Transformational Pathways

How can we safely communicate that we are traumatised, when we can’t speak about it?

Living with this question all her life, Em was helped by different talking therapies and medications yet found that for her they never quite got to the root of what felt wrong. In her words: “We all know that it’s difficult to find the words for distress. Sometimes we lock it down so as not to harm ourselves or others, sometimes we can’t speak of it because it is forbidden. Being helped to find those words and tell your story is a huge relief.

But what happens when words just won’t come, or won’t give full justice to the feelings? How do we express trauma that came when our thinking brains were offline, or maybe not even fully developed yet?”

Em became interested in bodywork and movement 20 years ago. She is now in her 5th year of training towards registration as a somatic therapist, and also develops peer support for the NHS.

In building this painting Em shared with Andy how her personal movement practice and study of anatomy formed into a significant pattern. “The autistic community has an explanation of overwhelm: “too much information”. This felt deeply true for me and I wondered whether trauma might get stuck in the central nervous system’s mysterious exchange from stimulus into response.”

Using anatomical study, movement, and touch to hone in on this question, Em found movements and images that gave a sense of recycling, of replaying a pattern over and over to find tiny variances. This slowly resolved into patterns that resembled the ancient Vesica Pisces symbol, which Em and Andy explored together.

“I was so excited when Andy told me he had built a pattern-making machine to help make the painting. I liked that it was a bit creaky and wobbly, like a human body, forever repeating the same processes in slightly different ways.”

Em is choosing not to name the trauma that her picture expresses, in solidarity with everyone who can’t speak of theirs.

“This painting shows that change can be found even in long-established patterns, that the things we can’t speak of can still be honoured, and I think it captures something very beautiful about holding onto hope.