Clark froze, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened around the steering wheel. ‘What the heck?’ he thought, his gaze fixed on the mailbox of the old home, its soiled contents spilled out on to the rotting porch below it. He turned his attention to the cars in the driveway. Their brilliant red and blue paint jobs shone in the afternoon sun. It appeared as if they both had recently gone through a wash and wax. ‘That’s odd,’ thought Clark. The old, unkempt house stood next to the gleaming vehicles. The gray paint peeled off the siding in some places, and in others there was no siding at all. All the windows of the house had been coated with the same gray paint. ‘The paint on the windows looks fresh,’ Clark noted, his thoughts now racing. He began thinking about the many horror movies that he so loved to watch, the television crime dramas he often binged in his nights alone, and the many other occasions that he lived vicariously as the hero of the story. His focus turned his personal pack. He had gotten a license to carry for a reason; being a postal worker was a dangerous job. He thought about what it would be like to be a real hero, and body trembling, he fished out his gun and stepped out of the truck. He held the gun before him as he crept towards the house, imitating the heroes he watched on TV. Carefully, he stepped up the stairs leading to the porch. The front door was ajar. Quickly, he skittered towards it and pressed against it with his back, just like a TV hero. He leaned too hard. The door swung open, exposing his back to the occupants of the house. They screamed in unison. He heard a man’s yell, deep and aggressive, and a woman’s scream, shrill and defenseless. ‘He is going to kill me,’ Clark thought. Swinging around, Clark hastily pointed the gun towards the sound of the man’s yell and pulled the trigger. A figure fell to the ground. It took several seconds for Clark’s vision to clear. He looked with horror at the scene before him. A man lay naked on the dusty, hardwood floor. He was covered in blood. Crumpled over him lay a naked woman. She was also covered in blood and sobbing heavily. The man’s gaze turned to Clark. “Is that your husband?” he asked the woman. She looked at Clark. “No,” she replied. “Then why did he shoot me?” the man questioned, his voice fading as he gasped for air. The woman stared harder at Clark. The terror in her eyes caused his stomach to knot. “I don’t know,” she cried.
Deep within the forest, a gnome encountered a giant… Gonat glared at the giant. ‘Was he a threat? Could I take him?’ he thought, considering his next move. He was only half of a moon away from his homeland, and he was surrounded by the same trees his people dwelled within. He thought about his family and felt a small knot form in his stomach. ‘They are better off without me,’ he reminded himself. Gronash was confused by the small creature in front of him. The tiny thing should be cowering away; everyone else had. That’s why he hid in the forest. But this creature stood firmly below him, meeting his eyes with its own. ‘He is so small,’ Gronash thought. ‘I could squish him with my small toe. But he thinks he’s big. Why does he think he is big?’ “Why don’t you cower?” Gronash asked Gonat. “Why would I?” Gonat responded. “I am bigger than you,” said Gronash. “So?” shrugged Gonat. “I am stronger than you.” protested Gronash. “Maybe,” Gonat said nodding. “Then, why don’t you cower?” asked Gronash. “Because this is my forest. This is my home. If you decide to fight me, there are only two possible outcomes: either I win and I don’t have to leave my home, or I lose and I don’t have to leave my home. Either way, I remain here in these trees.” Gronash thought about that for a moment, and then he asked, “What is a home?” Gonat sighed, relaxing slightly. ‘I don’t think he is a threat,’ he thought. ‘I think he is just alone because everyone sees him as one.’ “Home is a place that you feel safe,” Gonat said somewhat dreamily. He wasn’t really sure what the definition of home was; he had never felt ‘at home’ with his people. “And a place where you can just be yourself without anyone making you feel bad about it.” Gronash thought about that. “That sounds like a place worth fighting for,” he expressed out loud. Gonat’s body tensed at the word fight. He cocked back his axe and once again glared at the giant. Gronash threw back his head, howling with laughter. In shock, Gonat’s grip on the axe loosened, and the weapon fell to the ground. He fumbled sideways; attempting to grab for the handle while maintaining eye contact with the giant. Gronash laughed harder. “You know what tiny man?” he announced. “I like you. You make me laugh. Do you want to see my tree fort?” Gonat stopped fumbling for his axe. He squinted at the giant, confused. Looking down at the ground, he saw his axe. He picked it up and stared at it. He looked back at the giant’s face towering above him. “You know what? I would love to.”
