by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 soldier-tears-getty

            Plucking Tears is not an easy thing to do, especially when the water works fall faster than you can pluck. Another problem to consider is how do you pluck tears when they are inside your heart and soul? These water drops are harder to access. Many times some do not even recognize they are weeping. The suffering is so silent, so hard to define that outsiders rarely, if ever, observe the sobs.

 

            War is an extreme opportunity to frequently pluck tears. There are tears of grief, tears of sadness, tears of loss, tears of confusion, and the list could go on and on. As soon as you think you are done with the weeping, it returns for another round. It takes an emotionally powerful person to allow tears. Most of us are afraid if we start the crying we may not be able to stop. It is a frightening thought. Yet, whether we allow ourselves to cry openly on the outside, the sobbing will move through our spirits.

 

            I once heard that some wars are GOOD wars. For me, there is no such thing as a good war. There may be “just” wars, but even then this does not make war good. All wars cause a great deal of woundedness. Woundedness for those fighting the battles, and woundedness for anyone close to the combat zone. Communities are devastated by the carnage left behind, families are torn apart, and individuals carry the scars forever. War gives a great many people frequent occasions to Pluck Tears. Wouldn’t it be great if we could get just a bit of peace from the plucking?

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 warrior-11

            There are few things in life that can take your mind off trouble more than a special day on a beautiful river. Last week the Platte Valley Trout Unlimited Chapter located in Saratoga, Wyoming had the opportunity to take a group of wounded veterans from the Cheyenne VA Medical Center on just such a trip. The excursion began with an amazing barbecue put on by members of the chapter and local volunteers. It seemed like almost everyone in the community wanted to contribute something from ice cream to napkins. Children from 4-H served food, helped clean up, and simply added their youthful energy to the evening.

            The next morning began early with breakfast which proved there is nothing wrong with a warrior’s appetite. Then off to the river, which is a logistical bussle of shuttling boats, equipment and people to one of the river’s launch site. Vice-President and project coordinator of the Trout Unlimited Chapter, Steve Hays, was a bundle of nerves as he wanted to make sure every detail of this event went perfectly. Again, all the shuttle drivers, helpers, boats, and guides donated their time and efforts to making the fishing trip an amazing experience.

            The guardian angels of fishing trips could not have arranged a more beautiful day for a float. The water was dazzling with light, birds seemed to have arranged their chorus of unique songs for entertainment, and even the fish were cooperative. Private angling lessons were given throughout the day which proved to be quite successful for most of the veterans. Two warriors demonstrated their angling abilities by catching ten or more fish. Since the North Platte River has been running at flood stage since mid-May, having the water and its inhabitants somewhat normal was a real gift.

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            Yet, the most significant result of the float trip was its therapeutic benefits to the wounded warriors. Most of the group had not known each other before the overnight trip. What they found from these precious, short twenty-four hours is recorded in their comments below:

  • I can’t believe people care that much about us.
  • I had no idea other veterans continue to struggle with PTSD; I thought I was just weak.
  • I really needed this… it’s been a long time since I felt I could relax and feel safe.
  • The whole experience has been a true blessing.
  • This is what makes healing happen.
  • That was one of the best days of my life.

              Formal therapy can and is very helpful to many military individuals healing from the trauma of combat. But it is only one ingredient of the recipe. Being with others who have suffered similar wounds, knowing that others care and appreciate their sacrifices and experiencing the beauty and serenity of nature offers one a sense of peace, safety, and the faith that perhaps some divine presence may truly be keeping watch over them.

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 Yep, Fishing Therapy… the new, ground-breaking, effective line of defense against the scars of war.

 

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 p1

            For many of our military men and women who return from combat there is a burning question; a question that asks, “Who am I?”  Who am I now that I have seen so much, done so much, and heard the despair of so many? For some there may be a feeling of unworthiness, a gnawing numbness of pain. They seek answers that seem to elude them; answers hidden somewhere between the battle fields and the present.

           

            Every person wants to be validated in the world: to be seen, to be heard, to be felt.  Returning from war often leaves a person with a sense of invisibility. A feeling that adds to the question, Who am I … this other person who wanders a world that once was so familiar now feels like a drifter in a land that may not seem recognizable.

 

            Know this one simple truth, You are worthy of love. You are worthy of goodness. You are worthy of a life of joy and personal fulfillment. The trick is not that others view you as worthy. You must believe this for yourself. “You are responsible for your life”. And only You can create and live such a life. You alone must believe that you are worthy to live a good life and a life of meaning.

           

            Combat can take one’s sense of self, but it does not take away one’s need to be a part of something, some mission, some worthy cause. The heartbreaking reality for many veterans is returning from battle with a frame of mind of being untrained to live in civilian society. You will need to work hard to find your path in this world after combat. No one can do this for you. It is a journey each individual will need to travel and seek out.

