Back From the Brink: A Family Guide to Overcoming Traumatic Stress, by Don R. Catherall, Ph.D.
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10

 

HEALING RITUALS

 

It was a quiet spring day in Washington, D.C. The parks were busy but not yet crowded with the throngs of summer tour­ists. At the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the people in front of the Wall moved very slowly, if at all. When they spoke, it was in hushed, almost reverent tones, like tourists at a religious monument. The top of the Wall is at ground level; the panels are highest in the center and taper down as they approach each end. This causes the observer to walk down below ground level and then back up again at the other end.

 

The Wall is made of a deep, black polished granite that reflects the figures standing and kneeling in front of it. The reflections become background to the names engraved in the granite. There are objects on the ground leaning against the Wall—flowers here, small American flags there, letters, a figurine, an old camouflage shirt, a framed citation, and pho­tographs. People reach out and touch the Wall, gingerly trac­ing a name with their fingertips. At one point, a man holds up a small boy so that he may touch a name; at another point, a teenager steadies a piece of paper while another teen rubs the side of a pencil against it to obtain a copy of the name underneath.

 

To the right of center, a couple with two preteen children are studying the names. The father draws his finger down a section, row by row. After a few moments, he turns and nods to his daughter, and she places a wicker basket in front of the Wall. Her mother then nods to the boy, who bends down and drops a letter and several photos into the basket. The father steps back to watch, and the mother takes his hand. The little boy stands and surveys his work, then glances up at his par­ents. The father releases the mother's hand and renders a brief salute. They all stand quietly a moment longer, then they turn to their right and walk slowly down the walkway.

 

Rituals as Structures for Healing

 

If you've never been to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the above scene may sound a little unreal. It's not. The me­morial is a very spiritual place, and a lot of healing takes place there. I am particularly familiar with it, but there are many such places of healing. Societies build memorials in an effort to heal from social traumas—whether for thousands lost in a war or for one who meant so much to many, such as the memorial to John Kennedy at the point where he was shot in front of the Texas School Book Depository. We often memorialize the location of a trauma; if we don't know the actual location, then we "memorialize" one designated to represent the trauma.

 

We imbue the memorial with the significance of the trauma, and it takes on the power to evoke many of our feel­ings about the trauma. In effect, the location of the memorial—a grave, a religious structure, a monument—becomes sa­cred to us. In our minds, it takes on a very specific meaning, dedicated to one purpose. When others disregard the special meaning we've assigned a location, we can be terribly of­fended—an example is the sensitivity of the New York firemen about the site of the World Trade Center disaster. They lost nearly 400 comrades at that site; it is now sacred to the individuals who survived that event and probably will remain a sacred location for many future generations. For all of us, it is a reminder of the selflessness and courage of those who risk their lives to rescue others.

 

It helps the grieving process if we have a specific place to focus our grief and an opportunity to share it with others. We build churches and temples in order to pray together, and many people designate corners of their homes for spiritual purposes. These tangible places help us to enter domains of feeling that aren't easy to experience. We're able to experi­ence them when we have the stimulus of going together to a funeral or laying a headstone. Much of the communication at such times is nonverbal—a hug, a pat, a squeeze, a hand­shake, or a caring look. Rituals prescribe some of the verbal communication, so we have a lot of help in expressing diffi­cult feelings.

 

When Richard died in an auto accident, he left a wife and three children. His wife, Gloria, was very busy the day of the funeral, arranging for the family to entertain a large number of visitors afterward. A number of friends helped out by bringing food and picking up out‑of‑town relatives who flew in for the service. Her three children also busily helped with the preparations. At the service, Gloria was escorted to her seat by her son Philip, who was ten. The elder daughter, Melissa, who was twelve, had written a poem, which was printed up and handed out at the door. And the younger daughter, Mandy, seven, carried a rose up and laid it on her father's coffin before the service began.

