Transcript: Episode 6
6. Chicken Rescue
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[Short piano piece is played, lasting about 20 seconds]
I'm going to tell you a story. Those of you in the Community have already heard part of it. It's about the chickens. The other day we were working and all of a sudden we started hearing the children, the outside children screaming, “Mama, Mama, Mama.” And I didn't know what kind of disaster they were up to, but clearly things were escalating. So we went out to see what was going on, only to find out that a hawk had come and taken one of our baby chicks.
So, to rewind. For those who don't know, we have some chickens. They were given to us, food for the chickens was given to us, and mostly they just eat in the yard anyway. So they're not actually much expense to us because they free roam and then come into their coop at night. They're adorable, and we love them a lot more than we ever knew we would. But there were six chickens originally. And because I married someone who writes musicals, their names were George and Ira, Rodgers and Hammerstein, and Irving and Berlin. And early this summer we lost three of the chickens. It was horrible. A Hawk took the chicken in front of us. It was very traumatic for all of us, for the children and for us. And I just can't tell you how tragic and awful it was. And then two more were lost before the summer was over, in similar ways, we assume, because we found feathers, but we didn't see it happen.
Several months later, someone brought us six new baby chicks. So this time, the baby chicks that we have now who are now like almost tweenager chicks. So they're starting to look like chickens instead of just adorable little furry balls. And they are just now starting to come out of the coop by themselves a little bit. But because we've raised them since they were babies, we love them even more somehow, right? Very attached all of us to the baby chicks we've raised. And so this is double the trauma to see a hawk take off with one of the chicks.
So when the hawk came down-. So this is super traumatizing for everybody. But when the hawk came down and tried to take one of the chicks, all of the little baby chicks tried to like peck at it and tried to get away. But it did get one of the chicks and took off. But this was like the baby hawk, so like it's still a big hawk, but it's not as big as it’s parents. And so she was too small to take off very far with the baby chick who's now like a teenage chick, so maybe half the size of an adult chicken. So she was flying low. And when we saw her take off with the baby chick like something clicked inside of us, and I cannot even tell you what happened or how it happened, but we flew through the air. We took off, waving our arms, running after this chick. And it was like we were running in the air. Like, I can't even tell you. We live at the top of this hill, and we go all the way down our driveway and about half a mile down the road. And finally almost catch up with this chick and scare it. And it drops the chick. And I'm trying to catch up to the hawk because the hawk is going to come back. They drop her to break her little neck so that she won't be fighting them. And so I tried to get to the chick before the hawk can get to the chick. And I am screaming and waving my arms, and all the children are screaming behind me, following, trying to keep up. But when they drop the chick, all the kids stop. Like, I think they don't want to see the dead chicken. I am worried that it is a dead chick and that there's nothing we can do. It was all very tragic and traumatizing and just horrific in the cycle of life. I can't even tell you. And so, but I see where she has landed. And so I am running, I am booking it. I am running like I have never run before even in a 5k race back in the day. I am running to this baby chick. And right as I get there, the hawk scoops her up right in front of me. And so I chase that hawk down. I have a stick. I am screaming. I am waving. And I tried to get the chick. And I catch up enough to the hawk. Like, how can I run fast enough to catch up to the hawk? I don't even know how this is happening. But I catch up enough to the hawk that I scare her badly enough she drops the chick and flies away. I am able to rescue this little chick who very clearly looks very dead. And it is horrible. I can't tell you how horrible it is. Because now all the children are waiting for me to bring her back. And I'm like, there is no way this chicken is gonna make it. But she is still breathing. And I can see her pulse. And you don't want to know the details of either of those things. But I know it's a crisis. I know she's not likely to make it. But this is our baby chick.
