The Story of What Did Not Happen

Today the nation celebrated Matariki—the Māori New Year—signalled by the reappearance of the Pleiades star cluster.

For some, it was simply the beginning of a long weekend. For others, it was a sacred time to honour and remember those who have passed away since the last rising of the stars (Matariki Hunga Nui); to gather together with whānau (family and friends) to share food and music in celebration of the present (Matariki Ahunga Nui); and to plant crops and set goals, looking forward to the promise of the coming year (Matariki Manako Nui).

As for me? In the absence of client bookings, I had planned to be one with my couch. Under a duvet (and possibly a cat or three). With my crochet. Binge watching something captivating.

Instead, I spent around four hours absorbed in a professional development webinar presented by Ruth Cohn on The Invisibility Trauma of Early Childhood Neglect. It was heavy stuff, to say the least. Hardly anyone’s idea of a relaxing public holiday.

However, my brain was captivated.

The first thing that hooked me in was Cohn defining neglect as “the story of what did not happen”; “the story of nothing”; “a vast empty universe of missing experiences.”

Notice something?

The word story.

Sure, Cohn goes on to name and discuss psychological and social constructs such as regulation, nurture, mirroring, affiliation, connection, and personal communication. However, she circles back to the importance of story in the healing journey by helping clients reconstruct their narrative.

Cohn also shared her own story of growing up as the child of Holocaust survivors and the connections she made much later in life as attachment theories were evolving.

It had me reflecting on my own family—with curiosity as to what insights my own research will uncover.

As the moon began to rise, I lit a candle—just as I do on All Souls’ Day—in remembrance of those who have passed.

Then, with the year ahead in mind, I began making plans of my own.