By Michael Meade

When I woke up suddenly the other night I didn’t know if I was in the thralls of post-traumatic stress or present-traumatic stress. Eventually, I realized I was experiencing both. The post traumatic part arose from memories of being 18 years old and feeling deep internal turmoil as I personally, and the culture collectively, faced intense issues of war and peace, life and death, trust and betrayal in the lead up to the Vietnam War. The present sense of trauma came from the fiery interchange of threats between the U.S. and Iran and the actual exchange of missile strikes on the ground in Iraq.

When the excess of firepower that characterizes modern weapons of war are used or about to be used, everyone suffers some trauma. For it is deeply traumatic to the human soul to imagine the levels of devastation, that not only destroy lives and level cities, but also tear the earth apart. However, the sense of personal and collective trauma becomes acutely amplified by the relentless spread of wildfires scorching the earth and decimating wildlife in Australia. In the psychic atmosphere of this split-screen world both culture and nature can be seen to be burning at the same time.

Fire seems to be everywhere, and be every way dangerous and destabilizing and whether we acknowledge it or not, the embers and ashes fall into the depths of the human soul.

Reports from Australia depict more than 15 million acres being torched and over a billion animals being incinerated or else dying because their ecosystems have been destroyed. While most of the people and some of the larger, more mobile animals may escape the flames, smaller animals are not able to do so, and are being consumed no matter what they do.

On a psychological level human trauma can work that way as well. Parts of us may survive the traumas of war or natural disaster or some other kind of devastating loss. Other parts of us were unable to escape and those become the charred remains, the ever smoldering inner aspects of trauma and loss that can heat up and burn within when new tragedies are in the air. 

Like any truly traumatic condition, we would not knowingly choose it; but like it or not, we are caught between these great fires which are partly ancient and partly immediate. For, each of the current traumatic fires is fueled from remains of the past. Intense animosities that have smoldered like embers in both the ancient grounds and recent rubbles of history now threaten to erupt into open conflicts that could overheat into worldwide war. At the same time, the reckless and rampant burning of ancient fossil remains increasingly raises temperatures all over the earth, while also adding fuel to raging fires that endanger the Earth's entire protective atmosphere.

The poet William Stafford stated repeatedly that every war has two losers, an idea that should be emblazoned in all the war rooms and back rooms where people pretend that they are about to win a war. Even those who take a stand against war suffer anguish and trauma; everyone gets burned when it comes to the fires of war.

The overheating of the earth’s atmosphere has the effect of a war on nature as the images of melting of protective ice sheets and the decimation of forests and animals does lasting damage to regions of the soul as well as wide areas of the planet. Those who deny the evident effects of the worldwide climate crisis are as self-deceiving as those that deny the generational levels of damage remaining from wars people believed they could simply win. 

Being caught between post traumatic feelings and immediate forms of anguish can leave me feeling overwhelmed and defeated by life. But if I stay on the ground of my own being long enough, I realize that although I carry scars of previous trauma, I have also survived those injuries. And even if I bear the burden of parts of myself that did not fully survive, there is knowledge in those wounded parts. Truth be told, it feels not just painful, but truly devastating when past flare up again. At the same time, there can be the possibility of drawing healing and even strength from the most deeply wounded areas of the psyche.

The old idea of the dark night of the soul is a reminder of the fact that we often find our deepest capacities for both survival and renewal in the darkest hours of our lives. In many ways, we are now collectively, along with all of nature and the animals of the world in such a dark night of the soul.

Inevitably, like a wildfire, the underlying tensions of life erupt again and appear as both the internal and external issues of war and peace, life and death, trust and betrayal. And, one of the greatest betrayals in life is the self-betrayal that happens when we imagine that someone else will solve the great dilemmas for us. While the increasing traumas involve all of us collectively, the way out of the burning issues requires that we awaken individually.

The inner alchemy of the soul intends to turn the heat of all that fumes and burns into the light of illumination. Yet, a dark night of the soul seems to be required in order for the inner light of life and enduring flame of imagination to be found and be confirmed. How else do we understand that everyone suffers in this world? The real risk in this life has always been that of becoming oneself amidst the heat of the moment and the uncertainties of existence. The only real sense of security can be found in taking the kind of risks that lead to a greater sense of life and a more encompassing way of being in the world.

Soul is the resilient and resourceful aspect of our being that can deal with great loss and handle even despair. It is part of the mystery of life on earth that the human soul can awaken, grow greater, and reveal inner gifts when everything turns dark and seems about to fall apart. The alchemy of the awakening soul becomes a source of meaningful change and a living root of remedies for what ails both culture and nature.