And so I scooped her up into my shirt, and I am trying to walk back up the hill to the house, but I can barely breathe. I am trying to breathe. I am trying to keep the chicken breathing. I am trying to get the chicken and myself and all the children back up our hill to the house. And it is pure chaos. The children are crying. I am crying. The chick is in terrible shape. And we have to move quickly. Like, I don't even know what to do for her. My brain is somehow on autopilot. Knowing like chicken treatment? I don't know anything about chickens. And all of a sudden it's like, “We need to do this. And we need to do this. And go get this, and go get that.” And I'm giving instructions to the children and their children's scatter. And I'm holding this chick that is not doing well. And I put her under the faucet to rinse off the blood, and that's all I'm gonna say about that, but to clean her up enough that we can see where the damage actually is. The children find a box in the garage and take it to the back porch to put in some bedding. We use some pine shaving bedding. That smells amazing, by the way. I actually love the clean coop so much. It has a scent that is very specific. When it's clean, I mean, of course. And it reminds me of something, and we'll come back to that later. But they get the pine bedding and they put it in this box, and I lay the chicken down in this box on the bedding so that we can see what is going to happen with her and so that she can be comfortable. And you guys she is stretched out like roadkill. Like, her legs are flayed out in front of her, her neck is very clearly broken. I can't tell you how awful it was, clearly worse for her than for us. But it was very traumatic for us. All of us, outside children, everybody. It was very emotional, emotional moment.
And so we surround the chicken. We say a little prayer, we sing some songs. And then I'm like she's not gonna make it and so I tell everyone to kiss her goodbye. We decide that really the only thing we can do to help her is to leave her alone. Like if she's gonna heal, she needs to have the quiet and the space to be able to heal.
And so I take her into the kitchen. I know, I know, I know. I can't even. Don't think about it. But in the kitchen, in the back of the kitchen, away from all the food preparation areas, we have those indoor lights to grow vegetables and salads. And we have those because I cannot buy salad and vegetables fast enough to feed these children. So I have to keep it growing all the time. And so I squashed down a bed of salad to squeeze the box in under the lights. So we have her warm under the lights. And all of a sudden it's like this NICU bed that we've created. And so my youngest daughter runs to get her baby doll that has oxygen on it. I mean, not really oxygen, it's a canula. But we made it for her when she was a little girl. I mean, she's still a little girl. But when she was a baby, we made it for her so that she would have a doll that reflected her experience. So she pulls the canula off this baby doll, and we get her actual oxygen machine and plug in the pretend canula that—I mean it still works, I guess, but it's not for humans—and plug it into the actual oxygen machine. So that the canula is laying right next to the chicken and blowing air towards her face. So now we have the chicken on oxygen, under the lights, in fresh bedding, in a box, in my kitchen. This is what's happening in my life, people.
And so we just leave it. Like, everyone wants to see her. Everyone wants to check on her. But if they keep bothering her, I know she won't get better. They need to leave her alone. So I'm like, “Here's the thing. I promise that we will check on her in one hour, but we have to leave her alone so that she can heal or she doesn't even stand a chance.” And so I'm like, “Let's go back to our schoolwork. The hawks are clearly targeting our baby chicks, so let's get them all back in the coop so that they're safe, and move on with our day while she's healing. Because there's nothing else that we can do.”
But we go back in an hour, and she's still alive. And we go back the next hour and she's still alive. This chicken just keeps holding on. So we keep the oxygen on her. We keep her under the light. And I even go and get a Q-tip and put some medicine on her wounds. And when I do that, she opens her eyes for just a minute. And when I say her name, she opens her eye for just a minute. And so I am thinking, “this chicken wants to survive.” Like all of a sudden I'm getting invested in this chicken. And I'm like I think she really wants to pull through but I don't know that she can. And so we just keep going through the day, an hour at a time, an hour at a time. And I realize every time I say her name, she responds to me. So I go and I get a syringe from our G-tube supplies, and I can give her some Pedialyte and some water with this syringe. And so I'm giving her water and Pedialyte every hour. And she's under the light and has oxygen, in my kitchen, this is happening. And so that is how we get through this day.
