My eyes fluttered awake. Feeling the early morning chill, I pulled on a sweater and drowsily trekked into the living room. I turned on the Christmas tree’s twinkling lights, filled my diffuser with a festive scent, and flipped on the morning news. I smiled as the weather reporter announced a light snowfall would be coming later in the afternoon. As the hosts transitioned to a new segment, detailing creative ways to wrap presents, I spotted a small byline at the bottom of the screen: storms continue in the midwest, four killed, more injured. All the while, above the streamline of critical news stories, two smiling ladies taught viewers how to decorate wrapping paper with glitter glue.

The winter season brings the arrival of many festivities. I’ll be the first to admit, I love celebrations and cookies and chats by a warm fire. However, I’ve begun to ask if my “perfect” holiday picture, provides any room for the realities of everyday life. This semester, I had the opportunity to be an intern with ICTG, hearing accounts from multiple survivors of trauma. I learned that at every level of society, among young and old, powerful and powerless, trauma occurs and it does not respect a schedule. This December, likely, we all have neighbors who, in some way, are mourning, anxious, depressed,  hungry, heartbroken, angry, or without support. Many of us may even identify with these things above, yet choose to, or feel we must, ignore or compartmentalize our pain. So where in the holiday season is there room for suffering?

This past month, I was introduced to the writing of Viktor Frankl, a Jewish psychologist who was imprisoned in a series of Nazi concentration camps during World War II. In his book, Man’s Search For Meaning, Frankl describes his process of making meaning out of his suffering. He continues to encourage his readers and friends to view suffering as not an end to one’s story. Although terrible and painful, suffering also shapes a person into who they will become. He recalls speaking this message to a room of prisoners, as everyone lays in their bunks, in relative despair. He states “I told my comrades...that human life, under any circumstances, never ceases to have meaning and that this infinite meaning of life includes suffering and dying, privation and death...They must not lose hope but should keep their courage in the certainty that the hopelessness of our struggle did not detract from its dignity and its meaning.” (p.83)

Although Frankl acknowledges selfishness as an abundant means of survival in the camps, sacrifice was also something he witnessed. Despite the cruel conditions of the camp, some prisoners were able to create a community of strength. Frankl includes tales of prisoners sharing moments of humor, cooks who gave him extra scoops of peas, prayer groups and religious readings, and officers who occasionally showed compassion. It’s as Frankl shares: “the salvation of man is through love and in love” (p. 37). In one crucial scene, Frankl has to choose between escaping the camp or to continuing to care for patients in the hospital tent. When provided with an opportunity to choose to love himself or love another, Frankl chooses to love his patients. He attests to have “gained an inward peace that I had never experienced before. I returned to the hut, sat down on the boards at my countryman’s feet and tried to comfort him” (p. 59). To receive love, and return love, he found peace even in the midst of great trauma.

The life of Viktor Frankl is a testament to the healing power of healthy community, a chemistry that Frankl shows can be established even within the most dire of circumstances. Throughout my semester with ICTG, I have seen the beautiful, slow beginnings of recovery in communities in Southern California. After wildfires, mass shootings, and other forms of collective trauma, survivors and responders have worked hard to create support networks for those suffering. As I have attended some of these events, including serving survivors of the Conception Dive Boat tragedy, learning from first responders of the Thomas Fire and Montecito 1/9 Debris Flow, observing community care events related to the Rt 91 Las Vegas shooting, Borderline Bar shooting, and Hill and Woolsey Fires, and providing care to children impacted by the Cave Fire in Santa Barbara, I have witnessed the strength of love and compassion amongst survivors and their family and friends. They have taken time to listen to one another’s stories, to celebrate birthdays and mourn losses, and to dream about better futures they can create together. Their conversations exude grit, real hurt, but also great joys. In all of this, I have been amazed and challenged to rethink my approach to suffering. I am beginning to see suffering not only as pain and loss, but also as an invitation to grow and to deepen relationships with others.

