Trauma and Place
{on anthropocentric and individualistic exiles}
We don't have trauma; trauma has us.
— Báyò Akómoláfé
Much has been said about trauma recently. So much so that it has become a word of common use, and its meaning has been rather superficialised.
One of the possible definitions of trauma is the description of the challenging emotional consequences that the experience of distressing events has for an individual. It turns out that traumatic events can be challenging to define because the same event can be more traumatic for some people than for others.
Here, I want to broaden the concept of trauma to the fabric that surrounds us, moving away from its exclusively human lens —the trauma embedded in the cultural structures that forge us and to which we adhere in terms of identity. By this, I mean that there are a series of assumptions, given as normal and even desirable, about how we should "be human" and how we encounter "reality". These assumptions have their own absurdities, as they are based on disconnected and often deeply violent visions.
In this short article, we will explore two sources of profound amnesia about the symbiosis of life, anthropocentrism and individualism, and how they intertwine in our relationship with places and the other-than-human. Touching on these two fundamental concepts of our culture from the point of view of trauma opens us up to other possibilities of reading and relating.
The Trauma of Anthropocentrism
Anthropocentrism literally means human-centred. In philosophical form, it is the moral belief that only human beings have intrinsic value (and, of course, only certain human beings, not all). In contrast, all other beings have value only in their ability to serve humans.
This concept of the human being's hierarchical centrality is dry and aseptic, leaving us rather lonely at the top of life's ladder —sitting on an exceptional golden throne with a mute and inert world at our feet.
The trauma of not belonging lies here, too. It's a concept inherent in Western civilisation that avoids and violates the relationship with the other-than-human, hides the sentience of life itself and refuses any possibility of symbiosis, because it is based solely on control, resource extraction and domestication. According to this instrumental lens, the world was made for humans, which leads us to neglect and deny all other forms of life.
The Trauma of Individualism
Individualistic cultures, such as modern Western culture, emphasise uniqueness or individuality, personal goals, independence, self-sufficiency, and privacy. Through this cultural lens, individualism tends to be romanticised and confused with individuation or taking care of oneself —violently denying and obliterating the importance of community and ecological collective care. In these modern cultures, the habit or principle of being independent and self-sufficient is based on the belief that each person is unique and should behave independently according to their personal interests and preferences. This lens denies our mammalian and gregarious basis because we have always belonged to groups; we have never "been" alone.
The trauma of individualism is the denial of mature responsibility and symbiosis, because we are never outside our multiple contexts, and our identity is always relational.
Individualism has a profound lack of interdependence, connection and relationship. We should note the cultural fear created in individuals of symbiotic relational processes dissolving or fragmenting their fragile identity or individuality. The fear of being swallowed up and neutralised as the unique individuals they are. The panic and deep amnesia of porously belonging to other-than-human eco-systemic communities. The dread of no longer being themselves (whatever that means).
The paradox is that this is already happening, as we are all acculturated and normalised into an ideation of individualism as the desirable thing to achieve. This values our individualistic traits but neglects the traits of care and affection as superfluous and inferiorly emotional, denying the profound relationships that make us up and run through us. We never stop being unique, but we must mature beyond self-interest and personal, independent preferences. We are, and always have been, intertwined and responsible for each other.
Trauma and Place
Through anthropocentrism and individualism, we have arrived at the position that refuses to recognise that trauma can also be outside of us. Outside the human, beyond our individual histories. In the multiple relationships between interdependent layers of life.
On the one hand, we are generally denied any possibility of validating emotional reactions related to relationships with the territory, such as humiliation, shame or denial, which can trigger in us emotions of deep mourning, trauma, post-traumatic stress or anxiety about violent changes in the territory —whether due to natural catastrophic events, human "progress" or both. We are easily violently shamed because we cry at the sight of burnt trees or neglected when we get anxious every summer because everything could be burnt down again. Places, as paradoxical as they are, can anchor a series of catalysts for anguish and pain and nourish grounds for regeneration and relationship.
Here in the Western psyche, the long history of human domestication, accompanied by dissociation from the promise of divine transcendence, has made us forget and profoundly unlearn the 'nuances' of the relationship with Places. We have gone from being guardians to fearful and irresponsible usurpers. This deep amnesia is also the trauma that shapes us today, a disregard and detachment from intimacy and reciprocity in favour of the limited response of fear and control.
The alienation and dissociation made possible by the anthropocentric and individualistic beliefs that shape us make it very challenging to return to a responsible web of other-than-human relationships. This alienation and amnesia are reiterated daily, living in the recesses of our cultural movement and even in our metabolism, in other words, in our neurochemical and hormonal reactions and responses.
It's not just a matter of cognitive choice, of deciding that "we won't be anthropocentric or individualistic any more". However, we can divest ourselves from these behaviours and beliefs every day.
We can open ourselves up to befriending a tree, a stretch of river or a stone. Yes... it's as trivial as it is difficult because nobody will thank us or appreciate us for it, we won't be specialists or experts in anything. We just being available to cultivate relationships of affection and responsibility. And maybe, slowly, we'll realise how far we've come.
Written in Portuguese: BATALHA, Sofia. Trauma e Lugar. Vento e Água – Ritmos da Terra, https://ventoeagua.com/revistas-online/revista-50/trauma-e-lugar/, número 50, 2024