A Dog, a Flashlight and Our Work

by Peggy Haymes

My dog Bear came to me a couple of years ago after having been rescued for a terribly abusive situation (I can’t call it a home.) His previous owner was convicted of felony animal abuse. Except for the scar on the top of his head, you’d never know it, though. He’s a gentle giant who lives to love the world.

One day I discovered a small lump of something on the top of his head. His brindled coat was too dark for me to see if he’d picked up a tick, so I got my flashlight, the long skinny kind. As I came toward Bear with it, he went crazy.

His eyes grew wide and wild. His whole body radiated fear and terror. He wheeled away from me, twisting out of my grasp and running down the hall to the safety of his crate. Putting the flashlight away, I had to spend several minutes calming and reassuring him.

Something about that flashlight triggered his memories of trauma.

Many of the people with whom we work, whether in congregations or as coaching clients, have their own memories of trauma. We may know the stories or we may never guess them, stories of terrified childhoods or abusive relationships. Some of them may be stories to which we bore witness, like stories of serious illness or catastrophic accidents. Or it may be the trauma that we’ve all shared but lived in different ways, the experience of living in a pandemic.

Trauma shapes how we live and move in the world. (It can actually shape our DNA.) Trauma can be passed down through the generations. It can be the unseen participant in the coaching session or congregational meeting.

Understanding trauma, its impact, and how we can work in trauma sensitive ways is as important now as it has ever been. That’s why Pinnacle is offering a course on Trauma Informed Coaching. You can find out more and register HERE.