Honoring the living as well as the dead

Honoring the living as well as the dead by Asha Hawkesworth
U.S. Army photo by Staff Sgt. Peter Rimar, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons On Veteran's Day, our thoughts naturally turn to those we have lost: the fathers, sons, brothers, mothers, wives, and sisters. Their absence lays heavily on our hearts, and we miss them and remember why—and often, how—they passed. This is appropriate, but we should also use this opportunity to mourn the passing of those who are still with us. All too often, when our veterans see combat, a part of them dies, whether they are physically wounded or not. When they return home, they are not the same person who left. Sometimes the difference is hard to detect. And sometimes, the difference is all you can see. Veterans of the world wars were just as changed by it as the younger generations, but in those days, they didn't talk about it. You might hear the phrase "battle fatigue," but there was a stigma if that label was applied to you. We all have family members who fought those wars. There was grandpa, who never talked about his experiences in the war and tried to forget, but was forever changed. There was the uncle who couldn't process what happened, so he turned to alcohol and couldn't function well. And there were all the people in between: those who kept their memories at bay and those who were haunted in their dreams. For those who didn't know them "before," there was only the one person, the only one you ever knew. For those who did know that other, more innocent person, they kept the secret to avoid pouring salt on the wound. Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan may be "messier" wars, but their results are the same: some veterans return home, alive, but leave a part of themselves in the theater of war forever. Fortunately, we are more willing now to talk about their pain, and we have new words to describe it, like post-traumatic stress disorder. We now understand that there are consequences when we train people to live in in a state of high alert and stress, expecting the attack that could come at any moment. War isn't clean, and bad things happen to people—things that no one ever wants to see. It changes people. To cope with the pain, they may literally send a part of themselves away, where it can be safe. The problem then becomes how to get that piece of self back again. It is very common for human beings who have lived through difficult, stressful, or even crazy circumstances to send part of their soul energy outside of their body. The strong desire not to be where you are and not to endure what you must endure is enough to accomplish this. In the shaman's language, this soul energy goes into another world, where it must be retrieved. The goal of the shaman is to unify the soul and heal it. For some people, this can involve retrieving numerous "lost" fragments of their energy. When people don't feel safe, they do whatever is required for their own self-preservation. This includes people who are abused in some way, people who don't have their basic needs met (such as the homeless), and of course, veterans of wars. Anyone who finds themselves in such circumstances will develop a way to function just so they can get through it. When they are safe again, however, it isn't easy to reset all of the patterns that were developed to handle the stress. They need help. As we pay our respects to the fallen, let us also pay our respects to the living, who need us so much more. They are still here with us, waiting for our acknowledgement. They may be healthy and sound. They may be sad or depressed. They may be disabled as a result of their service. They may suffer from mental illness and addiction because they don't know how to return to living "normally." They may have nightmares. They may have regrets and survivor's guilt. They may wish that they could put that genie back in the bottle and recover their "old" selves again. When our veterans come home, they may be beginning a lifelong journey of healing, and the least we can do for them is to give them the help and resources they need to travel that road. Let's support them and show them that we care. Veterans' resources: Oregon Department of Veterans' Affairs Veteran Benefits at the Oregon Department of Veterans' Affairs Veterans' Facilities in Oregon Oregon State Veteran's Benefits Resources for the homeless: Homeless Veterans Programs JOIN homeless outreach in Portland Benefit Advocacy Coalition

Honoring the living as well as the dead
by Asha Hawkesworth

Mayan calendar

U.S. Army photo by Staff Sgt. Peter Rimar,
courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

On Veteran's Day, our thoughts naturally turn to those we have lost: the fathers, sons, brothers, mothers, wives, and sisters. Their absence lays heavily on our hearts, and we miss them and remember why—and often, how—they passed. This is appropriate, but we should also use this opportunity to mourn the passing of those who are still with us. All too often, when our veterans see combat, a part of them dies, whether they are physically wounded or not. When they return home, they are not the same person who left. Sometimes the difference is hard to detect. And sometimes, the difference is all you can see.

Veterans of the world wars were just as changed by it as the younger generations, but in those days, they didn't talk about it. You might hear the phrase "battle fatigue," but there was a stigma if that label was applied to you. We all have family members who fought those wars. There was grandpa, who never talked about his experiences in the war and tried to forget, but was forever changed. There was the uncle who couldn't process what happened, so he turned to alcohol and couldn't function well. And there were all the people in between: those who kept their memories at bay and those who were haunted in their dreams. For those who didn't know them "before," there was only the one person, the only one you ever knew. For those who did know that other, more innocent person, they kept the secret to avoid pouring salt on the wound.

Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan may be "messier" wars, but their results are the same: some veterans return home, alive, but leave a part of themselves in the theater of war forever. Fortunately, we are more willing now to talk about their pain, and we have new words to describe it, like post-traumatic stress disorder. We now understand that there are consequences when we train people to live in in a state of high alert and stress, expecting the attack that could come at any moment. War isn't clean, and bad things happen to people—things that no one ever wants to see. It changes people. To cope with the pain, they may literally send a part of themselves away, where it can be safe. The problem then becomes how to get that piece of self back again.

It is very common for human beings who have lived through difficult, stressful, or even crazy circumstances to send part of their soul energy outside of their body. The strong desire not to be where you are and not to endure what you must endure is enough to accomplish this. In the shaman's language, this soul energy goes into another world, where it must be retrieved. The goal of the shaman is to unify the soul and heal it. For some people, this can involve retrieving numerous "lost" fragments of their energy.

When people don't feel safe, they do whatever is required for their own self-preservation. This includes people who are abused in some way, people who don't have their basic needs met (such as the homeless), and of course, veterans of wars. Anyone who finds themselves in such circumstances will develop a way to function just so they can get through it. When they are safe again, however, it isn't easy to reset all of the patterns that were developed to handle the stress. They need help.

As we pay our respects to the fallen, let us also pay our respects to the living, who need us so much more. They are still here with us, waiting for our acknowledgement. They may be healthy and sound. They may be sad or depressed. They may be disabled as a result of their service. They may suffer from mental illness and addiction because they don't know how to return to living "normally." They may have nightmares. They may have regrets and survivor's guilt. They may wish that they could put that genie back in the bottle and recover their "old" selves again.

When our veterans come home, they may be beginning a lifelong journey of healing, and the least we can do for them is to give them the help and resources they need to travel that road. Let's support them and show them that we care.

Veterans' resources:

Resources for the homeless: