Recovering from Trauma: Hatred Displaced by Joy

Hatred is an engine.

And fuel for the machine.

I use hatred not as a vehicle for hurting others, but as a vehicle for changing myself, for changing the world.

In the past two years of cancer treatment, I have witnessed, indeed experienced, acts of carelessness, neglect, and cruelty.

The healthcare providers who may possess accurate facts, or who may complete correct procedures, seem to have lost their humanity. They seem to forget that I, that all their patients, are human, and that drugs and surgeries, accompanied by gaslighting, coldness, bullying, and silence thick as stone, are not healing, are not healthful. They give people like me no reason to fight, no reason to live.

But I have always been self-sufficient on these counts. Hatred drives me to lace my running shoes, to hit the trails with the force of my thighs, to strike the air with my pumping arms. Hatred energizes me to lift the weights, to raise them over my head, to add pounds to the barbells, to press and squat and throw and discard.

I am motivated to do what’s necessary to survive, what’s good for me, because I hate the people who’ve mistreated me. To never rely on them again, I will devote myself to healthy difficulties: eating right, exercising vigorously, avoiding drink and drugs.

And I know that in recovering from trauma, hatred will be displaced by joy and curiosity. My hatred is already ceding to music, a concert of Iranian poetry sung by a woman not allowed on stage in her own country; to art, an exhibit of Islamic contemporary paintings showcasing calligraphy, poetry, and ornamentation; to food, a tour of a city’s Chinatown where I sample lychee fruit and sweets made of pumpkin topped with warm egg yolk.

In time, my diet will consist of more pleasure, less pain. And my efforts, amid the pleasures, will be acts of kindness and recognition to the people I meet, who might have interesting things to say, who might have wonders and insights to share, if only given a moment, if only asked a question, if only given space to be themselves.

#hopeandhealingcanada by artist Tracey-Mae Chambers 

Intricately hand-crafted using vibrant red yarn, Chambers’ creation is an invitation to venture along pathways of understanding between Indigenous and settler communities.

https://agakhanmuseum.org/whats-on/hopeandhealingcanada/