 

When people "paid their respects" and visited after the service, considerable food and refreshments awaited them. Each guest waited his or her turn to speak to Gloria and "offer their condolences." Almost all these people shook her hand, but more often they held her hand in both of theirs and/or hugged her. It was usually during the hugs that Gloria would tear up and cry for a moment. Most of these people also spoke to the children. Several times, a number of people gathered and talked about what a fine person Richard had been. More than once, there was laughter as the conversa­tion focused on humorous memories of Richard. Upon leav­ing, a number of people commented to Gloria that they would be seeing her again soon. Several families made plans to do something with Melissa, Philip, and Mandy within the coming week.

 

As you can see, many ritualized behaviors accompanied this funeral. The rituals weren't limited to the service itself; indeed, most of them occurred outside the actual ceremony. But from beginning to end, from the clothes worn to the food eaten, the day was full of rituals. Without them, that large number of people would not have known what to do. There would never have been such an opportunity for so many people to explicitly express their caring to this family. Rituals provided a structure for the healing that took place between these people.

 

The Healing Power of Rituals

 

Rituals are activities that serve the same function as memorials. They facilitate the processing of difficult feelings; they allow us to experience those feelings and consider the meanings of emotional issues while reducing our anxiety over what to say and do. I consider rituals to be a major element in healing from trauma. Although healing rituals often take place at established memorials, they aren't limited to them. Just as any place can be memorialized, rituals can be adapted to fit any situation.

 

This chapter focuses on rituals that contribute to the process of healing from traumatization, which means primarily those dealing with loss, transition, and transformation. These rituals help us to focus on selected powerful symbols; grieve the losses; relinquish life stages and periods associated with the trauma; experience and express emotions related to the trauma; and develop new ways of viewing ourselves.

 

Existing rituals for dealing with loss include funerals and wakes. Those for dealing with transitions include graduations and retirement dinners. And those for dealing with the transformation of a person include fasting and baptism. But these existing rituals are not the only healing rituals available to you. You can also create your own.

 

Creating Healing Rituals

 

When you create healing rituals, don't ignore those that already exist. Rather, start by thinking about ways you can draw upon the power of existing rituals and symbols and adapt them to your own healing process. Here are some of the common aspects of effective healing rituals.

 

1. Healing Rituals Always Involve Symbolism

 

The power of symbols is that they can be used to represent intangibles. A gravestone represents the intangible thing that we call a loss. A little pin on the lapel of a jacket can represent membership in a group, such as Holocaust survivors or American citizens. Once you've imbued a particular thing with the power to symbolize an intangible, you can express feelings about that intangible through the way you treat the symbol. You can slip the ring on your spouse's finger happily, or you can angrily throw it on the floor, indicating very different feelings about your marital bond. Every effective healing ritual involves symbols.

 

In June 1986, 1 participated in a very powerful public healing ritual—the Chicago Vietnam Veterans Welcome Home Parade. The vets were all decked out in symbols of their service: jungle fatigues, hats, boots, dog tags, medals, and other military insignia. Non-veterans walking in the parade held pictures over their heads as symbols of the loved ones they lost in the war. Bystanders waved flags and threw confetti from the windows to symbolize their support. These people may not have been thinking of themselves as using symbols, but they certainly were. As a result, the parade was a powerful ritual.

 

If the ritual is to evoke feelings about a trauma, the trauma must be symbolized as a part of the ritual. Some people actually recreate the trauma, such as by the reenactment of Civil War battles. For others, the symbol is a more passive reminder, such as the names on the Wall. Sometimes people need to perform symbolic actions with the symbol of their trauma. Rituals of burning and/or burying photos and drawings of a trauma can be helpful in putting it behind.

 

When Pablo, Raul, and Manuel (whom we met in Chap­ter 7) were asked by their therapist to draw their impressions of what had happened to their father, the therapist took each boy's drawing and locked it in his desk. The drawings were not shown to other family members. Instead, they were even­tually burned in a ritual with the boys' mother Juanita and the therapist.

 

2. Prepare for the Ritual

 

The notion of preparing for the ritual is important—in fact, it's really part of the ritual. We build up to a ritual through a preparatory process that contributes to its power to influence us. Holiday rituals often require several days of preparation during which we decorate, cook and clean, and create symbols for the ceremony. Going through this process gets us "in the mood" and contributes to our ability to launch into the proper feelings at the time of the ceremony. It's important that everyone play a part in this preparatory process because doing so makes it much easier to experience the sharing in an effective ritual. People who show up only for the ceremony may not become integrated into the group or get as much out of the ritual. Parents intuitively know to include children in the preparatory process for rituals. Glo­ria's children prepared for their day of rituals in a number of ways: by dressing appropriately, writing a poem, picking out the flowers, and practicing walking down the aisle.

 

3. Everyone Must Be Involved

 

It's essential to include everyone in preparing for a ritual and in enacting it. Rituals involve action, and everyone must feel that he or she has a part to play in it. Even ordinary actions are understood to mean something extraordinary for the purpose of the ritual. For example, eating and drinking take on a very different meaning when they're performed in the Communion ritual of a Christian church. And rituals in­volve feelings—we feel something as a result of participating in the ritual. The feelings associated with a trauma can run the gamut, so it's not only sadness that you will see at a trauma healing ritual. Ever notice how people cry at wed­dings and smile at funeral receptions? Both of those rituals allow for many different feelings to be experienced. Further­more, bear in mind that the ritual is for everyone—not just the trauma survivor—and that everyone will have feelings about the experience.

 

Joey's family's response to his fears about the fire is an excellent example of getting everyone involved. The entire family came up with ideas and planned the rituals of visiting the fire station, having fire drills, and playing with toy fire engines. A therapist might do these kinds of things with a child individually. But I believe a response like this by the entire family has much more immediate impact than therapy sessions with a stranger.

 

4. Choose the Setting for the Ritual

 

Locating the ritual at a site that is a reminder of the trauma can evoke the trauma without any further symbols. This site could be the place of the trauma or other locations that have been memorialized and consequently dedicated to the trauma. The timing of the ritual can also create an evoca­tive setting; anniversaries of a trauma are times that we are inevitably reminded of it. Getting together with other survi­vors of the trauma establishes a similarly evocative setting. Whenever enough survivors get together, they are likely to perform some ritual in honor of the trauma—if nothing more, a toast to lost companions.

 

On the tenth anniversary of her traumatic abortion, Dale returned to the site of the abortion clinic with her husband Ed. They went back through all the same rooms and saw many details that had been "invisible" to Dale the first time. Afterward, they went for a quiet meal and talked about the feelings that surfaced as a result of their visit—a visit made particularly powerful by its timing.

 

5. Rituals of Transformation Are Seldom Easy

 

Rituals of transformation serve to help people change their image of themselves. But in order for a ritual to do this, you must endow that ritual with a great deal of power, like the power you give to a relationship when you allow it to matter to you. You become invested in it and you put a lot of energy into it. If a relationship or a ritual requires no effort on your part, you may take it for granted. But if you must invest yourself in it and work at it, you place greater value on it. Some rituals of transformation are physically grueling, such as the Outward Bound movement, while others draw their power from an emotional investment, such as baptism. Often you must prepare lavishly for the ceremonial part of the ritual, such as a bar mitzvah.

 

I think that one of the best examples of transformation rituals is the American Indian sweat lodge ceremony. It's a ritual of purification, during which the participants enter a tent filled with steam created by putting water on rocks that have been heated in a fire. It's a grueling experience that requires a deep commitment and can involve several days of preparation. It usually includes fasting and other forms of self‑denial and can produce visions and altered states of con­sciousness. When it's over, participants report their experi­ences as deeply meaningful and there's an experience of having been changed.

 

6. The Need for Experts

 

Some healing rituals can be conducted with your own family or friends. But most rituals of transformation are con­ducted by established guides, such as a priest or a drill ser­geant. Many transformation rituals are too demanding to pursue without an established guide to help you. 

 

Colonel Bob Rheault is the innovative developer of a rit­ual that is used by several VA hospitals' in‑patient stress units. He takes groups of Vietnam veterans with PTSD on an Outward Bound experience, climbing mountains and negoti­ating "confidence" courses on ropes high in the air. After a few days on these trips, many of the veterans report pro­found experiences of transformation. Similarly, Vietnam vet­erans have participated in American Indian sweat lodge ceremonies and other rituals of purification. Many find these to be profound experiences, helping them to stop thinking of themselves as victims, thereby transforming their self-­images.

 

The "guide" in these rituals is usually someone who has already undergone the transformation and can be believed in. Colonel Rheault was at one time commander of all Spe­cial Forces in Vietnam; Indian experts were "guides" in the sweat lodge ceremonies. The ritual may not have the same power if you don't think that the guide is knowledgeable.

 

The implications of this requirement must be considered as you develop your own healing rituals. If you're trying to develop a ritual of transformation, it helps to include some­one who is an authority on the transformation. Of course, the "guide's" authority lies in the perception of the participants. For example, some people feel properly married if a judge performs the ceremony, while others require a clergyman.

 

7. Your Family's Style

 

If you want to develop healing rituals to deal with your family's traumatization, first consider the ways your family has dealt with losses, transitions, and transformations. (And think about your family's rules concerning the expression of emotion, which we discussed in Chapter 3.) What is your unique role in the rituals? How does the nature of the ritual change your role? Here are some questions that can help you get a picture of your family's style:

 

Transitions and Celebrations

 

·        What holidays do you actually celebrate (not just take off work)? Thinking about holidays usually brings an instant image of your family's holiday rituals.

 

·        What are the typical ways your family celebrates birthdays, achievements, and transitions?

 

·        Do such celebrations usually involve food, drink, and physical activities?

 

·        What are the special places where you celebrate?

 

·        Who is usually included?

 

·        Do people sing, make speeches, give toasts, or tell stories?

 

·        What role does each family member play? Is there a director, an audience, someone who does the majority of crying for the family or expresses all the sentiments?

 

·        Does your family have a cultural or ethnic tradi­tion that determines how these events are con­ducted?

 

Loss

 

·        How does your family handle loss?

 

·        If relatives have died, how were the ceremonies conducted?

 

·        Who directed the ceremonial aspects of the ritual ‑family members or experts?

 

·        Is it typical for everyone to talk about their feel­ings, or do some individuals tend to speak on be­half of all?

 

·        What "props" are usually involved‑flowers, photos, written speeches?

 

Transformations

 

·        What is your family's history of transformations? What are the pervasive stories about momentous incidents in the lives of family members, particu­larly from your parents' time and that of earlier generations?

 

·        Does your family emphasize educational experi­ences, religious experiences, or other worldly pursuits? Do your parents attribute their life choices to their belief in God, graduation from college, military service, or what?

 

·        Are there family stories about events that changed the lives of family members, such as the summer Grandpa worked for the railroad or the time the family's home burned? If so, can you identify the rituals that the family members employed at the time?

 

Now that you have some sense of your fam­ily's rituals for dealing with common losses, transitions, and transformations, consider how these elements appear in more powerful family events—like trauma.

 

Past Traumas

 

·        What are the stories about past traumas your fam­ily has experienced?

 

·        What were those traumas, and how were they handled?

 

·        Do your parents identify the Depression or the war or some other major event as particularly sig­nificant in determining who they are today? If so, how did they (and their own families) respond to that event?

 

·        What rituals did the family perform to overcome these historical traumas?

 

·        Might these past traumas still be partly un­resolved?

 

·        How much does the current trauma resemble the past trauma? Is it stirring up old wounds?

 

My goal is not to make you obsessively concerned with how your family works. Rather, I want to increase your awareness that you already have a family legacy of rituals, rules, and patterns for dealing with loss, transition, transfor­mation, and perhaps even traumatization. You have some of these resources available to you now. Think about how these existing resources, particularly the rituals, can be adapted to help you and your family deal with the trauma that you're currently confronting.

 

A Healing Ritual for Your Trauma

 

Now I would like to talk about actually creating a ritual for your family to deal with its traumatization. Your ritual should include some elements from the rituals you've devel­oped for dealing with transition, transformation, and loss. All of these are involved in overcoming the effects of traumatiza­tion. Designing and conducting a ritual is something that you can all do together, whether you are a traumatized individ­ual or a family member of one. Begin by gathering the tools that we've already discussed:

 

·        the existing repertoire of rituals your family has used over the years;

 

·        the elements of effective rituals (listed earlier); and

 

·        the participation of everyone who is part of the family or other group that has been affected by the traumatization.

 

Your goal is to design rituals that address the specific traumatization that has affected your family, and to gear those rituals to the unique culture that is your family. The ritual you design will be solely yours, reflecting the unique characteristics of your family, though it may share many ele­ments with the rituals of others.

 

It may be helpful to take a pencil and paper and write down your answers to each of the following eight sets of questions. Devote a full sheet of paper to each set, even if you answer only one or two questions. Once you've gone through them all, pick and choose from each page to design an ap­propriate ritual. Making written lists of the necessary ele­ments can aid in the difficult task of creating the ritual.

 

Remember, this task will be most effective if the entire family is involved—the process of designing a family ritual can itself be part of healing. Engaging in this process may bring to the surface some of the conflicts and different per­ceptions among family members and give you an opportunity to reach a better mutual understanding.

 

1. Specify the Trauma

 

What exactly has traumatized your family? It helps to be precise here. Was there a specific trauma, a series of trau­mas, or a stressful period? Was an individual traumatized, several individuals, or the entire family? Did it involve peo­ple from outside the family? (You may want to include certain outsiders in your healing rituals.)

 

Identifying the specific nature of the trauma will be sim­ple for many people, more complicated for others. But you should be able to point your finger at an event or series of events that you feel caused the trauma. If there are multiple traumas that do not cluster easily, you may need to break them down into separate traumas.

 

2. Specify Who Was Affected by the Trauma and How

 

Everyone was affected by the traumatization in some fashion, but it can be helpful to sit down and think about exactly how each family member was affected. Do some members feel unsafe, or lack trust in strangers (or in other family members)? Do they lack hopefulness about the future and illusions of security? Do they feel guilty or enraged, or simply feel stuck in the past? What particular issues has trau­matization induced in each individual family member? As you identify these issues, think about what you would like a ritual to achieve for each family member.

 

3. Specify How the Entire Family Was Affected

 

What is different about the family as a whole now? Is there a general numbing of emotions, a lack of connected­ness among family members, a pervasive sadness, an up­surge in conflict, a loss of intimacy, fun, or hope? Do people no longer do things that they used to do together? Has there been an increase in activities that have a low degree of shar­ing—such as television watching? Are individuals going out­side the family more? Does the family eat together, go to religious services, or play together as much as they used to?

 

Again, listing these changes can help you to think con­cretely about what you would like a ritual to achieve for your family. You can't expect everything to change as a result of a ritual, but this list will focus your thinking and help you to plan a ritual that is relevant to your needs.

 

4. Specify the Existing Public Rituals Available

 

What existing public rituals are associated with events like the one you're trying to heal? Have you taken advantage of these existing rituals? If your trauma was public and af­fected others, have you attended memorial services, visited sacred sites, or otherwise participated in organized ceremo­nies? If not, why not? It is very important to answer this question. Do your family members have attitudes that make it difficult for them to take advantage of the public healing rituals? Such attitudes must be identified and discussed; they can interfere in your own rituals as well as prevent you from getting something out of the public ones.

 

5. Develop Symbols for the Trauma

 

Once you have identified the trauma and its effects, think about ways to symbolize the trauma. A loss can be symbol­ized by finding or creating a reminder of what was lost. Often a loss is quite tangible, but the beauty of symbols is that losses that are actually intangible can be given tangible re­minders. Thus, the loss of illusions of security might be sym­bolized by an unlocked door, a picture of a child confidently leaping into a parent's arms, or a photo of an infant sleeping peacefully. The loss of dreams might be symbolized by a fac­simile of a diploma, a model of a building that was planned, a clipping about a successful athlete, or a series of pictures of a child growing up or a couple growing old together.