In Albany there is a weekly gathering called “Spin Jam” where the local (and sometimes not) fire spinners collect, practice, and share skills. It takes place down by the Hudson riverfront where there is also a large homeless population. One evening a drunken homeless man rode his bike into what the spinners refer to as “the Eye” (an eye-shaped section of pavement outlined by bricks of a different color where fire spinning takes place and spectators are not allowed for safety reasons), parked it in the center, and began to look around confused as if lost. Two of the male spinners approached him aggressively; cursing and yelling and demanding that he move. This, of course, turned the man’s expression from confused to matched aggressive. As I sat watching the altercation I thought to myself, “This is going to turn ugly if I don’t do something,” and so I did. I stood up, grabbed my fire hoop, and approached the man. As sweetly as I could I asked, “Excuse me sir? I am trying to spin fire and your bike is in the way. Can you please move?” The man looked from the male spinners to me with the face of a wounded animal ready to attack, and so I repeated the question. His face changed. He still didn’t understand what was going on. He, again, looked confused. “Can you please move your bike?” again I asked, sweetly. His face changed once more. This time it seemed to show relief and the realization that his safety was not being threatened. He moved his bike out of the Eye and rode away. Aggression is (most often) not the tactical solution. There is great strength to be found in softness. This lesson was repeated for me on another occasion: The school by my house was under construction and some of the workers had taken to parking in front of our house to hang out in their cars playing loud music and smoking cigarettes for long periods of time. While I was away one day my partner sent me photos of them, venting his frustrations in an angry and aggressive way. “I don’t even want to be outside anymore! I’m so on edge,” he proclaimed. The next morning just me and my son were in the front yard when the men from the photos pulled up, parked, and lit up their cigarettes. At first, I tensed up; my interaction with my son and our sunflowers now was an unwilling performance to strange men. I felt the anger rising up in me. The audacity of these men to think that they can be such a threat to the privacy of my home. I thought of going inside; of hiding. And then I remembered my power. I began to empathize with the men, recognizing that they didn’t intentionally stir up these feelings in me; they were just trying to enjoy their work break. Going over to the fence I spoke out to them, “Excuse me guys, are you here working on the school?” “Yes,” one replied. “Can you please park closer to the school then?” I asked, sweetly. “Yeah, of course,” he replied. “We’ll park over in the school’s parking lot.” “Thank you so much!” And they drove off! No argument. No aggression. No nonsense. I’ve been told that I am “lucky”; that isn’t so. I am tactical, cunning, and adorable, while also being empathic, and kind, and the combination of these things gives me great power that is often seen as luck.
Healing PTSD Through Yogic Practice When we consider how a regular Yoga practice can improve an individual’s range of motion, most would consider the greatest anatomical factor involved to be an increased flexibility of the muscles, joints, and connective tissue. However, in individuals with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), limited range of motion is often linked to a dysregulation of the autonomic nervous system. The autonomic nervous system (ANS) is a part of the peripheral (outside of the brain) nervous system and is composed of a collection of neurons that receive information from the environment and other parts of the body and regulates the activity of multiple organs (such as the stomach, heart, and lungs) accordingly. The ANS consists of the sympathetic nervous system (SNS) which contains neurons that prepare the body to react to some stimuli in the environment (also known as the “fight or flight” stress response), and the parasympathetic nervous system (PNS), which contains neurons that regulate bodily functions during rest (Kandola). According to the Polyvagal theory, the PNS is divided further into the ventral vagal complex (VVC) and the dorsal vagal complex (DVC). The VVC functions to allow for rest, restoration, and social engagement. The DVC initiates the “freeze” stress response, allowing an individual to shut down during situations that are deemed to be unsafe (Pentz). Within individuals with PTSD, the nervous system has become conditioned to exist in a perpetual state of fear or hypervigilance due to a traumatic experience from their past. During the traumatic event, the SNS was triggered to release stress hormones such as cortisol, quickly shutting down some bodily functions to allow others the necessary energy to try to fight or to flee the situation. In a regulated nervous system, the PNS is able to relax the body after the incident using hormones that slow down the bodily processes that had been hastened by the SNS. However, a traumatic event can “push the nervous system outside its ability to regulate itself” (Pederson). The event causes a few different trauma responses. In the first, the SNS becomes overactive, the fight or flight response is perpetually engaged, and the individual experiences hyperarousal. Symptoms of hyperarousal include irritability, becoming aggressive or angry, sweating, tenseness, becoming paranoid or hypervigilant, having trouble focusing, difficulty sleeping, and trouble controlling the bladder. In the second, the VVC becomes underactivated, the body cannot rest or restore and social functioning is impaired. Symptoms of this include trouble relaxing or being still, higher blood pressure, increased breathing and heart rate, digestive troubles, and difficulty