The names of these villages suggest that they may have been ruins of former cities. o Prophets who wrote during the exile described the exilic experience as a “yoke” they were forced to bear. When Jeremiah predicts the Israelite god’s rescue of the exiles, his language evokes servitude: “I will break the yoke from off their neck, and I will burst their bonds, and strangers shall no more make servants of them” (Jer. 30:8). o Nebuchadrezzar’s records list by name some of the Judean exiles from the first wave in 597. Significantly, these men included artisans and a gardener, people with skills that Babylonia could put to work. o Additional Babylonian records indicate that exiles as a whole, not the Judeans in particular, were used as forced labor in massive building projects. • In addition to these details that suggest the difficulty of life in exile, there are other factors that point to the gradual adaptation of the Judeans to their new lives in Babylonia. Still other details point to Jeremiah’s letter to the exiles proved accurate: They would put down roots in their new land for a period of 70 years before being rescued by the Israelite god. © Getty Images/Photos.com/Thinkstock.