The Subtle Lesson From "Blackbird"

When I got back from Australia on March 12th, 2012 — I came back to a totally different world. 

My parents were in the middle of their divorce. My older sister was engaged. I was about to go to college for my first quarter, which was every one else's last quarter of their first year of enrollment. 

To say that I was on a different sense of time, on a different pace entirely, is no small statement. But that’s just the thing about trauma, especially trauma that your brain suppressed for you in the moment of the event. You will always be “looking” for what happened because your body is remembering it for you. Your mind is trying to lock the event on your timeline, so that you can finally stand on the truth of your experience, and move on. Inevitably, this will impact your level of engagement in your present moment, in your work, in your relationship dynamics, etc… in every aspect of your life... until you can fully resolve the trauma. 

Until you are healed, you may always feel that you are "running behind", or that you aren’t good enough. When I turned 19, I was in the spirit of traveling, and in a state of "I'll end up there when I get there" -- I think I knew intuitively I had a lot to work through still, even after my 6-month transformation abroad. So I decided I wanted a tattoo to represent a concept of, “no matter where you go, God is with you, you are protected.” This, because, I knew I was going to be leaving organized religion at some point. Intuitively, I knew I was going to have to separate, so that I could heal. You cannot heal in the space where you were abused, the physical separation from my family and home congregation was somewhat of a “warmup” for the real deal of healing. So when I got back, I got a tattoo on my right shoulder. It was a dove with an olive branch. A concept from the story in the Christian bible that talks about the ark of Noah. I chose this for my tattoo because it resembles the dove that was sent off, in hopes that it would return with proof of land; proof of life. 

But here’s the thing, this was a huge risk. Noah and his family could send out the dove, and maybe, hopefully, it would come back with signs of life. Or, they could have lost the dove altogether..which would mean the entire species of the dove, since only 2 of each kind were only on board. It could have drowned. As we "know" it came back with proof of life. It came back alive. (Maybe they already had a full nest -- but work with me here). The other thing about this story, which is commonly overlooked, is the fact that Noah sent out a raven first. And as the scripture reads, there's no count of whether or not the raven made it back to the ark. And while we allude the entire story of the ark to God's promise and the re-building of humanity and society on earth, the transformation happening is going on in the grand-scheme, God's blotting out the earth; and the small-scale, choosing a different bird for the task. 

And since I've lived most of my life feeling split in two, my tattoo really drove the point across: it's black dove, with really bold lines. Much to my regret — I don't love the look of it and want it to be transformed into a piece of art -- I feel a smidge like a branded cows (but hey, cows are cute). But at the time, I wanted a bold statement saying, "No matter where I go, even if that means leaving organized religion, God is with me. I am protected. There is a higher power with me." If you’ve read my blog post, “Are You Listening To The Metaphysics in Your Life?” — you’ll see what I mean about protection.

The common misconception and perceived judgments though is that when one leaves organized religion, it means they are abandoning faith, their spirituality and God. And this is where the gap in our world ruminates: "if I don't see you in church, that means...x y z assumptions about your character, your faith, what level of respect you deserve." And that last one, yes -- that's an illness that has spread like wildfire not just in churches, but in our world. When Jesus healed the blind man, he didn't gate-keep His gift of healing. When Jesus had children come to Him, He didn't discriminate one against the other based off of their current state of cleanliness or status from their parents in society. He didn't gaslight the woman who lived with a disabling spirit for nearly 2 decades -- He also didn't blame her for it. He helped. Point-blank, period. If God made the world, why wouldn't He be everywhere? That includes His work and His plans, so long as He can find the right collaborators to join Him. And that's just it: this world? We got a lot of problems to solve, where the biggest ones receive the least amount of attention. And that's are human nature -- we don't want to have to deal with it. 

The reason why people can't see their own freedom, Jesus, or their life-source, that's actually right in front of them, is usually just from distraction. 

I left organized religion 4 years later, when I finally stopped trying to make it fit. When I stopped trying to force myself to be something I wasn't, because every Sunday, in every bible study, I would have to shut up on the conventional recipe being fed to every woman there: Get married. Have children. Submit to your husband. End of story. These things, while they can be very good, within the right contexts and environmental dynamics, have no way of serving a young adult who had experienced trauma directly involved with home/church/womanhood. Essentially, you’re telling a bird to want the very things that broke their wings — trying to convince them that it’s those things that will help them fly. 

Unfortunately, that’s just not how it works. I've recently tried reconnecting with a traditional faith community

But the thing is, all this time, since I was 19, I’ve had a blackbird tattooed on my right shoulder. It’s a dove, but when looking at the tattoo itself, it’s a blackbird. Without even knowing it, having forgotten about them altogether by this point in time (I write about this in my post, “I Purchased a Bouquet of Unicorn Baby’s Breath”), I had brought an aspect of my love for The Beatles up from the dead with this tattoo. My wings had been broken, and I wanted to fly — that meant leaving the place of brokenness so that I could go find life. So that I could then learn to fly, after healing. 

If you’ve never listened to The Beatles, I strongly encourage it. You can listen and sing along to the lyrics of Blackbird: 

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night.

Take these broken wings and learn to fly. 

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night. 

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see. 

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird, fly, into the light of the dark black night.”

While the metaphors of broken wings help us understand the reality of what it means to truly be disabled — incapable of living true to your good nature — it’s really the last line of the song that speaks truth to overcoming trauma and pain.

“Blackbird, fly, into the light of the dark black night.” 

How is there light, in darkness? 

The darkness happened, but who was there, in it? 

YOU. 

In order to see that light, you have to accept that what happened to you which was meant to harm and or destroy you, won’t do that, so long as you are intentional on healing it. And when you do, it will actually enable you to fly. 

The “light in the dark black night”, is seeing you in that moment of pain, and giving yourself grace that you are worthy of goodness, peace, love, despite of it.

You were the light, in the dark black night. So, your charge? 

Embrace them -- you. 

The definition of trauma concludes that we are not meant to survive it. It was never ours to endure. But because it happens, too often, we

The fact that you are still here today despite broken wings from the event, not only makes you a living miracle, it makes you powerful. 

But — you get to choose what power manifests from it all. 

Pain and darkness? 

Or freedom and light? 

I hope you choose to not only embrace the freedom in your light — but that you fly full force towards it in the dark black night. And do you want to know the secret sauce for that strength? To keep showing up for that freedom and light? 

Gratitude. 

Even, and especially when you don't feel great about life, saying, thinking or singing the words, "it is well with my soul" is not just your medicine, it ignites the superpowers of your voice. As you say, it shall be. 

-B