with social engagement such as maintaining eye contact. In the third, the DVC becomes spontaneously activated, entering the freeze response or going into a hypoarousal state during unnecessary occasions. This response causes symptoms known to depression, such as feeling cold, numb, empty or heavy in the body, stiffness, fatigue, brain fog, decreased heart rate, difficulty breathing, a sense of dread or hopelessness, lack of motivation, inability to make decisions, withdrawal from others, and disconnection with the body (Pentz). Regardless of the trauma responses at play, levels of the stress hormones such as cortisol are altered significantly in individuals with PTSD. The adrenal glands, which produce stress hormones, in those with high cortisol levels for extended periods of time can become depleted and lead to an increase in the hormone that causes sensitivity to pain, prolactin, as well as tension in the muscles and joints (PTSD UK). These factors could negatively impact a person’s range of motion and flexibility. During an asana that stretches the muscles of the body, the “stretch tolerance” reflex, a safety implement for avoiding pain, is activated (Sanelli). This reflex may be more easily triggered in those with PTSD due to their increased sensitivity to pain, preventing them from moving as deeply into postures as their bodies may be capable of. Research has suggested that flexibility is heavily reliant on the ability of the ANS to move from a sympathetic state to a parasympathetic state. Otherwise known as the “rest and digest” system, the PNS functions to increase flexibility through relaxing muscles, fascia and other connective tissues, easing the breath, releasing endorphins, increasing blood flow, and reducing both physical and psychological stress levels (Sanelli). However, an individual with a hyperactive SNS and an underactive VVC due to PTSD could experience difficulty reaching this state of relaxed flexibility. On top of this, many individuals with PTSD experience a disassociation or disconnection from their bodies. During a traumatic experience, “[i]f fight-or-flight is not a viable option or if fight-or-flight becomes inactive due to the body feeling overwhelmed, the freeze response is activated” according to Sabina Mauro, PsyD, a specialist in trauma therapy in Yardley, Pennsylvania. During the “freeze” state, the connection between the brain and the body becomes severed, essentially “playing dead” to survive the situation. This disassociation can be long lasting and easily triggered long after the traumatic experience has ended (Gillette). A regular Yoga practice can be incredibly beneficial for individuals with PTSD. According to Swami Rama, “The science of pranayama is thus intimately connected with the autonomic nervous system and brings its functions under conscious control through the mastery of the breath, which requires taking conscious control of the diaphragm… It is for this reason that control of the breath constitutes an obvious starting point toward attainment of control over the functioning of the autonomic nervous system.” During pranayama, the diaphragm stimulates the vagal nerve, encouraging the nervous system into a parasympathetic state (Sanelli). In a Yoga practice the focus is on experiencing the present moment, bringing awareness to the breath, and feeling grounded while in a pose. This awareness interrupts the dysregulation of the nervous system; as one learns to bring their awareness back to the present moment when their mind slips into thinking about past events they learn to self-regulate. Somatic practices that work to establish a mind-body connection, such as Yoga, are beneficial for individuals that have disassociated from their bodies due to trauma, encouraging the practice of breath work, body scans, and meditation that brings awareness to how the body feels and what its needs are (Pentz). However, for these benefits to be experienced, it is important to recognize when the nervous system is triggered into a trauma-response. During practice, always stop a pose if it feels triggering and move into a pose that feels safe or sit cross-legged and focus on breathwork or grounding. Practice with instructors that feel safe, or at home with videos or an app, and clearly state your choice to be touched or physically assisted or not. One’s Yoga practice is in one’s own hands and the journey inward through somatic exercise can be as slow and as gentle as needed to reach the deep, inner wounds within an individual with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. If ”[t]rauma can actually change the structure and function of the brain”, so too could a regular Yoga practice (Gillette). Works Cited Gillette, Hope. “Trauma-Related Dissociation: Symptoms, Treatment, Coping, and More.” Psych Central, 3 Aug. 2021, psychcentral.com/pro/coping-with-trauma-through-dissociation#the-role-of-trauma. Kandola, Aaron. “Autonomic Nervous System: What It Is and How It Works.” Medical News Today, MediLexicon International, 26 June 2023, www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/327450#function. Pederson, Lane. “Parasympathetic Nervous System & Trauma: Mental Health Systems.” MHS, 2 Mar. 2024, www.mhs-dbt.com/blog/parasympathetic-nervous-system-and-trauma/. Pentz, Carliann. “Yoga and Mental Health, the Science of Trauma Recovery and the Brain.” Virtual Therapy Clinic, 26 July 2023, www.virtualtherapyclinic.com/blog/yoga-and-mental-health-the-science-of-trauma-recovery-and-the-brain. Sanelli, Renee. “Yoga, Flexibility and the Nervous System.” Three Trees Yoga, 16 Apr. 2024, www.threetreesyoga.com/yoga-flexibility-and-the-nervous-system/. Swami Rama. “Pranayama and the Autonomic Nervous System.” Himalayan Institute Online, 22 June 2022, himalayaninstitute.org/online/pranayama-and-the-autonomic-nervous-system/. “Unexpected Physical Symptoms of PTSD.” PTSD UK, www.ptsduk.org/10-unexpected-physical-symptoms-of-ptsd/. Accessed 13 Jan. 2025.