I recognize that I am only just beginning to grasp what that means. So, this holiday season, I want to reflect on my year’s experiences honestly. I desire to acknowledge both the joy and suffering in my midst. I hope to create compassionate spaces in which others can feel welcome to do the same. May we all accept the approach of the holidays as an opportunity to practice healthy community living, to be supportive for those struggling, and to draw strength from relationships when we ourselves are in need. For the communities who have lost loved ones because of storms this week, we see you, we acknowledge your pain, and we mourn with you. May you be surrounded with the support and comfort you need this holiday season.

Lighting a match should be a simple task.

One, two, three: A match meets the side of its box, a flick of the wrist, crisp crackly sounds, and the flame ignites. Yet, for some of us, lighting a match has become a deeply complex activity. The smell, the sound, the sight of burning light...it all proves too much. 

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It’s been two years since I woke up at 3 am to a neighbor furiously banging on my door. It’s been two years since I stepped outside with her, to look up at the mountains fully aflame, coming towards our neighborhood. It’s been two years since I ran back inside a pitch-black house and woke everyone up to flee. It’s only been two years and yet I am forever changed by the events of the Tubbs Fire which consumed parts of Santa Rosa in October 2017. Suddenly, things that once seemed mundane and simple, evolved into triggers. I became disconcerted when I saw the color orange, watched hazy sunsets, heard sirens in the distant, and inhaled the smoke from beach bonfires. In the months to come, I would be evacuated several more times from my college campus due to the Thomas Fire and Montecito Debris Flow. I would grow tired and it would become hard even to do one of the most simple tasks: to light a match. I would also come to understand much more of the incredible paradox of human fragility and strength. It was out of weakness many survivors learned the unparalleled strength of togetherness - of learning we are not alone.

When I first began college, I knew I had a keen interest in studying the human story. History, literature, cultural studies, sociology, psychology, even anatomy - if people were involved, I was there. The more I learned, the more the nature of human resilience captured both my heart and my mind. How do humans keep going, amidst struggle and turmoil? What causes someone to try, try, try again? Which factors need to be in place for a person to be resilient despite circumstances? How can we empower people? How can we inspire hope? And so a psychology major was born. 

Shortly thereafter, my studies quickly collided with my life. I was living right in the middle of two collective trauma stories, where both my home and school communities experienced roads diverging, and both communities faced the hard choice to take the road less traveled. In each case, we had to choose to wake up every day and have hope. We had to choose to keep persisting. We had to choose to lean into uncomfortable spaces, become vulnerable, engage with grief, and heal. We had to choose to remake the meaning of lighting a match. 

Last Christmas, I made candles for my friends, family, and professors as gifts. The meaning behind a candle, behind lighting a match, was reborn. As members of my faith gathered to celebrate the gift of Emmanuel (The Christian recognition God is with us), I wanted those around me to remember this gift of withness as well. I wanted them to see light, life, warmth, hope, and togetherness at the sight of that little flame. 

This August I began my fourth year at Westmont College. As a senior psychology major, I have the unique opportunity to take our Capstone Senior Psychology Practicum course. Under the guidance of faculty, twelve seniors have embarked on the journey to put our education to practice. Swapping textbooks for hands-on learning, we each have been partnered with a local Santa Barbara psychological professional. Last year, I watched my dear friend Eva Pauley grow as a student, leader, and comforter as she worked as a religious studies intern for ICTG. When I first began my search for my supervisor, Dr. Kate Wiebe the Executive Director of ICTG, was the first name on my list. Now several months later, I have completed my first month as a psychology practicum student at ICTG. I’ve already learned so much in such a short span of time, particularly about ways in which trauma not only impacts individuals but also impacts groups and the spirit of a community. I am amazed by the dedication of the ICTG staff to work together to empower leaders and communities faced with great challenges. 

Over the next three months, I will be focusing on these questions: How can communities foster resilience after they experience a collective trauma? What steps have local communities taken towards providing emotional, spiritual, and mental support? What has worked and where is there room for growth and innovation? I look forward to learning more from this gifted team of individuals, and the survivors and responders we serve. Most of all, I look forward to engaging in this opportunity to continue sharing the gift of togetherness. 

Did you know you can give a financial gift to help support ICTG's unique learning-serving internships? ICTG interns receive one-on-one coaching and complete projects related to their community leadership interests. Help support our internship program and donate today!