 

Most of the healing rituals you design will involve sym­bols of what has been lost and probably symbols of change, but they may not include the idea of transition and transfor­mation. But if you're trying to put together one major ritual for your family, I urge you to create one that includes all three components. Your survivor will only profit from an "ordeal" if she finds it meaningful—not just an arbitrary idea that you came up with. Placing the healing ritual in the broader framework of transformation can help to "legiti­mize" your endeavor.

 

Symbols for transitions, as the completion of a life stage, usually include symbols of both the old stage and the new. It is cadets throwing their old hats into the air, to be replaced with new hats with a different insignia. A rape survivor might wear two roses, one closed and one open to symbolize her transition from being withdrawn and fearful back to feel­ing more open and uninhibited. It is "something old, some­thing new"—a traditional symbol of change.

 

Transformations are symbolized by the old‑new symbol of the transition and by a symbol of the ordeal of the trans­formation itself. The ordeal aspect may be largely symbolic, such as being held underwater in a baptism, or it may be quite demanding, as in the sweat lodge ceremony. But it's there to show that the individual has put himself through a grueling process in order to achieve this transformation. A transformation can not simply be awarded—it must be earned.

 

6. Perform Symbolic Actions of Parting with the Past

 

One of the primary goals of a healing ritual—after ac­knowledging the trauma and reexperiencing it—is to accept the fact of the traumatization, then let it go. For example, the flag used in a military funeral is folded and given to the next of kin—it is taken out of use and put away permanently. When you enact rituals of loss and transition, you symbolize what was lost, then you bury it, destroy it, give it away, or otherwise indicate that it's no longer part of your life. When you symbolize losing something during a ritual, you say good‑bye to it. This action helps you resolve your grief and relinquish the past so that you can be more open to the fu­ture.

 

7. Perform Symbolic Actions of Becoming Something New

 

It's easier to relinquish the past if you have something to replace it with—or else you'll have little motivation to give it up. You must feel that you have a future if you're really going to overcome your traumatization. A symbol can help you rec­ognize and accept the differences between the past and the future. For example, the family that loses a member stands together at the funeral—symbolizing the new family that they have become. They're not just the old family without a mem­ber, they're a new family—a smaller one. If a person loses the use of his legs, a wheelchair may come to symbolize part of who he is now. It need not be only a reminder of what he has lost; it can represent the way he gets around now.

 

Many families find it easier to symbolize what was lost than to symbolize what lies ahead. Leaving an empty place at the table for the one who is gone is a powerful symbol of the loss and can mobilize the sadness. But the family that contin­ues to eat with that empty place at the table sits too far apart to function as a family. In order to function now, they must remove the empty place and establish a new seating arrange­ment. To do this effectively, they may have to remove a leaf from the table or even buy a new table.

 

8. Plan the Ritual as a Family

 

The plans for the ritual must specify every person's part in it. Some parts may be much smaller than others, but it's terribly important that everyone participate. When Mandy placed the flower on her father's casket, she participated ev­ery bit as much as the adult who delivered the eulogy.

 

Examples of Healing Rituals

 

The kinds of healing rituals people create are as varied as the traumas themselves. Some take advantage of existing formal rituals conducted by community institutions such as churches. Others create their own unique rituals with highly defined roles for everyone involved. Still others perform in­formal rituals that occur spontaneously in settings that tend to remind them of the trauma.

 

You're likely to pursue your own healing ritual in the ways to which you are most accustomed—formal or infor­mal, unique or conventional—and with which you are most comfortable. There is no exact recipe, no single right way to have a healing ritual. Rather, you must work with the ingre­dients you have at hand and put them together in ways that feel comfortable to you.

 

Here are some examples of healing rituals that other people have produced. They range from highly planned and structured ceremonies to more spontaneous events that only contain a few of the elements I've identified.