And then when we go check her before bedtime, I let them all come in and say goodbye one more time. Because people if you saw this chicken, there is no way she was gonna make it until morning. So I'm like, “You have to say goodbye. We love her so much. We'll make sure she does not die alone. But you have to go to bed and the chickens gonna die.” Like, this is what I have to tell them, because nature, right? It just, this is how it works. But while we are there saying this, she like ruffles one of her wings and tucks her feet up under her. So all of a sudden, now she looks like a sleeping chicken, not a dead chicken. She tucks her little legs up under and she moves one wing kind of back into place where it's supposed to be. But she's clearly injured on the other side of her. But at this point I don't want to move her anymore, and so I just leave her be. And I think there is no way this chicken is going to be alive by morning.
But when I come in the next morning—before the children are awake because I don't want them to see a dead chicken in my kitchen—in the morning, when we go back in the kitchen, that chicken is still alive. And I was shocked that the chicken lived until morning. And so that day I spend like, trying to get her to eat a little bit, we put in some food, we give her a bowl of water. And she finally starts drinking water on her own by the end of that day. And by the next morning, she is trying to eat just a tiny bit. So I go and get her some worms, which if you don't have chickens, this is more information than you need to know and I'm so sorry. But the dried worms, like mealworms, I don't mean like wormy worms, because they're higher protein and I wanted to get protein in her. Because all of a sudden, I am obsessed with this chicken. And so we are trying to feed her and trying to get her to eat and using the syringe to back it up. But she's starting to do it a little bit.
So I have to clean her up again. So I have to rinse her off a bit. And while I'm moving her anyway, I'm able to feel her wing, and I don't think her wing is broken on the other side. And her legs, something is clearly not right with her leg, but I can't figure out what is wrong, and nothing exactly feels broken. But she's also not holding her head up correctly. And so I'm like, still, if her neck is broken, there's no way she's gonna live. And so I keep preparing the children that she's not going to live very long. And we keep praying and singing and doing all the things, right? We're taking care of this chicken. And so during the day while we do their schoolwork we leave her under the lights, and then we check on her at night, and all the things, you guys. All the things, people. All the things.
But then on the fourth morning, when we go in to check on her, she is sitting up. She's still not holding her head correctly, but she is sitting up, and I am just in shock. And by the end of that day, she's trying to stand up. And you can see something hurts, you can see she doesn't feel well, but she's trying to eat, she's trying to drink. And she, I am just in shock that she's alive. And by the next day, she is holding your head up a little bit better and walking around. We nurse this chicken back to health over the course of like two or three weeks. And now that it's been three weeks, almost four weeks now, she can walk a little bit. She's still not walking normally, but she can walk, and she's holding her head up better. And I really think that she broke her-. I can't even think about it. It was awful, okay? But she is bald. I'm putting hen healer on her head. Her wounds are being tended to and dressed, and she is eating, she's walking around. And so now we have like a little fence that we can set up just like-. I don't know how to explain it. It's like a crate but there's no lid on top. And we can just set it up and we can play outside with her inside that fence so that she is safe. We don't want the other chickens to be mean to her because she is not in a good state right now and they are very much all about the pecking order. And so we play with this chicken outside in the little fence and then bring her back in at night. And now she's doing so well that we can put her in her own little tiny coop outside at night and then just let her out in the morning. And the flock has accepted her back enough that she can be outside safely during the day. They do not share food with her. So we have to give her her own food. But they have accepted her back more than I thought that they would. And she is very, very ugly, unfortunately.
But she has survived this hawk attack, and I can't even tell you what this experience has been like for the outside kids or for us dealing with it. This little chick. I can't even tell you. So anyway, this is a big event in our family.
Okay, and so I have my dream therapist. That's what I'm going to call her now. The one that's really good at helping us with our dreams. So basically we have an EMDR therapist and a dream therapist. That's the easiest way to describe it now, and I'm just gonna leave it there for now.