 

Some doubt they are up to the challenge. This is purely self deception. If you could be trained to perform all of the incredible feats of a skilled warrior, you certainly have the strength, intelligence and willpower to succeed in becoming your very best “I AM”.  The gift has always been yours. It was bestowed on you at birth. The outside world may work hard to convince you otherwise. Some days it may be tempting to give up the search. But carry on. In your hands lies the power to choose.

 

Choose to accept your very best I AM.

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 koopsen-16-tn

We reside within our own wondrous environment, within ourselves, and wander about the internal hills and valleys everyday. If we are lucky and have lived a full life, the landscape of our inner country is filled with incredible diversity.

Mountains and valleys only have depth based on the extent of our experiences. The brilliant hues of colors cannot be painted on an empty canvas. Nope, such vividness is achieved through a great many life events: joy, grief, humility, arrogance, chaos, serenity… all mixed throughout the years.

Yet, through all our trials and triumphs, with a bit of luck, our inner artist refuses to put down the paintbrush. Each day offers elements to add to the internal country; an element that increases the vastness of the spirit. Within ourselves we wander with purpose and courage. Trauma takes a toll which only hope can overcome.

We become our best selves not because we lived a safe, comfortable life, but because we have fully lived. There is a huge difference between a life of ease and one of worth. The first took little effort; the latter required a deep sense of duty, sacrifice, relentless perseverance, and sometimes tears. All of these make a life of worth a special gift to the world. A gift that lives far beyond our short existence.

Which life have your lived so far. Which life are you living now? What would your canvas look like? Certainly, like any remarkable work of art, it would have its dark contrasts; yet, I hope it would also contain sweeps of light, touches of brilliant colors, and areas of tender hues which embrace a sense of peace and serenity.

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

soldier-shadow-thin

            There is a phrase that one hears every now and then, Hidden in Plain Sight. Four simple words that eloquently reveal the complexity of the impact of trauma on one’s mind, heart, and soul. We see the person; we look at the eyes, the body language, the being’s form. The suffering is present in plain sight for all to witness. Yet, few do, lacking the keen observational heart skills required to notice anguish.

 

            There are days I wish I didn’t see it – the faces of children battered by abuse and neglect; the adolescent’s depressive absorption into the ugly world of alcohol and drugs, and the veiled, but ever present ghosts of veterans, young and old carrying their memories of war. They haunt me as the world moves around their pain because it is hidden in plain sight.

 

            Much like ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’, we are a nation that prefers to maintain our equilibrium at all cost. We tend to be uncomfortable with sorrow even when it stands knocking at our front door asking only for recognition and a bit of compassion.

 

            We say we are a nation of empathy, yet often dismiss the humanity that exists in every person, especially those with whom we don’t agree. We argue we are intelligent, proficient thinkers, yet fight rigorously to disqualify any information that does not align with our personal paradigms/beliefs, whether true or misleading, without accurate evidence or data.

 

            The answers to our current and future problems are available, but for too many they are hidden in plain sight. It will take incredible courage to look into our own minds and hearts searching for what is right and true. It will take courage and honest self-reflection to heal the hidden wounds of the wounded, but it can be done. What lies before us does not need to consume us with fear or apprehension. When confronted, trauma and pain can be overcome and no longer hidden or carried alone.

 

 

               Light and sunshine are incredible healers.  

 scooby-dooby Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 

            Hard to believe it is the end of 2010.  What an interesting year this has been. Most of our days have been filled with many blessings of meeting new friends, spending time with old ones and beloved family members, taking part in all of nature’s wonderful opportunities, and just having some time for personal rest and relaxation. To close out this year, I thought I would mention just a few of our many blessings.

 

 

While Tony was going through some medical tests at the Cheyenne Vet Hospital last week, I met a very large great Dane named Scooby Doo. He was a rescue dog who became a therapy companion for one of the wheelchair bound vets. While others believed this dog was vicious and untrainable (due to abuse from several prior families), the vet saw goodness and potential. Turns out that love does make a difference and Scooby Doo is living proof.

 

            As stated, spending time with family and friends is always at the top of our list. There are never enough minutes in the year to let others know how much they mean to us. How their phone calls, get-togethers and small interactions are the best rewards of every day.

 

            Being able to attend several veteran’s reunions and conventions humbled us greatly. Meeting with the Black Lions in Las Vegas, Nevada, showed us again the enormous sacrifice vets give. This particular group endured some of the worst combat missions in the Vietnam War, yet they continue to move forward every day with hope and courage. In August we were guest speakers at the annual Nebraska Vets Convention in Norfolk, NE. The veterans and their spouses were so gracious, we enjoyed the entire event.

 

            In June Tony was the keynote speaker for Project Healing Waters’ annual organizational meeting. The conference was held in Steamboat Springs, CO, a truly stunning and perfect setting for an organization dedicated to introducing wounded vets to the beauty and peace of fly fishing. Often times, nature and our four-legged, long tongued companions are the best medicine for a tattered spirit and injured body.

 

 

          For Memorial Day, we traveled to Evanston, WY to speak to a patriotic community and address the sacrifices made by all veterans from all generations.

 

The return home from Iraq of the Wyoming National Guard in March was a moment of jubilation that words can’t quite describe. Families who diligently carried on everyday duties without their loved ones were significantly relieved to finally have the tour of duty complete. Then in February, a group of citizens from Ft. Collins purchased and presented a beautiful Quilt of Valor to the Fort Collins Veterans Center. The quilt was made by Donna Roche in Rogers, Arkansas. Her group of quilters sends quilts overseas to various vet hospitals in the US as gifts of comfort and hope to wounded warriors.

 

We hope your list of items holds similar stories of warm get-togethers, memorable adventures, and quiet gratefulness. Thank you again for your many comments, your support, and most of all your immeasurable service to our country.

 

Jan and Tony

christmas

We included this in last year’s blog. Here it is again.

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

“What are you doing?” I asked without fear,
“Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!”

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light
Then he sighed and he said “Its really all right,

I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night.”
“It’s my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at ‘ Pearl on a day in December,”
Then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers.”
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘
Nam
‘,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue… an American flag.

“I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.”

“So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”
“But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
“Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?

It seems all too little for all that you’ve done, For
being away from your wife and your son.”
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, “
Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.

Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,

That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.

by Janet J. Seahorn

christmas-star

            A favorite Christmas carol asks the questions, “Do You See What I See”? “Do you hear what I hear?” “Do you know what I know?” During this holiday season, where many do not feel so holy; where many do not hear the sounds of joy that carols bring and angels sing; where many have yet to believe that good still exists, perhaps there is a message of gentleness if we are strong enough to trust.

 

            Yes, I realize I am an optimist. Truly, it is one of my best qualities, besides a distorted sense of humor. There would be no “today” for me if these gifts were not part of my being. I am pretty certain I would have given up a long time ago for that choice certainly seemed easier. Yet, I’ve always known giving up wasn’t an option or a model I wanted to give others, especially my sons. 

 

            So, what do you see? In this challenging world of war, political disgust, and self-centeredness there are abundant examples of crap. But look around. Beauty is, also, everywhere – in the face of an innocent child, in the brilliance of holiday lights; in the fresh whiteness of snow… it exists if we look. On my refrigerator I have a post-it-note that says, “Focus on the possibilities, not the limitations”. It is life-saving advice.

       

            Next, what do you hear? Undoubtedly I hear the weeping of those in pain both physical and mental. Those who have experienced inconceivable loss. Those who live with the memories of combat past and present. Those who are challenged by sickness. Physical aches are difficult, but emotional wounds are far more exhausting, for emotional pains are the ones others cannot see or hear. These are the silent screams of the soul, and they demand a great deal more stamina. Often these cries seem to overpower the humanity of our being. Such times will demand we listen for what is decent and soothing; a breeze rustling in the leafless trees, a favorite song, a small child giggling over a ringing silver bell, or the quiet gaze of love that says more loudly than any words… we are cared for more than we can imagine.

 

            What do you believe? Do you believe in the seen or what is unseen? Believing is a choice. As a scientist I rely on hard, quantifiable data to answer research questions. However, the world’s most noteworthy gifts cannot be counted or even proven. Gifts such as goodness, love, and miracles are beyond the “proofs” of men, yet they exist. One cannot measure honesty; he cannot measure wonder, nor is he capable of determining the reality of love. Yet, these exist. These are the staples of our days. They allow us to continue living in spite of our frustrations and grief. They are more powerful than any pill, any counseling program, or any doubts.

 

As you move through your sometimes difficult days, focus on the good things you see; listen for what soothes your heart; believe in your personal power and the vast energies of good which are still present in our lives. And believe, “what is needed is on its way, right now”!

Look, listen, Believe.

by Janet & Tony Seahorn

christmas-star

 

            It is a bit sad to think of celebrations as a “thing” to “get through”. 

 Unfortunately, for many people suffering from trauma and loss, that is precisely the case. We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family and friends. Dinner was scrumptious with tasty fares of turkey, dressing, creamy mashed potatoes, and several great desserts. Laughter was abundant.

 

 

         Yet, for Tony, the noise, the larger number of people – it was only nine of us total – found it still an effort to make it through the day. After dinner, when we all were playing games, he retired to a quieter room to watch football and relax. Our sons would go down to chat, but it wasn’t the same as having him join us in the fun. After everyone left, Tony felt the familiar pangs of sadness and guilt. He wanted so much to spend more time with everyone, but simply could not manage it. Trauma squeezes an excessive sum of happiness from folks.  It is the thief who continually keeps on taking and taking and taking.  Unlike the Grinch who stole Christmas, this silent bandit never gives anything back.