 

After Lynn was mugged in the big city and became fearful of going out, some of Lynn's fears and insecurities from early in her life were unearthed. When she was four years old, she had been taken from the security of her grandparents' farm to a major city. After this wrenching experience, she adapted to living without her grandparents. But the memory of them continued to be a source of security for her, representing the secure feeling that she would be taken care of and didn't have to live in fear. After her mugging, Lynn often felt the same feelings of insecurity that she had felt after leaving the farm.

 

Lynn made many changes after the mugging that contributed to her feeling safer. She began to make pilgrimages to her deceased grandparents' farm and eventually arranged for some of the other young people who also grew up there to join her. She renewed contacts with old friends and distant relatives from that early time of her life. During her visits, she spent long hours communing with the peaceful atmosphere of her childhood sanctuary. Here, a lot of Lynn's adult healing took place.

 

Lynn never defined what she was doing as performing a ritual. From her point of view, her traumatization had simply renewed her interest in her grandparents, the farm, and that period of her life. Making the trips and renewing old ties simply felt good and seemed to make sense. It's an excellent example of how we utilize informal rituals without realizing it.

 

Catherine was a young girl who was molested at a preschool. Her parents were very responsive to her fears and took many actions to help her feel more secure, but she and her parents remained preoccupied with the incident. Some of the older children were testifying in court against the accused molester, but despite being a mature four and a half Catherine was considered to be too young to be a credible witness. Her parents placed her in therapy, where she acted out the molestation a number of times. Though she didn't testify, the police did interview her and stayed in contact with her parents and therapist.

 

Catherine's difficulty moving beyond the trauma eventually led her mother to come up with the idea of doing a heal­ing ritual for her. The policeman who had been talking to Catherine was asked to participate along with the therapist, the parents, and a social worker. The ritual consisted of a pretend trial in which the policeman would play the role of the judge, and Catherine would have the opportunity to tes­tify. Catherine prepared for the trial by learning what hap­pens in trials and what roles the judges, attorneys, and witnesses play. When the day of the "trial" arrived, Cather­ine approached the situation quite seriously. She knew it was not a real trial, but it was nevertheless a very important event for her. She asked to see the policeman's gun, which seemed to satisfy her that he had the proper authority.

 

The "trial" went very well; Catherine had her day in court. She talked openly about the molestation. The "judge" listened carefully and told her that he would take care of the "bad man." Catherine was worried that the "bad man" would be punished too severely, possibly fearing the revenge that molesters commonly threaten children with in order to keep them silent. The "judge" assured her that he already knew about this "bad man," that it wasn't only Catherine's testimony that was going to get him in trouble. The impor­tant thing was that he was going to see to it that the "bad man" did not hurt any more children. This seemed to satisfy Catherine. Afterward there was an air of relief, and she made greater progress in letting go of the traumatization.

 

This example contains the standard elements of a heal­ing ritual. The power of the symbols of justice are worth not­ing. This four‑and‑a‑half‑year‑old girl had already learned that policemen carry real guns as a symbol of their power. It's also noteworthy that this ritual was created almost en­tirely by the mother, though it required the participation of a number of outside "experts." This mother knew her daughter better than anyone else and understood what she needed in order to bring some closure to the trauma. Catherine contin­ued to have to deal with what had happened to her, but her preoccupation with it changed after the "trial." It became a part of her past and no longer her whole life.

 

Karen, as an eight‑year‑old, lost her mother to an accidental death. Her father was a hardy person who was able to carry the family through the months following the death. Karen and Karen's younger brother busily pursued many activities with him in which he filled the role of their mother. But Karen's father discovered that there were some activities in which he simply could not replace their mother. One of these was Valentine's Day, when Karen frequently said that her mother used to make Valentine cards for her. Karen's father felt at a loss until he came up with the idea of having the family make a Valentine card and wreath and place it on the grave. Karen's father discovered that this ritual had a beneficial effect on the entire family, including himself.

 

This is just a small example of how we can use symbols, rituals, and memorials to help us get past traumatization. When someone dies, life goes on for the survivors. But periodically, we encounter reminders that revive our feelings of loss, especially holidays and anniversaries. It's usually necessary to memorialize the loss on these days before we can experience them without being brought down by our memories. The stories of Catherine and Karen highlight the power of rituals to put a trauma to rest, "achieving closure." Rituals are especially important with children since they generally need to be able to perform actions in order to achieve closure. (Indeed therapy with children generally involves less talk and more action than therapy with adults.)

