Blog by Valerie
‘We are cycles of time’ stuck in my head after reading a Chinese astrological perspective on the lunar new year before bed. I couldn’t sleep, and my seven month old has been struggling before bed recently too, getting a burst of energy after indicating she’s sleepy. Though neither of us knows quite how to best help her settle, we’re getting there.
I knew in my pregnancy that my nervous system was overloaded. I spent the first few months exhausted and unable to get out of bed, processing a load of grief, only some of which felt like mine. I felt the absence of my mother, grandmothers and wise aunties in a deeper way then. I lost them all to trauma. No one in my family has accepted that I was sexually abused, because no one can handle their own triggers and emotions around that being true. Their paths of denial have, from my perspective, all been painful and tragic.
My dad died from a repeat bout of cancer soon after I told his whole family that one of theirs was my abuser. One grandmother had multiple nervous system disorders, the other lived under such oppression that her back was curved into a C shape from the weight of what she carried on her shoulders. My mother increasingly took so many psychiatric pills to numb her pain that she could no longer be human with me.
Professionally I have done restorative justice with survivors of clergy sex abuse and clergy of integrity who wish to take responsibility on behalf of the Church. I have also chosen to heal some of my own child sex abuse trauma by doing empathic dialogues with sex offenders and their family members as research, to understand their experiences and therefore see my own in a new light. I’ve worked in child welfare and domestic violence, in developed and developing countries.
So it’s fair to say that I have seen plenty of intergenerational trauma playing out in mine and other people’s lives. It’s particularly humbling to see it play out now, as a mother with my baby. But once I realize that’s what’s happening, I know we will have to ride this cycle of time out. And I feel grateful all the trauma I inherited and grew up with led me to learning how to work with that tough, powerful energy. (Image from here)
Before feeling ready to become a parent, I worked hard over many years to process trauma and heal, to live differently than I was raised. I know from my PhD on indigenous trauma healing that altering consciousness is an important part of healing. And I still meditate throughout the day, with my baby, often when she’s feeding and sleeping on me. I know that I’m not in control of the triggers, and that working with the land to ground my memories eases my load.
This past weekend our landlords, who did some work to baby proof the house we’re renting, shocked us by giving us notice, saying they don’t feel like they can keep our baby safe on their property, and they’re scared about liability should something happen to her. I had no such fear here. We’re living rurally, and both my partner and I grew up in big cities.
This felt like a bait and switch and really surprised me, because as a mother keeping my baby safe is primarily my responsibility. I had just finished baby proofing the house and setting up safe play areas for her to crawl, buying some carpet and even paying to get the floors super clean and ready for the baby to scoot around on.
I didn’t sleep well for a few nights after the notice, wondering if we did something wrong, why this is happening, though the landlords said they have no complaints about us. And then it hit me. My first recovered memory of child sex abuse was my uncle and his wife touching me in a baby bath. I must’ve been about the age my daughter is now. And our landlords seem to be, for reasons of their own that I don’t know, playing out some of this fear and rejection energy with us.
We all attract what we need to grow and heal. Looking through mother’s eyes I’ve been finding it increasingly harder to relate to my family’s choices in caring for me. It’s hard to need support and know not only that they can’t help me, but that I need support because I now have the responsibility of both processing the trauma I carry from my childhood and inheritance, as well as trying to show up differently for my baby.
Childbirth was a clear example of this struggle for me. We planned a home birth with the support of a local doula and a virtual midwife who was on call for us during the birth. She also helped us prepare, mostly emotionally and mentally. I had done birth regression healing previously, yet ninety percent of what I experienced in childbirth was witnessing my own birth and my mother’s lack of consciousness and connection with me – not my connection with my baby, though I could feel their presence and had a knowing that she was okay.
I have felt a lot of grief that so much of my energy in the pregnancy and birth, and even as a young mother now, is about processing trauma and grief instead of just being in the moment enjoying my baby. Though I feel nervous about looking for housing, packing and moving, I realize we’re all a cycle in time. And though it’s tough, my role now is to process as much trauma and ground as much nervous energy as I can so my baby has more opportunity to be present with their child in the next cycle.
Reflecting on these cycles, I remember that the article about Chinese astrology said that the last year of the water rabbit was 1963, when Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. made his famous I Have a Dream speech. I grew up in Atlanta, and he’s long been a hero to me. Yet this lunar new year cycle started with a lot of violence at it’s celebrations in California, and among African Americans in Memphis, the city where Dr. King was killed.
Intergenerational trauma plays out in so many layers. And we’re all in this together. I’m reminded of other wise words from Dr. King:
“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as a Michaelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.”
I’m holding steady as best I can, bringing compassion, grounding, and unconditional love and acceptance to all the trauma that shows up. And I hope one day when she’s a parent, my baby feels that I swept our street well and gave them tools to survive these trauma cycles of time.
If you value this content, please engage in reciprocity by living, sharing and giving.
Trauma’s meaning, causes and methods of healing differ by culture and 
Reconnecting to the Earth
Our task as healers is to allow alchemy to occur so that sh*t we are carrying in our hearts, minds, bodies and spirits can instead turn into fertiliser for ourselves and others. By consciously choosing to move into terror and aversion/disgust when we are in a safe space, we can reconnect with lost soul parts. In doing so, we gain knowledge that expands our individual and collective understanding of ourselves and our world. This is seen as the sacred calling underlying a ‘shaman’s illness’. Trauma is seen as a spiritual offering of a huge amount of energy that can redirect us into a new identity like a phoenix rising out of ashes. Indigenous healers are called ‘medicine people’ or ‘shamans’ because through healing trauma we embody medicine by living in a wiser way and offering support to others who are struggling through similar wounds.