 

It is heartbreaking to watch the joy of this beautiful season being weakened by suffering. Therefore, I am sending forth a challenge to each of our readers; a challenge that may take some real effort each day. This may be a test that will demand some thought and determination if it is to be successful. But most of all, this challenge will only be taken on by those who really do want extra joy in their coming days.

 

For most us when we are feeling a bit down we have to put forth special attempts to look for the joy around us. At other times, usually when things appear to be quite desperate, we will have to create joy. Normally, the only way we are successful in creating joy is do something joyful for someone else.

 

To begin this challenge, make a list of things that make you happy, a clumsy puppy, your mates smile, a quiet walk along your favorite path…  Whatever it is write it down, then paste a copy on your refrigerator and your bathroom mirror – for obvious reasonsJ

 

Now, for the next four weeks take time each day to achieve at least ONE thing on your list. If you are absent minded like me, put a mark on the calendar that you made your JOY commitment for the day. Look around carefully, where do you notice someone in need of assistance? Perhaps this is your chance to CREATE joy, doing something for someone else. Taking an action that may take a bit of a burden from a family or person in need. Golly, these are acts that a Grinch would detest, because bandits can’t steal what is being given from the heart.

 

Finally, and I very much hope Tony and I hear from many of you, sometime before Christmas send us a short message to let us know if this challenge made your holiday season a bit better this year.

 

If you did perform an “act of kindness”, we would love to hear about that too. In our Christmas week blog we will be a sharing the messages we receive. Do something special this season, take this Joy Challenge.

 

In doing so, remember this quote by Charles D. Gill,

“Believe that you make a difference. There are many wonderful things that will never be done if you do not do them”.

 

We wish you twenty-five days of amazing goodness. May this season bring you the joy you so richly deserve.           

 

Seasons Greetings

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

veterans-day

It is cold outside.

 

 

I just got home from my last lecture session. Needless to say it was quite interesting as the entire week I have been battling a bad cold and struggling with losing my voice.

 

 

Today, there was no voice. Trying to deliver a lecture with laryngitis is a challenge. Hence, I put all of my “words” on my wonderful PowerPoint and proceeded with the lesson.

 

Since the week is Veteran’s Day week, I decided I would do something different for my university classes. I would talk about the LITERACY of WAR: the vocabulary, the literature, the stories, and of course, the effects of war on both the veteran and the families.

 

My first slide said this:

 

My husband is a Vietnam veteran who was a young officer and served in the jungles between the borders of Cambodia and Vietnam. He witnessed a great deal of bloody battles and lost many men. He has two Purple Hearts. The last one he received after being severely wounded.  Out of 130 men, only 19 walked away without any injuries. The rest were either killed or wounded. Yesterday I asked if he would like to be the guest speaker for today’s class since I have no voice. His response is what he said he would tell you,

 

“My wife thinks I’m not miserable enough, so she wants me to talk about PTSD for 90 minutes.” 

 

He said some other things he might share with you, at which time I decided his services would not be needed!    (I would like to keep my job.)

 

Of course my students thought this was pretty funny, even if it was true. But the purpose of this blog is to share with you what I learned from my students. It is pretty sobering.

 

Out of 140 students, only five had ever had a college session where the professor talked about or honored veterans on Veteran’s Day.

 

Most students were interested in the session’s information and videos. A few, however, during the first short video paid more attention to their text messages than to the video. Then I put on a slide, “How well did you listen and honor our veterans during the show?” The room was incredible still. The other short clips received 100% of their attention.

 

  1. Young people are not insensitive to veterans, I believe their seeming thoughtlessness is not that at all… it is because the adults around them do not take the time to talk WITH them, or to REMIND them of the sacrifices others have made FOR them. Schools, communities, and parents are the ones most at fault. Many have lived the experience and stayed silent. No longer will I remain soundless. I will always give this presentation in the coming years.
  2. We did an activity where students moved forward when I asked a question if a relative had served, was injured, or died in a particular war.  Many took a step when I mentioned WWII. More stepped forward again when I mentioned Vietnam. And last, when I asked about the Iraq/Afghanistan conflict, I was surprised at how many were impacted. Last, I asked for those who had or were currently serving in today’s wars, four stepped forward. I had them face the class so all would see. Then I began clapping and the entire class gave these four young men a standing ovation for their service. It was an emotional moment for everyone.

At the end of class two of the young men commented that this was the first time anyone had acknowledged and thanked them for their service.  Today was the first of what I hope will be many. And just as important 140 young people may stop every now and then, think about those who gave and are giving so much, and say a prayer of gratitude.

 

Perhaps, when they see a vet or know of a family member who has served they will say Thank You.

 

A few have already called home and done just that.

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