But we take this story to our dream therapist. Not because we're thinking of it like a dream, but just because it's what's happening. So she's like, “how's your week going?” And I'm like, “let me tell you what happened with this chicken.” Because if I can tell a really good story, then it uses up therapy time, right? Because it's like, I don't know, you can call it pacing, or you could call it avoidance. It's probably a little bit of both. But also it is authentically and legitimately the big piece of news that I have from month 20 and quarantine that we saw a hawk take our chicken, and we got the chicken back. Like, I'm kind of proud of my superhero self for wrestling a hawk and getting the chicken back, right? And I'm thinking this is a funny story. I'll just tell it really funny. I can even tell it how the kids have said it. Like, I can just tell you this chicken story. But can I just tell a funny story in therapy? No. No, I cannot. Because we are going to analyze everything. And we are going to tend to the story the way we would a dream.
And I am thinking, how is that even possible, therapist lady? Like, what are you talking about? But she says it is possible because there is synchronicity, and like the collective unconscious of the world, and the universe and everything that is around us. And all of our experiences are all meant to teach us. And if we are paying attention, we can learn what we're trying to tell ourselves. And I'm like, “Listen, hocus pocus, I don't know about this, but we can see.” And she's like, “Well, at the very least, let's just explore what the symbols are and see if there is anything. And if there's not anything, then it's no big deal and you can have your funny story. But if there is something, then at least we're paying attention. And that's really important to you because you said you wanted attunement, because of healing from relational trauma.” Ugh. I hate when they do that, when the therapist throws your own words back at you. So we're gonna do this just for fun to see if there's anything there and made sure I'm paying attention to myself. So she's tricked me into this. Not really. I'm kidding. I have fully consented to doing this exercise just for practice, tending to our experience with the chicken like that, like a dream. Even though it really happened in real life. It was not a dream. But it's a story. And in therapy, you can work with stories. And so she thinks it's significant and that it has quote, redemptive value. And so we're kind of find out what this redemptive value is. And I'm thinking, “How hard can this be? It's just the chicken story. Like it happened in real life. I don't even need my defences up or walls up to keep any concerns out about this story, because it's just the chickens. It happened to the chickens. It wasn't even about me.” Right? Wrong. You guys in therapy, you should always keep your walls up. [Laughter]
Because listen to what she did with the chicken story. Okay. So she opens up with, “The first thing you said in your story was that you had already lost three chickens to hawks. What does the number three mean to you? Just generally, is there anything important that the number three could mean?” And I'm like, “I have zero importance associated with the number three.” And she's like, “Okay, what about the chickens? What do you think that the chickens represent?” And I'm like, “I don't know. I love them. And they're adorable. They're sweet.” And she's like, “Oh, innocence. So what three innocence have you lost?” And I'm like, “No, no, no. What are you talking about? Right?” So what three innocence do we have? And I'm like, “What are you talking about?” Like just trying to even think about this. I have to be really quiet. I have to be really still and trust the process, which is hard. And just see what comes to the surface, right? And the first thing that finally comes to the surface is that I can even think of at all, is that we have the three Emma's. Why is this significant? That could feel like a loss because, oh, it's been three years since we lost the three Emmas because of what happened with our previous therapist. And so she says, “So you have already told yourself that you are ready to start talking about this experience of loss because of a predator.” Like, “Whoa. What? How did we get there? Where did that go?”
