Sunday, August 08, 2010

Transforming the Pain of Vicarious Traumatization

A central idea in the Risking Connection© approach to dealing with vicarious traumatization is the concept of transforming the pain. One important way that human beings deal with pain is to look for the good within it, to notice how going through a difficult experience changed our lives or strengthened us as people. An example of this would be the woman who says: "I certainly didn’t want to go through that breast cancer scare last year. But it did sharpen my sense of my priorities, and so I have gone back to school to finish my degree." If we can notice the transformative effects of the pain we experience in our work, we will be able to appreciate how the work changes us in positive as well as negative ways, and will build on those positive changes. This is an powerful way that we can combat vicarious traumatization and stay engaged and hopeful in our work.

One author and healer who has deepened our understanding of this process is Rachel Naomi Remen. Rachel Naomi Remen is medical director of the Commonweal Cancer Help Program, and a clinical professor of family and community medicine at the University of California Ð San Francisco School of Medicine. Her books include My Grandfather's Blessings, and Kitchen Table Wisdom. She was recently interviewed on Speaking of Faith with Krista Tippett (a show that has many episodes which illuminate our work). The podcast of the show, as well as supporting writings, can be found at:

http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/2010/listening-generously/

In her RECAPTURING THE SOUL OF MEDICINE Rachel Naomi Remen speaks of the importance of finding meaning in one’s work:

In times of difficulty, meaning strengthens us not by changing our lives by transforming our experience of our lives, The Italian psychiatrist Roberto Assagioli tells a parable about 3 stone cutters building a cathedral in the Middle Ages. You approach the first man and ask him what he's doing. Angrily he turns to you and says, "Idiot! Use your eyes! They bring me a rock, I cut it into a block, they take it away, and they bring me another rock. I've been doing this since I was old enough to work, and I'm going to be doing it until the day that I die." Quickly you withdraw, go the next man, and ask him the same question. He smiles at you warmly and tells you, "I'm earning a living for my beloved family. With my wages I have built a home, there is food on our table, the children are growing strong." Moving on, you approach the third man with this same question. Pausing, he gives you a look of deep fulfillment and tells you, "I am building a great cathedral, a holy lighthouse where people lost in the dark can find their strength and remember their way. And it will stand for a thousand years!" Each of these men is doing the identical task. Finding a personal meaning in your work opens even the most routine of tasks to the dimension of satisfaction and even joy. We may need to recognize meaning for the resource it is and find ways to pursue it and preserve it.

Meaning is a human need. It strengthens us, not by numbing our pain or distracting us from our problems, or even by comforting us. It heals us by reminding us of our integrity, who we are, and what we stand for. It offers us a place from which to meet the challenges of life. Part of our responsibility as professionals is to fight for our sense of meaning — against fatigue and numbness, overwork, and unreasonable expectations — to find ways to strengthen it in ourselves and in each other. We will need to rebuild the medical system, not just on sound science or sound economics, but on the integrity of our commitment. It has become vital to remember the essential nature of this work and renew our sense of calling to preserve the meaning of the work for ourselves and for those who will follow.

Here are some quotes from her interview on the show:

You know, sometimes what appears to be a catastrophe, over time, becomes a strong foundation from which to live a good life. It's possible to live a good life even though it isn't an easy life. And I think that's one of the best-kept secrets in America.

I was going to say the great joys of working with people on the edge of life. The view from the edge of life is so much clearer than the view that most of us have, that what seems to be important is much more simple and accessible for everybody, which is who you've touched on your way through life, who's touched you. What you're leaving behind you in the hearts and minds of other people is far more important than whatever wealth you may have accumulated….

We thought we could cure everything, but it turns out that we can only cure a small amount of human suffering. The rest of it needs to be healed, and that's different. It's different. I think science defines life in its own way, but life is larger than science. Life is filled with mystery, courage, heroism, and love. All these things that we can witness but not measure or even understand, but they make our lives valuable anyway.

People who are physicians have been trained to believe that it is a scientific objectivity that makes them most effective in their efforts to understand and resolve the pain others bring them, and a mental distance that protects them from becoming wounded by this difficult work. It is extremely demanding training. Yet objectivity makes us far more vulnerable emotionally than compassion or a simple humanity. Objectivity separates us from the life around us and within us. We are wounded by that life just the same; it is only the healing which cannot reach us. Physicians pay a terrible price for their objectivity….

No one is comfortable with loss. Being that we're a technological culture, our wish or our first response — let's put it this way: Our first response to loss is try and fix it. When we are in the presence of a loss that cannot be fixed, which is a great many losses, we feel helpless and uncomfortable and we have a tendency to run away, either emotionally or actually distance ourselves. Yeah. And fixing is too small a strategy to deal with loss, you know.

We teach them the power of their presence, of simply being there and listening and witnessing another person and caring about another person's loss, letting it matter.

This is a quote from Krista Tippett, the host:

“The following passage from Naomi Remen's Kitchen Table Wisdom, … was written with physicians in mind. But it holds a resonant caution and challenge for all of us, I think, as we struggle to face yet not be overwhelmed or numbed by — the pain and suffering that are a fact of human existence near and far.”

"The expectation that we can be immersed in suffering and loss daily and not be touched by it is as unrealistic as expecting to be able to walk through water without getting wet. This sort of denial is no small matter. The way we deal with loss shapes our capacity to be present to life more than anything else. The way we protect ourselves from loss may be the way in which we distance ourselves from life… We burn out not because we don't care but because we don't grieve. We burn out because we've allowed our hearts to become so filled with loss that we have no room left to care."

Let’s begin a conversation about how these concepts apply to us within our work, and how we can create opportunities to discuss these ideas within our workplaces.

No comments: