The Impact of Silent Injury
This week, I found myself studying a psychological concept that I have heard of and know of but
had never taken time to dig into. I recognize this week’s blog is a little less personal than some,
but I found this topic timely and felt this was a blog that needed to be written.
In the realm of psychological wounds, there is a term that often goes unspoken, yet its impact on
individuals, particularly those who serve in high-stakes environments like ministry can be
profound – this is the often silent wound known as moral injury.
Moral injury occurs when an individual experiences a deep sense of guilt, shame, or betrayal
after witnessing or participating in actions that go against their deeply held moral beliefs. Unlike
post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which is largely rooted in fear-based trauma, moral injury
stems from ethical and moral transgressions. These transgressions can arise when someone:
*Witnesses acts of violence or suffering they believe are unjust.
*Engages in actions they later view as morally wrong, whether willingly or under duress.
*Feels a deep sense of betrayal by leaders or systems that were supposed to protect ethical
values.
One of the complexities of moral injury is that it often flies under the radar. Many of those
affected may not even recognize what they’re experiencing. They might describe feelings of
intense guilt, worthlessness, or hopelessness. Some might feel they can never forgive themselves
or be forgiven for the actions they’ve witnessed or participated in. The weight of moral injury can manifest in a variety of ways:
*Depression and anxiety: The internal conflict between what someone did or witnessed
and what they believe is right can lead to ongoing mental health challenges.
*Loss of faith or purpose: For those with strong spiritual beliefs, moral injury can cause a
deep spiritual crisis, as they grapple with the disconnect between their faith and their
actions.
*Alienation: People suffering from moral injury often withdraw from their communities,
feeling as though they no longer belong or are unworthy of connection.
Healing from moral injury requires more than traditional therapeutic approaches aimed at
treating trauma. While talk therapy, medication, or exposure therapy can be helpful, the key to
healing moral injury often lies in:
*Moral repair: Acknowledging the moral wound and finding ways to reconcile one’s
actions with their values.
*Community support: Connection with others who understand or share similar experiences
can alleviate the sense of isolation.
*Forgiveness: For many, the journey involves seeking forgiveness, both from others and
from themselves. Spiritual or faith-based practices can play a critical role here.
*Acts of restitution: Sometimes, engaging in acts of service or restitution can help restore
a sense of moral balance.
Moral injury is deeply complex, and each person’s path to healing will be different. But
recognizing its existence and providing space for people to process these deeply held wounds is
the first step toward repair. As we continue to learn more about the psychological impact of war,
crisis, and high-stress professions, it becomes clear that healing moral injury requires both
personal and collective effort.
If you or someone you know is experiencing feelings related to moral injury, know that you are
not alone. Help is available, and there is hope for healing through understanding, connection, and
compassionate care.
The Art of Surrender
I have been thinking a great deal lately about the topic of Holy Indifference and the art of
surrender. I cannot pinpoint where this topic first begun for me, but I do know that everyday over
the past month or so, this has been a theme of thought.
In case you are not familiar with the term, it is important to note that Holy Indifference does not
mean apathy or a lack of concern. On the contrary, it is an active spiritual state in which one
becomes fully open to God’s will, detached from personal preferences or outcomes. It’s a
willingness to embrace whatever life brings — joy, suffering, success, failure — with trust and
peace. Rooted in Ignatian spirituality, this concept teaches that the only thing worth desiring is
what brings us closer to God. Everything else is secondary.
I have come to realize that at the very heart of holy indifference is freedom. By letting go of our
attachments, we open ourselves up to a freedom that allows us to love and serve more fully. St.
Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, wrote about the importance of this inner
detachment, where the soul becomes free to follow God’s will, unburdened by personal agenda.
It’s not about denying human desires or emotions but about holding them with an open hand. We
still feel pain, we still experience joy, but we don’t cling to them as if they define us. Instead, we
find peace in the certainty that God’s plan is greater than our understanding.
As we each know all too well, Life is full of uncertainties — illness, job changes, relationship
struggles, and more. When we cling to control, we end up in a constant state of anxiety. Holy
indifference offers another way: to trust that all things, whether good or bad, are part of a larger
divine tapestry. It doesn’t mean passively accepting injustice or hardship, but instead, finding
serenity in the midst of action.
For example, if you’re striving for a promotion or working toward a personal goal, holy
indifference means working hard, while also being open to whatever outcome unfolds. It’s about
saying, “I want this, but I trust that God knows what’s best for me, even if it’s different from
what I envision.”
This spiritual indifference requires deep faith and trust, but it is also liberating. We surrender the
illusion of control and allow ourselves to be led by something greater. This act of surrender is not
passive but active, calling us to engage with life from a place of trust and peace, rather than fear
and control.
And how do we do this exactly? I suggest the following:
- Daily Prayer: Regular prayer helps nurture the habit of seeking God’s will in all things.
Begin your day with the prayer, “Lord, may your will be done,” and repeat it when you
feel tempted to control outcomes. - Practice Detachment: Reflect on the areas where you feel most attached — whether it’s
your career, relationships, or personal achievements. Gradually practice detaching from
these, not by neglecting them, but by recognizing they are not the ultimate goal. - Discernment: Holy indifference doesn’t mean avoiding decisions. It means discerning
God’s will with clarity, free from excessive attachment to particular outcomes. Practice
asking, “How can I serve God’s purpose in this situation?” - Acceptance of the Present: Learn to embrace the present moment, even when it’s not
what you expected. Holy indifference invites us to fully engage with life as it unfolds,
trusting that each moment holds purpose, even when it’s not immediately clear.
Holy indifference is a lifelong practice, a spiritual discipline that offers peace in the midst of
uncertainty. It invites us to trust that every twist and turn of our lives is leading us toward greater
union with God. By letting go of our need to control, we discover a profound freedom and joy —
a peace that transcends our understanding.
I invite you this day to engage in a surrendering stance of Holy Indifference.
Let the Fall Begin!
There are two specific events that signal to me that fall has arrived – and a word of warning,
these are very New Mexico-centric! One is the smell of roasting green chile and the other is the
Burning of Zozobra. Being a Native New Mexican, and one who has spent the majority of my
life in the Northern part of the state, I can easily say I am not alone in my fondness of these
indicators of the turning of the seasons, but I can also easily say that my nostalgia for these
events is deeply personal and woven into the fabric of my memories.
The aroma of green chile roasting over an open flame is more than just a seasonal scent; it’s a
signal of the harvest, a reminder of home, and an invitation to gather around the kitchen table
with loved ones. Likewise, the Burning of Zozobra, an annual tradition in Santa Fe where a giant
effigy known as Old Man Gloom is set aflame, represents a collective release of troubles and a
communal welcoming of the new season. These events not only mark the passage of time but
also provide a comforting rhythm to the year, a reassurance that no matter what happens, some
traditions remain steadfast.
In the world of therapy, there is a well-known set of writing techniques based on the premise that
writing your thoughts down in an expressive way is a tried-and-true method of dissipating
complex memories and emotions. These techniques include standard journaling, using prompts
to dig deeper into one’s psyche, and even the ritual of safely storing or destroying the written
words—sometimes through shredding, dissolving with water, or burning. Much like the Burning
of Zozobra, these acts can symbolize a release, a way to acknowledge and let go of the past.
We each have our own indicators of fall, those unique markers that signal the change in seasons,
both external and internal. For some, it might be the crunch of leaves underfoot or the return of a
favorite sweater. For others, it’s the tangible shift in light as the days grow shorter. But beyond
the sensory cues, there’s often a deeper, more introspective shift—a time to reflect on what
we’ve harvested over the year and what we’re ready to release. Just as New Mexicans gather to
watch Old Man Gloom go up in flames, we too can use this time to consider what burdens we are
ready to burn away, what memories we are prepared to let dissolve like the smoke rising into the
autumn sky.
Fall, in its quiet transformation, invites us to acknowledge both the beauty and the necessity of
change. And as the green chile roasts and Zozobra burns, I am reminded that with each ending
comes the promise of renewal—a fresh start, a new season, and perhaps, a little less gloom.
Blessings to you on this journey,
Rev. Dr. Kelly Jackson Brooks, LPCC
Executive Director
Frog in the Boiling Water
There is a phrase that exists in Americana vernacular, and although I have no idea where it
originated, instinctively I know what it means – Frog in the Boiling Water. For those of you who
have perhaps never heard this phrase, it is a metaphor that refers to a person who sits in a
situation which may seem strange or odd at first, but the temperature is such that we remain in
the uncomfortable situation. Eventually, we cease to recognize the toxic and boiling temperature
of the situation that surrounds us, and we are taken over to the point where we struggle to jump
out of the now boiling water.
As is the case with many of these circulating metaphors, the Frog in the Boiling Water is a bit
grotesque, but I can guarantee with 98% certainty, that each of you have a situation that you have
experienced playing in your mind right now that fits the Frog in the Boling Water scenario. For
me, it took an emotionally toxic bully to extricate me from my Frog in the Boling Water situation
and for that, I am grateful. For you, it may be a situation from your childhood, young adult life, a
relationship, a friend-circle, or employment. These situations are often painful to move through,
but once on the other side, we can often find our breath and our voice once again.
The perspective of jumping out of the water – for whatever reason – reminds me of a much
gentler turn of phrase from The Journey written by a favorite poet of mine and many, Mary
Oliver in which she says: “But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to
burn through the sheets of clouds and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as
your own…”
We find ourselves and our voices in the most unlikely and unexpected ways, don’t we? Today, I
encourage you to take a step back and reflect. Perhaps, you find yourself in rising temperatures
and it’s time to reach out and seek support to be pulled from the boiling pot. Perhaps, you are in a
place of revisioning and reclaiming who you are. Perhaps, you are finding yourself on your feet
and fully embracing what is all around you and before you. In any case, be grateful and seek out
those who support, encourage, and care for you regardless of the leg of the journey you find
yourself on.
In Search of Joy
I am a sucker for a good story about human survival and the building of resiliency within
individuals and communities. I love the grittiness and messiness that lives in the human
experience and the What Happens Next and What Do We Take From This? I was recently
privileged to hear such a story of tragedy and the ability to great beauty within the rubble. This is
the story of Vedran Smailović, known as the “Cellist of Sarajevo,” and it is a poignant example
of finding and creating beauty in the darkest of times. In the midst of the brutal Siege of Sarajevo
during the 1990s, Smailović chose to play his cello in the ruins of his city, specifically to honor
the 22 people who were killed while waiting in line for bread. His act was more than just a
tribute; it was a defiance against the horrors of war and a statement that beauty, art, and humanity
could persist even in the face of overwhelming darkness.
The message of Smailovićs’ story, and the way it is echoed in the novel The Cellist of Sarajevo,
teaches us that joy and beauty are not just things that happen to us—they are things we can
choose to create and share, even when circumstances seem hopeless. The characters in the novel,
though they do not directly interact with the cellist or each other, are each profoundly affected by
his music. His playing becomes a symbol of resilience and a reminder that the human spirit can
find ways to endure and even flourish, despite the surrounding despair.
In this story, the search for joy is not about finding it in conventional places but about creating it
where it seems impossible. It shows that joy can be an act of resistance, a way to assert one’s
humanity in the face of dehumanizing conditions. The cellist’s music, echoing through a war-torn
city, symbolizes the power of art and the human capacity to find meaning, beauty, and
connection, even when everything else seems lost.
Ultimately, the lesson is that joy is not something passive that we wait for; it is something we
actively cultivate. Even in the darkest times, we can choose to create moments of light, and in
doing so, we can inspire and uplift others around us. This search for joy becomes a lifeline, a
way to maintain hope and dignity when it feels like everything else has been stripped away.
I encourage you – find the light today.
‘Tis a Gift to be Simple
Some of you may be wondering, “What exactly am I looking at in this photo? Is that a frog?”
Your questions are justified and yes, what you are looking at is indeed a frog and more than a
frog, it’s a frog flowerpot that I have owned since I was a very young girl. My mother is an avid
flower gardener and worked to instill this passion in me and as a hook in her plan, she purchased
this child-like frog flowerpot to get me started. And yes, I plant some sort of flowering foliage in
this very sentimental pot every year!
Something to know about me is I do not keep a great deal of physical positions, specifically
physical positions that do not serve a purpose. My loving older brother literally once told me that
I was “The least sentimental person he knows.” I do not collect tchotchke, I do not keep books
that I have already read, I do not appreciate trip trinkets. Rather, I love going and experiencing
places, cultures that are different than mine, and great food with friends and family. I am one of
those who spends money and time on travel, and I collect experiences and memories. So, the fact
that I have kept and moved this 1970s-style frog flowerpot certainly say’s something.
I deeply believe that what and who we surround ourselves with say’s more about what our values
are than we truly take time to consider. Are you a collector of items of interest? Do you like to
remember your adventures through photos and mementoes? Do you proudly display your
achievements on your office walls? There are meanings and reasons behind each of the decisions
we make in what and how we share with others what holds meaning and space for us.
This week, I encourage you to take time looking around the spaces in which you occupy. What
does what you own and how you share these pieces of you say about you? Is the message you are
sharing the message you want to convey?
Ouvrons grand les Jeux: Games Wide Open!
Once every four-years, something a bit whimsical and nostalgic happens, and unless you are free
of all media and are perhaps living under a proverbial rock, you know I am referring to the
Summer Olympics! Since 1984 when the games were held in the City of Angels and proudly
touted its mascot, Sam the Olympic Eagle, I have been a dedicated consumer of the Olympic
games. Like many, I have my favorite events to watch, and I am always in awe of what the
human body, mind, and spirit are capable of as each are so openly displayed for all to witness –
and share our opinions and commentary on, even when we have no idea what we are talking
about.
I have always believed we can learn a great deal from the athletes who so proudly share with us
who they are – they are vulnerable and dedicated in ways we can’t always easily comprehend.
This year, another learning moment came to mind as I was comparing this year’s Golden Girls:
US Women’s Gymnastics Team, to teams of the past. There is simply something different that we
are observing this year, and I was having a difficult time naming what this thing was until I came
across a Ted Talk highlighting the differences between Belonging and Fitting In.
Belonging is about being accepted for who you are, feeling a sense of community, and knowing
that your authentic self is valued. It involves mutual respect, shared values, and a sense of
identity within a group. Fitting in, on the other hand, often requires conforming to the
expectations, norms, and standards of a group. It can mean suppressing or changing parts of
oneself to be accepted.
And there it is! What we are privileged to observe during the games this year, and at times be a
part of in our own lives, is what a community can be when the value of Belonging vs. simply
trying to Fit In is at play. When we truly allow those in our midst, including ourselves, be who
they and we are, the community is better for it, and it shows.
I am well aware that I have shown up in social circles, professional settings, and in ministry
trying to Fit In. In some cases, I kept-up the Fitting In Game going until the bitter end, but in
other situations, I allowed my authentic self to appear in an attempt to Belong. What I have
personally discovered is the importance of showing up Day One in an authentic way and not
being so concerned about Fitting In, rather Belonging in spaces that are authentic and true to who
I am and to the community.
My hope and prayer this day, is that we each find our authentic selves – always beautiful and
sometimes messy – and we know the joy of Belonging.
Balcony Time
When I was a child, my favorite place to be in the church was in the balcony. I remember feeling
as if no one could see me as I sat, sang, read, chatted, and shared snacks with my fellow young
balcony dwellers. This space became a haven, a place of freedom and a unique perspective on
the world below.
The balcony provided a literal and metaphorical elevation. From that vantage point, everything
seemed different—clearer, yet somehow more mysterious. It was a place where we felt a certain
autonomy, away from the direct gaze of adults, which allowed us to experience the service in our
own way. The hymns sounded sweeter, the sermons more distant, and the sense of community
among us kids was palpable.
Balcony time was more than just a physical location; it was a state of being. It represented a
space for reflection, camaraderie, and a touch of mischief. We were together, yet also alone in
our thoughts, able to observe the world around us from a safe, elevated distance. It was a place
where we could engage with our surroundings without the pressure of constant scrutiny.
As I reflect on those times, I realize how important that sense of space and freedom was, and still
is! It was a formative experience that taught me the value of having a place to retreat, to gain
perspective, and to simply be myself. In many ways, that balcony time was a microcosm of what
we seek in our daily lives—a balance between community and solitude, engagement and
observation.
Today, the idea of balcony time still resonates. Whether it’s a physical space like a balcony or a
metaphorical one, having a place where we can pause, reflect, and observe is crucial for our
well-being. It’s about finding moments to step back, gain perspective, and appreciate the world
around us from a different angle.
So, let’s cherish those balconies in our lives, both literal and figurative. They remind us of the
importance of creating space for reflection and connection, a place where we can enjoy the view,
both inside and out.
Shame: The Swampland of the Soul
I am a big fan of taking a night and going to the movies. I love the entire process of purchasing the perfect
seat, overpriced movie popcorn, a real coke, and candy. I fully enjoy the corny previews and sincere
attempts by the theater to ensure everyone turns off their cell phones and cut down on chatter. Best of all,
the experience of the movie theater brings a bit of separation and suspension from the world outside and
allows me to live in a space I typically do not occupy.
Unfortunately, due to managing schedules and life in general, I am not able to visit the movie theater
often, but when I heard that Inside Out II was making its way to the theater, I was all in. The Inside Out
movie franchise is one I enjoy quite a bit. As a therapist, I am well aware of the dry well in which many
of us find ourselves in when attempting to identify and name our feelings. I am too well versed in the
various methodologies in attempting to assist people in the art of identifying and naming feelings. Inside
Out is one of those movies that comes along and greatly assists its viewers in an engaging way to visually
understand what feelings are, how they interact together, and the importance that each feeling plays in our
lives. Well done!
For Inside Out II I was interested in the introduction of the new line of feelings, specifically the feeling of
Anxiety and I assumed that we would also be introduced to Shame. I do not know why I was under the
impression that Shame would be included as there was no indication that this would be the case. I knew
from articles written regarding Inside Out I and II that therapist had been consulted in the creating of the
movie, it’s story line, and what feelings to include and I simply assumed we would see Shame. As the
movie progressed, I realized that although I was going to experience Anxiety, Shame would not be
present (one could read a great deal into that statement!). Do not get me wrong, I enjoyed Inside Out II,
but I was curious about the absence of what I view as a critical feeling. So I decided to do a little research,
and discovered that Shame was originally going to be included in the movie, but the producers felt the
feeling was “…too heavy and not fun to watch.”
Carl Jung – Swiss psychiatrist whose work on archetypes and the collective unconscious are still studied
today – is credited with identifying shame as the swampland of the soul. I appreciate the visual this
description brings as shame can be a difficult feeling to explain. In the simplest terms, while the feeling of
guilt is about an action: “I did something bad,” shame is about the self: “I am bad.” Delving into the
feeling of shame is critical as we each work to come to a better understanding of who we are. If we take
time to navigate the swampland of shame, we learn to be vulnerable, empathetic, and care for ourselves
which in turns builds emotional intelligence and emotional resilience.
My hope for you today is that you do not back away from feelings or experiences that seem too heavy, not
fun to watch, or like a swampland. Share your story, learn and grow from each of your experiences, and
perhaps by the time Inside Out III makes its way to theaters, we will finally understand and met Shame.
Blessings on the Journey,
Rev. Dr. Kelly Jackson Brooks, LPCC
Executive Director
Chrysalis Counseling For Clergy
Thin Spaces
In the fall of 2019, I had the privilege of participating in a retreat for mental health and spiritual
care providers focused on the theme of Thin Spaces. I was familiar with the concept of Thin
In the fall of 2019, I had the privilege of participating in a retreat for mental health and spiritual
care providers focused on the theme of Thin Spaces. I was familiar with the concept of Thin Spaces, but to say I had spent any time contemplating or discerning what this concept means to
me would be misleading. As you can imagine, I was both excited and hesitant to delve into the
topic as I had a deep suspicion the retreat would be more about how I was to embody Thin Space
then it was for me to simply digest the concept to then teach it to others. To be completely
vulnerable here is to say that I am one who is used to being the practitioner and not the patient
and I am not naturally good with the tables turned.
This particular retreat took place at a picturesque retreat space in Northern New Mexico. The
backdrop of the location seems to be almost AI generated as the sky was perfectly open the
entire two-days of the retreat and seemed to be the clearest blue/aqua color you can imagine, and
don’t even get me started on the mountains!
I remember the retreat facilitator well; she was a small-framed petit woman who seemed to slide
about the space effortlessly and she spoke in a comforting and clear manner which drew all 12-
participants in as if we were simply feeding on every word. She began by speaking on the topic
of Thin Spaces as transitional and transformative areas that exist between two distinct spaces.
She spoke of the connection to the Divine and the importance of allowing for a heightened sense
of connection to the divine or the transcendent. The second half of the day was focused on Thin
Spaces as symbolic periods of personal transition, such as rites of passage, where individuals
move from one stage of life to another, including career and call. These spaces and marks of
time, provide opportunities for introspection and self-discovery, helping individuals process
changes and grow emotionally and psychologically.
By the conclusion of Day I, I was exhausted but filled. Falling asleep was easy and waking to
Day II seemed seamless. Day II was a day of silent retreat where our assignment was to
contemplate our Thin Spaces – what we were experiencing now as a period of personal transition
and where we considered our physical Thin Space to be.
Today, I find myself in a new Thin Space and I plan on visiting my physical Thin Space soon. I
believe this is a time that finds each of us longing for Thin Spaces in a multitude of ways and I
encourage each of you to sit and contemplate this time of transition and transformation,
connection, reflection, and growth. Recognizing and embracing Thin Spaces so they can lead to
deeper understanding and appreciation of the complex and interconnected nature of all you are
and all you are in this world.