She's like, “Let's just listen some more. What else do you think chickens represent?” And so the only other thing I can think about what chickens can represent is, I know from Women Who Run With the Wolves, because that's our Bible. I mean, not really, but it's like, love this book, right? It's our thing. And so we know about Baba Yaga, who is like the initiator of change and transformation. And it always seems super scary at first because it's like a house on chicken feet. And so that little monster character theme in old old ancient fairy tales seems super scary, but it's always where wisdom comes from. But it's also always an initiation by fear. It's the kind of fear of not something actually hurting you. But it's something scary that happens that wakes you up and causes some kind of like domino reaction that changes your life. So usually, the Baba Yaga wakes you up from like some sort of too-good mother who is trying to keep you from starting out on a journey. So for example, in the Vasilisa story there is a girl who needs to go on a journey in a very Hansel and Gretel kind of way. But her mother, her too-good mother doesn't want her to go. “No. Please don't go. Please stay home. Please just stay here. It's comfortable. You're safe.” But really, to get what they need, she actually has to leave. And so it's that part of us, it's that part of relationships that hold us back when we actually need change to occur. That's a too-good mother, it seems safe, it seems cozy to not embark on the journey. But it's not actually healthy, because the wisdom and the change that you need, you can only get by going, you can only get by doing it.
So now here I am reflecting on this already in therapy, that therapy does not feel safe. It is more cozy and comfortable to not engage in therapy because it's scary to do that hard work. But if I don't embark on the journey, I'm not going to get the wisdom and the healing and the medicine that Baba Yaga would give me. So now I'm thinking about this in the context of therapy. Because I've had this year of therapy for therapy, right? And when I think of the innocent littles who were hurt by the loss of our previous therapist, and that as predator, then we absolutely have the three Emmas who have disappeared because no, we don't need to do therapy because that ended badly. And yet, we have good safe therapists now who are ready to help us. And if we don't engage, we are not going to get better. And so it's a confrontation of that too-good mother that we have to let go of that hiding spot and go on the journey to get our wisdom and reclaim our own strength and power back into our lives.
So, to me, that feels also very much like what we're in during in this season, as the littles are about to get vaccinated, and we start to come out of quarantine. Part of me is like, “we should just stay in quarantine forever. It's very cozy, it's working, we're safe here.” But also eventually it's actually going to be safe to leave quarantine and to reenter the world, even if we're wearing a mask or taking appropriate precautions. We can't just hide on our little hill forever. We are at some point going to have to re-enter the world and engage if we want to get that wisdom and experience that is supposed to be and meant to be part of our lives.
Whew. So that was a lot, right? So I'm thinking, “Oh my goodness, that was intense. And that was a lot. I can't believe you got all of that out of our story.” And she's like, “No, no, no, no. That's just the beginning part. That's just our starting place.” [Laughter] And I'm like, “Wait, there's more to this?” She's like, “What about the hawk? The hawk in this story is clearly a predator. What do you think that symbolizes to you? What kind of things come to the surface in your consciousness when you think about a hawk?” Well, people, I don't think about hawks. I don't know what a hawk symbolizes to me. And I'm trying to think about this. I am trying to think of what a hawk means to me. And you know what? I've got nothing. [Laughter] A hawk doesn't mean anything to me. What does a hawk supposed to symbolize? I'm trying to think about in the stories I've read, or the symbols I've studied, like, what does a hawk supposed to symbolize? And I've got nothing. And she says, “No, no, no. You are trying too hard. You can't force it. You have to listen to yourself.” I don't want to listen to myself. The problem with listening to myself means that another self is talking, and that's why I'm in therapy. [Laughter]
Okay, so she says, “Keep it just super simple.” She says, “When I say a hawk, what image comes to your mind? The first thing. Don't filter it just the first thing.” So she said, “Hawk.” And the thing that came to my mind, which shocked me, because it felt like out of left field, or out of the blue, or whatever, was the Hawkeye symbol from Iowa sports team. I was like, “Oh, my goodness. It represents Iowa.” And she's like, “What does that have to do with anything?” And I was like, “Well, we lived in Iowa for sixth and seventh grade.” And she says, “So was that significant in some way? Or what significance does that hold for you when you think about that time in your life?” Um, there's like, first of all, I try not to think about that time of my life. Thank you very much. And second of all, I guess it kind of was significant. That's when…
I can't even say it. I was gonna do it. Because I feel like it's not too explicit of anything terrible. That I could share this. But now that I'm trying, it's really hard to say words. Okay, let me try. We move to Iowa because my mother had to get away from her family to be able to have capacity and to empower herself enough to divorce my father.
