
Grandmother's Hands
Stock Photo Illustration (Credit: pookgreen/ Canva/ https://tinyurl.com/5ybjm4h3)
I teach a personal-professional formation course for seminary students, beginning in January every year. The first week of the first year I taught was the week of January 6, 2021.
So I am no stranger to the ways chaos impacts my students’ (and my) ability to read, think and act critically and theologically. But these past few weeks–this chaos, confusion, fear and heartbreak–feel overwhelming in a way that perhaps even January 6th did not.
One of the books my class reads selected chapters from is Resmaa Menakem’s 2021 bestseller, My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies. A therapist who specializes in racialized trauma, Menakem provides a historical overview of how “White body supremacy” has racialized and enacted bodily trauma upon generations of Black and BIPOC communities.
It is also a result of generational trauma experienced by those who inflict it. Throughout the book, Menakem offers body practices that can break these cycles by connecting with our “fight, flight, or freeze” instincts and calming our nervous system.
On the second week of this winter quarter, my students were reading about ways to manage personal, racial and generational trauma through polyvagal theory, or what Menakem describes as our soul nerve: “the unifying organ of the entire nervous system…where we experience a felt sense of love, compassion, fear, grief, dread, sadness, loneliness, hope, empathy, anxiety, caring, disgust, despair, and many other things that make us human.”
Soul.
Nerve.
I know many of us are already feeling like our nerves–and our souls–are quite frayed, and we are only three weeks into this second Trump administration. While polyvagal theory and the idea of tending to our nervous system’s needs have become quite the buzz in therapy, spiritual direction, and personal coaching circles in recent years, Menakem’s identification of the vagus nerve as the “soul nerve” is resonating even more deeply with me than it has in previous years.
Every time I open an inbox, check in on social media, or (reluctantly) turn on the news, I am met with an onslaught of horrific orders, appointments, and actions coming down from the Trump administration. Much of what I encounter on social media is the beauty of dear friends and colleagues trying their best to keep their circles informed of what is happening and ways we can engage in the #Resistance. And I love them for it.
But there is another social media sentiment floating around that is also resonating with me: “My desire to be well-informed is currently at odds with my desire to remain sane.” Even so, when I feel stuck in the “overwhelm of it all”–vacillating between my baptismal vow to “resist evil and injustice in whatever forms they present themselves” and just turning it all off and watching another episode of The West Wing (if only Jed Bartlet could be our President now!)–I am reminded of Menakem’s concept of the soul nerve.
What can I do to ensure that my nervous system is regulated enough to engage in the #Resistance now, as well as the long-term struggle that lies ahead? What small things can I say “yes” to today while also acknowledging my own need to remain sane throughout the next four years…and beyond?
Finding focus helps. In our individual calls to connect our voices, skillsets and passions with the world’s greatest needs, clarity will move us forward in bending the arc of the moral universe toward justice.
But individually, we cannot fight every battle. There are far too many to choose from. The key is choosing which battles are yours.
In the eternal wisdom of womanist theologian Katie Geneva Cannon, we must ask ourselves, “What is the work my soul must have?”
And then we must pursue it. And we must trust that our siblings in the #Resistance will pursue the work their souls must have. We must also trust that together, we will move our society toward a more just future for all, step by difficult and often painful step.
Even if it takes four years. Even if it takes a lifetime. Even if we don’t see the fruits of our labor within our own lifetime.
As we engage in these struggles, I encourage us to take note of the various ways different individuals and groups are taking a stand against the multitude of injustices flooding our media outlets and our minds these days–and give thanks.
We should be kind to one another and encourage one another in the various and imperfect avenues we take, as we will not all be engaging in the same issues at the same time, or with the same capacity–but remembering that we are all finding ways to be engaged.
I encourage us to consider the privileges some of us hold if we are simply overwhelmed by the news versus those whose livelihoods and very lives are at stake. For those of us who are privileged enough not to be directly impacted (yet) by the most egregious of MAGA policies, may we engage in “the work our souls must have” by humbly listening to the voices and following the lead of those who are most directly impacted.
I also urge us to proceed with caution, being careful (but not immobilized!) to avoid inflicting more harm while trying to help. We should humbly accept critique with gratitude and make conscious corrections when we do.
Check in with your soul nerve regularly.
I was personally encouraged by the ways my students connected with the reading from Menakem they’ve done thus far. Most of them were able to identify ways they have already been engaging with their soul nerve through their work in hospice settings, exercises recommended by therapists, or various forms of healing ministry they are leading.
We will visit different chapters of Menakem’s book several times throughout the coming months. However, I have suggested they purchase the book for themselves and read it in its entirety. I encourage you to do the same, for such a time as this.
Dr. Rebecca M. David Hensley holds a PhD in religious studies, with an emphasis in theological and social ethics. She is a member of the adjunct faculty for United Methodist-related Iliff School of Theology and an ordained deacon in the United Methodist Church.