 

These rituals are fairly unstructured; not even the mock trial followed the rigid form we usually associate with rituals. The following structured ritual was specifically designed by the participants in order to get over a trauma.

 

Peter and Janice had been married for nearly fourteen years and had four children. Peter was a successful professional and a good provider. When they married, Janice had dropped out of law school in order to support Peter while he finished graduate school. She had hoped to return to school after Peter graduated and was working, but like many wives, she shelved the idea after she started having children. She didn't have great regrets about this since she found consider­able satisfaction in being a homemaker.

 

After fourteen years, Janice discovered that Peter had been having affairs. She was traumatized by her discovery and felt that her sacrifices and her years of marriage had been wasted.

 

They entered marital therapy. Peter was contrite and ac­knowledged that he had hurt Janice and owed her. Still, their future as a couple was in doubt for some time. Eventually, Janice announced her desire to resume her schooling and finish her law degree. Peter showed his sincere desire to make up for what he'd done by cutting back to work part­-time so that he could stay home with the children while Janice studied and attended classes. Within two years, Janice completed her degree and passed the bar. The family went on several trips together, and things seemed to be much bet­ter. But the trauma was not yet closed for Janice. She contin­ued to find it difficult to be close to Peter, and she still felt the first fourteen years of their marriage had been ruined. She said she felt as though she would like to be divorced and married all over again so that they could start over with a "clean slate."

 

Janice didn't really want to put herself and her children through a divorce, but she did feel the need for some way to bury the past and start anew. Their therapist suggested creat­ing a ceremony that might symbolize this transition without requiring the upheaval of a divorce. Janice enthusiastically responded to the suggestion, and Peter was willing, though initially he didn't think it would be any big deal. But as they decided what to do and then prepared for it, Peter discovered it was taking on a lot of importance for him as well. He ended up going to even greater lengths than Janice to find the appropriate symbols to include in the ceremony.

 

On the day of the ritual, Peter and Janice and their ther­apist went to the nearby shore of a lake. They first made a fire out of several things that Peter had brought, including an invitation to their wedding, several wedding pictures, and a broken frame containing the vows they had written for the wedding. The frame had been smashed by Janice during one of their fights following the discovery of the affairs. Interest­ingly, Peter had picked up the broken frame and saved it. After setting these things on fire, they kissed and each made a brief speech. Next they walked over to the water and threw their wedding bands into the lake (ouch). Again, they each made a brief speech about getting rid of the past and starting anew. They kissed, longer this time. They started holding hands as they walked and began acting downright giddy. Fi­nally, they walked to a Dumpster and Peter placed a fancy jacket where any interested person could retrieve it. He had worn the jacket on his excursions with other women, and Janice was particularly pleased that he was getting rid of it.

 

Losses can't be relinquished until a certain amount of mourning has been done. A ritual can act as a catalyst to bring the mourning to the surface and create the opportunity for people to share in the experience. Peter had been growing sadder and sadder as the ceremony approached, and the prospect of throwing away their wedding bands made him feel as if he really had wasted those fourteen years. For the first time, he had begun to understand how Janice felt. And yet actually throwing away the bands proved to be very easy for both of them. It didn't make them sad—it released them from sadness.

 

By the time the ritual was over, Janice and Peter both felt unburdened. Indeed, Janice relinquished her preoccupa­tion with Peter's broken vows. This powerful example of "cleaning the slate" with a ritual didn't occur until two years of work had been done, in which Peter changed his cheating ways, they both learned to communicate better, they pro­cessed what had happened, and Peter made major changes in his career to help Janice finish school.

 

Rituals are not magic—they can't fix everything in a sin­gle golden moment. But they can be a sort of peak experience in the larger process of recovery, which includes examining and processing the trauma, mourning the losses, dealing with symptoms, rebuilding a damaged sense of self, and re­joining society.