And she was like, “That's interesting. So who moved to Iowa?” And I said, “Well, we did. Us kids.” And she said, “How many kids?” And I said, “Three.” [Laughter] I'm sorry. It's not funny. Except that there's the three that I was like, “There's nothing that means three.” Oh, yeah. There were three little chicks. [Laughter]
So us siblings, right, moving to Iowa with our mother. And then it just went downhill for there. Like there's so much trauma pieces that are not appropriate for me to share on the podcast, both for privacy and for your own safety. And my safety. I just, I can't go into it. But like, basically, our father followed her up there and so ended up finding us, and things climax, and there were all kinds of traumas that happened there before we were able to get away, and then moved again to another state.
And so all of a sudden, everything made sense. The hawks swooping in, the loss of one of the babies. It was down to the detail so that this entire experience with the chicken, this was actually a retelling of what happened to us in sixth and seventh grade. I’m not even kidding. I had no idea that that was possible or could be a thing. And she just kept drawing the parallels.
So there was this parallel where we had said earlier that we used to love hawks because, like, the song from the Oklahoma musical about the lazy hawks circling in the sky, right? And so that was very familiar to us, the music and the song. So we used to like hawks until we had chickens. And now we don't like hawks anymore. And so she talked to us about our father, which we have never gone there in therapy before. And not in detail, but in general patterns of grooming, and love bombing, and manipulating and how that played out in reenactments with domestic violence situations later in our life. People, I cannot tell you how intense this therapy session was, and I just thought we were going to talk about chickens.
We also had told her, when we were telling her this story of the chickens, we also told her about one of our favorite chickens that we lost, the first chicken that we lost early in the summer, that we kept one of her feathers we found on the ground, just because she was so special. And I don't even know how to explain that. It was like one of the first times we've had an attachment. And maybe that's because of our friends that we are making through groups, and Peter, and other friends that we have made. But there's just something good about that. And so this chicken that we loved, she was not the smartest chicken ever, okay? [Laughter] And she was a super extra fat chicken. And no shaming of that, as a person myself. But she even could not get up our little hills. So when she was excited to see us she would have to like fly and run at the same time to get up our hill. Because she couldn't waddle up the big hill. And I feel ya, as a waddler, myself. But we, she was just adorable. She was always happy to see us. She always would snuggle with us. I just, who knew that I would grow up to love a chicken so much. And so we grieved, JohnMark especially grieved, when we lost this chicken. But we kept her feather.
And so she was asking us, “What else is there that you kept from this time period, or that you kept as a momento of something good in the middle of so much grief?” And we thought of blankets, and that we still have this blanket? “And what else? How does that connect back to three? What good was that in your life like the chicken?” And all these things about the nurturer and protection that we had with her, and how that went away when we lost her. But also, it went all the way back to the lows, which you will understand if you have read the book. But those little rabbits we still have and there are three rabbits. And so then that same symbol came up again. And she talked about how that goodness—which she has said before—the goodness and the nurturing that was planted in us in that season, even though it was cut short and it's so tragic and so grief filled, and I can't even talk about it. But those seeds of goodness like blossomed in our adult life so that we were able to choose goodness instead of repeating the cycle of what we had been through in bad ways.