The dialogue of that name was with my friend 
Shona (Zimbabwean) Australian woman 
This “mere existence” of Aboriginal people as humans worthy of dignity collapses the entire ‘legal’ foundation of the Australian nation. The High Court overturned 
When I hear 
In social environments, it seems to feel proportionally less safe to be oneself the farther we identify from collective norms and ideals. There is a concept in mathematics called ‘regression to the mean’. It is basically the idea that when you put some ice into a glass of water, the ice will tend to melt and take the form of the water; in essence, it is about assimilating into a collective norm. Yet assimilation is a dirty word for many people, because we want to celebrate our uniqueness as well as being part of a peoples. (Image from 
Feeling safe to celebrate our difference depends on culture and context. These social wounds keep us trapped and unable to trust ourselves, each other, non-humans, and Spirit/God/oneness. Our capacities to heal and seek retribution are also based on cultural values and intergenerational traumas. Cultures that are more welcoming of outsiders seem to encourage healing and embracing collective wounds for transformation, whereas cultures that are more exclusionary seem to ‘other’ people and tend towards separation and seeking retribution. Fear of retribution can keep us trapped and unable to trust. It is as if there is a collective trauma belief that says, ‘if we let them in, they will hurt us.’ In my experience with Judaism, and what I am learning are my deeper Sumerian cultural roots, there seems to be a collective belief that ‘we can’t trust anybody.’ My own grandmother told me that as a child, and I asked her incredulously if I couldn’t even trust her. She didn’t answer, just stared at me in silence. Living in this social environment, I never felt safe. In fact, I felt terrified to even take up space. One wrong move could find me terribly punished, kicked out of the group, or worse, judged irredeemable by God. Despite constantly striving to be ‘a good person’, it never felt like what I did was good enough. I got used to feeling terrified that threats of judgment, punishment and retribution were always imminent. I worked hard to learn the rules I might break and the triggers I might set off that would result in my being punished. But I wasn’t in control. My brother had a habit of breaking rules and refusing to admit it, so we would both be punished. This was scary, too, because I didn’t know when the punishment would happen, or how intense it would. It felt safer at times to intensely control and punish myself so that I maintained a sense of autonomy. It also seemed safest to play the part of 
For most of my life I felt terrified to take up space. I felt like no space was ‘mine’ existentially or practically. For example, growing up, I wasn’t allowed to lock my bedroom door. I used to get dressed in my walk-in closet so I had some privacy and warning if my mother was coming into my bedroom. It took many years into adulthood – and practically ending many formational familial relationships that were untrustworthy just as my grandmother had told me – for me to become trustworthy to myself, be authentic and celebrate my difference, and surround myself with trustworthy and authentic people. By trustworthy, I mean people who say what they mean and do what they say, and when they can’t follow through on something, own it, apologise, forgive themselves, and make amends if needed. By authentic, I mean people who know their core values and practice embodying them in everyday life.
It is still unsafe for me in many spaces where my values conflict with the collective. But I don’t feel a need to constantly strive towards some central ideal, nor do I feel like it’s me against the world at war. I feel peace in myself for accepting who I am and doing my best to navigate the collective morass, and for cultivating spaces where I, and others, are free to be. In this way, I can embody the knowing that we are enough. (Or ‘good enough’, whatever that means.) (Image from 
If you value this content, please engage in reciprocity by 
Because of an interest in justice and meditation, I was pushed into law school, though the Western legal system is not my idea of justice at all. Determined to be of service, I spent years doing pro bono and low-paid work around the world with a focus on child advocacy, community building, and conflict resolution. In India I drafted a law to criminalise child sexual abuse that passed in 2012; in South Africa I led a small non-profit focused on community building and did conflict resolution with a rural Zulu communities; in Australia I worked with survivors of clergy sexual abuse, which ultimately led to a Royal Commission and systemic reform; and in Peru I worked with an inner-city restorative justice program. During this period of my life though I had already been through a lot of healing, I was still in spiritual crisis and had multiple near death experiences. Something in my life needed to dramatically shift as I was numb to dangerous situations.
I met my life partner Lukas in Australia in 2011. Our journey to be together has been hard work, which has helped us both to realise our worth. We travelled South America to be together when my Australian visa ended, and I finally felt safe and distant enough from my family of origin for repressed memories of childhood sexual abuse to emerge. It was like a cork full of chaotic energy popped open and challenged my mind’s ‘knowns’. My life started to make more sense as dissociated and lost soul parts emerged in an intensely painful and dramatic awakening process. As I healed, every family of origin relationship and many others with close friends and trusted mentors faded away. The period of most profound grief and loss I weathered was when my father, nanny, and best friend all died within seven months, my husband moved across the country for work, and the professor I moved across the world to do my Ph.D. with behaved abusively and unethically, causing me to change the direction of my work from restorative justice and conflict resolution to Indigenous trauma healing and to founding Earth Ethos.
If you value this content, please engage in reciprocity by 
Denying oppressive cultural stories frees not only you, but your ancestors, the lands, and indigenous people and their ancestors connected to the land where you live. A few hours outside of Sydney, Australia in 
Though churches and houses were built on their sacred sites were intended as acts of dominance and genocide, they ensured that those sacred places survived as sites of worship. Today Wuradjuri people are going back to those places and re-membering their language and culture:
Buddha, and Krishna, and where people also sit in contemplation and pray for insight and guidance from those figures. I find it helpful to be intentional about these differences in my own life, but maybe blended spaces work for you. Ultimately, we build relationships with figures, ideas, events, places, and energies, and those relationships work best when we both give and receive, and do not always ask or give with the expectation of immediately getting back… (Images: Altar of St Michael’s Church in Munich, Shrine of Remembrance for the War Dead in Melbourne)
Earth Ethos 
