Limb over Life; The Inside-out World of the Adoptee
AKA Mirages of the Heart, Mind & Soul...
As someone who has devoted their professional career to the field of attachment, trauma, adoption, relinquishment, and more importantly, how to survive this landscape, I have given deep consideration to this complex field of experience.
Having read mountains of books, articles and papers. Received endless hours of mentorship, teachings, and education. Spoken with healers, therapists, shamans, and poets. Humbly listened to my cohort, folks from “Two and three quarters old!" , to late octogenarians, share their hearts around this state of deep and profound wounding. And, I have lived through this landscape myself. To say it is an area of interest, both personally and professionally would be a massive understatement. I feel as though I have turned over every stone, trying to understand, heal, and free myself (& others) from the shackles of this particular type of suffering. So keen to understand. So motivated. So devoted.
Every once in a while, the amazing can happen.
All the thoughts, notions, and elements at play that run through the mind cohere into clarity. The ever mixing soup of truth, reality, perspective theory, and experience settles, into a clear still pond. If you are lucky*, in that precious moment, you might get to see things you've mulled over exhaustively, in a whole new way, in a whole new light.
And by lucky*, what I really mean is quiet, present and aware. Curious. Wiling to allow something new to emerge. The forest is very helpful in this way, such a generous field of care to be found here.
Recently, whilst walking among the beauty of a local forest, a simple and clear phrase dropped into mind.
This thought, settling in with gentleness, ease, and a confident gravity:
Limb over Life.
This is what has often been chosen by those who have experienced significant relational trauma, Adoptees chief among them.
Adoptees have the direct experience of being a "problem" in one area, and a "solution" in another.
It is in this dynamic that commodification comes into play. Agencies structured around solving both ends of this dynamic remove and relocate humans, based on the needs of the individuals with the problem and those in need of a solution. This leads to the commodification & then depersonalization of the human at the center of it all. The baby.
Relocated, the baby has lost the natural reflection of their kin, which deeply informs their developing sense of identity. Within even the most well intentioned adoptive homes, there is an inarguable reality. The baby solves the problem. Of infertility. Or by filling the role of completing the "perfect family constellation" ( i.e.: "we wanted a girl/ boy after having our own bio children" or "we didn't want our first to be an only" etc..).
Even the much sanctioned approach of "so many babies need a home, we don't need to have one of our own" posits the baby as a solution, gaining the adults access to parenthood, absolved of the guilt they carry regarding continuing their own bio line.
A good metaphor is like thinking about having the problem of too many chairs in one room, and solving it by moving the extra chair into another room. You might even sell the extra chair, to cover the cost of its creation, care and storage.
It's no problem for the chair, as it has no sense of identity. It is a profound, and far reaching problem for the baby.
In a perfect world, our parents & caregivers have a fully developed sense of identity. They then, without distortion, projection, expectation or transference of wounding (perfect world, remember!), pass the clear and true baton of identity on to the infant. Through attuned presence, respectful and loving touch, care & protection that honours the individual that this infant is. There is a fairly obvious fly in the ointment here.
Baked into the dynamic of adoption is the experience of being commodified, which leads to depersonalization. Systems that remove and relocate human beings, for a fee, set up a structure that infuses the field with unseen "agreements", if you will. The baby soaks these up, being the tiny sponges that they are. Absorbing the narratives that shape their sense of self and identity, value and worth, role and purpose.
For many adoptees, there is an ongoing struggle around being one's self. Having never received their true reflection, nor the slow transfer of that baton, they have no idea who they are.
They cannot take care of themselves, because they don't have a self.
They have a great many versions of "who you want me to be", and "who I need to be to survive this situation". This sets folks up for a life of profound suffering at worst, and a perpetual sense of shallow sense happiness at best.
Out of a primal drive to survive, they chose limb over life. Like a mirage in the desert, full of promise, unable to sustain inner wellbeing.
The person closest, the person in power, the person in charge. This transfers throughout life, from family, to friends, to partners, to employers, and so on.
I read once, many decades ago that adoptees have an "invisible developmental to do list", that sits, unseen, alongside the standard developmental tasks all humans go through. The experience of navigating commodification, depersonalization, and the return to self feels like it should be on the list!
Limb over life. Chosen to survive. I get it.. did this for decades.
I am exquisitely aware that this dynamic pinches the oxygen line of authenticity.
One of the sweetest discoveries of my life so far, is that of being who I actually am. Me being me, from deep inside. Easeful integrity, aligned with Soul satisfying truth.
As I witness myself in this, it swells my heart full of tenderness, wholesome pride, and warm affection. It is not something I came to easily, not without some serious battle scars. Without guide or counsel that could illuminate the path, it was a rough road. But here I am.
When I witness it in another, it also swells my heart. Filling my being with light, my eyes with happy tears, my body with generous, joyful laughter! Because here you are! And I'd bet, with a story to tell...
Bless us all, I think one of my favourite writers (& hearts) of all time, Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes as she lovingly calls us the Scar Clan... folks who have survived the unthinkable.
Many are attracted to the history, the story, the details of the unthinkable.
What captures my attention most now , is enjoying this state of choosing my own life. Enjoying having become stable, coherent and full of ease within.
What captures my curiosity most now is what quickens the process.
How did we get here? To a place where we choose ourselves, where you love you and I love me? (so much love!) Where we like ourselves, and take care of that beautiful self?
For me, the path to this most beloved states of being has been greatly expedited through the study of alchemy. It is here that I have learned how to work with content, dynamics, realities, and energies that all other modalities and approaches I encountered could not quite, well, alchemize!
Although each step along the way had value, the potency, efficacy, and elegance of this ancient wisdom technology continues to amaze, delight, enrich and transform me.
If this piques your interest, and you would like to engage in a supported practice of alchemizing this particular field of suffering, feel free to drop me a line...
Wishing the deepest of blessings to my beloved Scar Clan, and beyond,
Nicole