So then we also told her as part of the chicken's story about how the hawk did not want to go after Berlin, who is like the bossiest of the chickens. So like they have their pecking order, right? And she is a little snot, and she is very strict about the rules. And so even the hawk did not want to mess with Berlin. And so the therapist was like, “What part of you is like Berlin that people just know not to mess with, or that you are able to keep your system safe because they recognize what needs to be done even when others don't understand? Like, where does that power lie in you, even when the three Emmas are not available?” And I was like, “Oh my goodness. I get that now, like the innocence and the lostness of the Emma's, like why they're blurry, why they are not like solid or 3D, are so slippery like ghosts almost, like not all the way there. In contrast to like last year when we were in crisis and Courtney was like, “No. This is how it's going to be. This is how things are going to go. And this person is a predator. It doesn't matter how many people say she's a good person, or how many times she says she's a good person. What she is, what they are doing to you is harmful, and it's absolutely not okay, and I will not put up with it anymore.” What? And so Courtney got compared to a chicken. [Laughter]
So then we talked about how the hawk went after the little chicks when they could not go after Berlin. And so she asked about that. How in our lives have younger parts been more vulnerable. And we again talked about how abuse got worse. The younger parts like JohnMark and others were so wounded by the loss of our therapists and everything that unfolded there. And how we have had to work together as a system in ways we never have before in order to get ourselves out of that situation and safe, without repeating it or being pulled back to it or manipulated back into it or groomed back for it as we had been in the past. And so she talked about how Berlin in our chicken story, in real life, is like a piece of medicine from the dream. That Courtney was like medicine for us that kept us alive when almost nothing else did. And how we have as a system this part of us that is intuitive and protective and validating and cohesive, and how that matters because it's a reminder, it tells us—or really is us telling ourselves, it is me telling myself—that every part of the system matters. And how Em, like the mother hen with the outside kids, right, is trustworthy and intuitive and safe and empowered. And how when it mattered, we were able to hunt down the predator. And she says, “This is where the medicine comes in.” Because for the first time, we were able to hunt down the predator. We were able to rescue the baby chick. We were able to bring her in safely. And we knew how to treat her.
She asked us what it was like when that hawk came swooping in. And I told her it felt like the Jabberwocky from Alice in Wonderland swooping in like a dragon and that sound it made. And she asked me about that in the Alice in Wonderland reference. And I told her about the [laugh] that musical version that came out like when we were in third grade or something. And so the Jabberwocky was extra scary at the time in that rendition, and, just because of our age. And how when we heard that sound and we heard the children's screaming, how it connected back to that time and things that were happening at that time, and what our traumas were like. And that there are some of the recently retraumatized littles who are still at that age and at that place. And so it makes sense how we were telling ourselves that they need this medicine of being protected. That when we were little and crying out, “mama help, mama help.” No one was coming. She did not open the door and left us in danger. And how us chasing down this hawk and rescuing that baby chick is like applying medicine to these younger alters, and such a parallel with our trauma that we had been through.
So there are parts of us that are stronger, there are parts of me, stronger than what I knew and stronger than what I realized. I am stronger than what I realized. And part of that-. And the reason that even that piece is medicine, is like medicine to my soul, is because of that strength only came in response to recognizing that the littles were being targeted. And as long as I stay asleep, meaning dissociation, and as long as I'm not aware, then I also can't recognize those moments. That I have to be awake and alert and aware to recognize those moments to use my own power to keep myself safe.
And for that reason, even protector parts deserve honor and trust. So that I am not just present for my outside children or the chickens. But I am responding in a way no one ever responded for us. And I am protecting them in a way no one ever protected us. That is what is called redemptive contrary medicine. In the original trauma, when we were little—when I was a little girl—we could not stop the hawk. We could not stop the predator. I could not stop my parents. But I didn't have an adult body. I didn't have power. I did not have resources. That's what the baby chick represents. But now I am an adult. I am not like my mother. I do respond. And it's effective. I was able to exhibit immense power even when the heart came back a second time. I did not give up. That shows resiliency and tenacity. She talked about the archetypal hero and the journey of standing up to a monster to take back that which was stolen from us. And that reminds me of all things, of that line from Labyrinth movie with a girl who has been through this epic journey, right, says to the Goblin King, “through dangers untold and the hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin city to take back the child that you have stolen.” And the therapist said, “Yes. That is exactly what we are talking about here.” It is a salvation story. It's a redemption story. It is me telling myself and telling my predators, “You can't do this to me anymore. You can't take away my baby chicks again. I'm not little anymore.”
