On Triggers

There are these things we call triggers. These triggers are things which can essentially "trigger" or set off a physical reaction in a person. The trouble with triggers is that they are typically associated with traumatic events in one's life. It may be as simple as seeing a car that looks like the car your ex drove or it can be as complex as smelling the cologne that your rapist wore. These triggers are everywhere and you never know what will set someone off. You never know what will cause a reaction in another person. You never really know what is in someone's mind - unless, of course, the person tells you and you pay attention. But many people simply do not pay enough attention to the deep mysteries of other human beings, thus, many are accused of over-reacting to things when in fact, they are simply reacting to the trigger that has touched on something deeper and more painful and oh-so real.

Here's an example of what it's like to be triggered. I slipped into a special church service about an hour late and found a seat just before the speaker stood to deliver the message. I had settled in, turned off my phone, waved and mouthed silent hellos to my people and waited to hear what the man had to say. I looked up and saw the tousled ponytail of a young girl who appeared to be preoccupied on her phone and I shot her a quick text message about it and she turned to look at me two pews back and we shared an inaudible giggle. The speaker began to pray and my head bowed slightly and when I looked up at the conclusion of the prayer,  I saw them. Actually, the first thing I saw was a hand raised in affirmation of what the speaker was saying. The tell tale blue bracelet indicated that this was a member of our congregation. But just behind the blue braceleted wrist, I noticed the shiny black hair that was parted in the middle and then the dark suit jacket. Along the back of the pew, an arm clad in the fabric of the kind of suit that only certain kinds of men dare to wear to church rested along the woman's shoulders. I could not see the hand because if I could see the fingers, I would know whether it was HIM or not. 

I strained and found myself unable to listen to the speaker for trying to make out HIS face in the glass that surrounded the drumset. I could not tell for sure but it certainly did look like HIM. I followed the pinstriped arm up to the collar of the jacket and then stifled a gasp when I looked at the back of the man's head. It had that same shape as HIS head. I remember it well. I saw the heavy eyeglass frames and my breath grew shallow. I thought, this cannot be possible. Who would he know here? Why would they be here. I looked again at the woman and thought, this can't be true. That's not her hair. She has different hair. Then it hit me...I had not seen her in a while. Perhaps she was doing something different. Oh, why won't they turn around just enough so I can catch a profile? If I can see the color of her skin, I will know if it is THEM. I saw her raise her hand in praise and I caught a glimpse of the nails and I remembered to exhale again. No way would she ever have such a garish manicure. Or would she? I don't really know her, do I? He would not speak, nor would he turn just enough so that I could see if it was really HIM. The one who...well, maybe I'll tell that story another day. 

But don't you see? I was so caught up in the trigger that I almost missed the sermon and the rest of the service.  I did focus on finding the scripture and taking notes in an attempt to be in the service but that's the dangerous thing about triggers. They pull on something so deep that it takes a herculean effort to work against their insidious nature. They remind you of a 'thing' that you have paid a therapist a lot of money to deal with. They put you right back in harm's way in the theater of your mind and that theater is powerful. It is better than the IMAX. It is 3D and has surround sound and induces more perspiration than a sauna in a fitness center. There are no ushers in this theater and the concessions stand has been long abandoned.

Treat every person you meet with as much kindness as you can muster. Perhaps you can trigger something beautiful with your smile or with our silence. Perhaps you can help someone who seems to be over-reacting when in fact, he or she is simply reliving the horror of one of the worst days he or she has ever...survived. 

Shalom