As a trauma survivor with CPTSD, I experience flashbacks and nightmares.  For me, flashbacks are like seeing a reflection on a window and what is through it at the same time. When they happen, I experience the past and present simultaneously, but neither clearly. The past becomes superimposed over the present. Depth of time doesn’t make sense. Everything is confusing. Nothing can be trusted. Nothing is predictable. Everything is dangerous. I treat people and God with skepticism and distrust. I feel very small and insignificant. 


As an artist, I know our brains are malleable.  Our imagination and neurological pathways give us the tools to deal with our brokenness and past.  How we handle our memories matters.  The imagination can foster hatred and anger or it can create empathy and community.  Through our imagination, we can take material gifts to create things that are good, or we can distort them into narcissistic idols.  We can forgive, or we can let bitterness harden.  Our imagination can help us to rewire our self perception in a healthy way.  Our imagination is a gift because it can help us make things that lead us back to God.  


It has been hard work for me to sift through the emotions from the things I have seen.  The hardest for me to overcome has been horrific nightmares, which leave me trembling and sweaty.  The dreams are so vivid that I lay shaking and too terrified to sleep.  John has spent hundreds of nights holding me, rocking me, whispering calming words of love.  


One morning, after such a dream, I stopped at the Goose Pond dam to recenter myself through prayer.  And as I stood at the water's edge there was total stillness in the air.  Not a ripple was on the water.  The calm was like a weighted blanket of comfort.  It was in such contrast to Rembrandt’s painting “Storm on the Sea of Galilee”.