The baby chick, and my own past, is not without trauma, is not without damage, is not without the consequences of what we have been through. But we literally took power back. There was trauma, legitimate trauma. There was crying, even screaming. But we got her back. We got me back. I fought back and I won.
She asked about the oxygen and what I thought the oxygen might mean and the closest I could think of was therapy. It keeps me breathing while I heal. She says if that's true, then it makes my daughter the symbol of the wounded healer, taking her own woundedness and offering it as healing. The G-tube syringe to give the chicken water is the same thing. The wounded part offering healing medicine. She said, it's what we do with the podcast. It's what we do in the Community. It's what we do at work. It's what we do for ourselves every time we listen to ourselves and each other. We think that our wounds are poison that will kill us that our trauma will overwhelm us. But our trauma is in the past. And our wounds are the very medicine that heals us. These symbols of feeding and oxygen remind us that we have survived so that we are able and determined to help others. It tells us we have everything we need to offer intentional and purposeful healing to ourselves.
We did not leave the chicken there in the road. We have not left our children alone. We cannot leave parts of ourselves alone. We've got to bring them in like the little chick, and make a little precious bed, and turn on the lights, and whisper to them, and offer them the basics of oxygen and water. And be so gentle with them, barely touching them, so that they can feel. So that I can heal.
She said bringing anything into the house always represents awareness. It means it's what we're giving ourselves permission to speak about. She said there are times that we have to bring things into awareness and just put them down and let them be. We don't know what will happen, or how much care it will require. But we keep those pieces in the light and we let them exist with us. Clinging to faith, trying to breathe, tending to them from our own toolbox, our own resources, our own wounds. That's where the wisdom is. And that's where the healing medicine comes from, that we give to ourselves.
We already have everything that we need. And it's even okay when we don't know exactly what to do. It's okay to wait and see how things go. That is wisdom.
Having feelings is okay. Having feelings is human. Having feelings is love. And it's okay to be the little chick ourselves, to realize we barely have what we need and we don't know if we're going to make it. But first we tuck our legs in, and then we start accepting water, and trying to eat, and trying out our wings, and wanting to stand, and spending time outside.
She pointed out that our youngest daughter is the most fragile of our children. And even she had what she needed to be there for the little chick. And she said it's the same for us—for me—that even my most fragile parts have what they need to heal the trauma we have already endured. And as we sat outside with the check in the fence, playing scarecrows, so the hawk would stay away while she got fresh air and tried to move. She said that's the symbol of something, this symbol of someone who's strong enough to scare off predators, who has protective capacity, who has what it takes to endure.
“It's okay to let them in,” she said. To become aware of them. It's okay to tend to them, all of them, To keep them in the light. It's okay to let them back outside again. We have what it takes to keep them safe.
I began to cry. It's been three years. Before that, we were much more overt at times. We had moved from covert to overt, boldly sharing who we were and trying to talk to each other, writing in the notebooks, working together, making progress. And then the rug was pulled out from under us. And the walls went up. And the silence fell. And covert was the way to go again. Because it wasn't safe. We didn't have what we needed. We were only wounded.
She says this experience with the chickens is telling us that we're ready. We’re ready to go there again. We're ready to let walls down. We're ready to talk to each other. We're ready to care for each other.
She told us to think about what medicine this is, what message we are sending ourselves from this, and to consider what it might be like to let the others back out into the world again. To stop fighting switching. Just start communicating again. To relax and just let them be in the light, gently, tended to, healing.
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Thank you for listening. Your support really helps us feel less alone while we sort through all of this and learn together. Maybe it will help you in some ways too. You can connect with us on Patreon. And join us for free in our new online community by going to our website at www.systemspeak.org. If there's anything we've learned in the last four years of this podcast, it's that connection brings healing. We look forward to connecting with you.