I was sad to read a post on Threads the other day where a woman described how she had visited a therapist after her hysterectomy. In chatting to him, she ‘was, typically, telling jokes and making light of the hard stuff.’ He heard her out and then asked, What about the pain? The woman posted that she ‘… shattered. Absolutely fell apart. Because I have never allowed myself to admit that pain is real.’ She hadn’t realised until then how she had been hiding that from herself. A case right there for Agrimony.
Smiling
and putting on a brave face we call it. The word face comes from an old Latin
verb facere to make. “To prepare a face to meet
the faces that you meet,” as TS Eliot phrased it. In a distressing autobiography
by Ronnie Archer-Morgan (of BBC’s Antiques Roadshow) he wrote “I came to realise that a
smile deflected people from my inner anguish.
It became a form of armour, a shield against monstrous memory, a way to counter
my conviction that people wouldn’t like looking at me.”
These are extreme examples of hiding anguish even from ourselves. We think our wound has healed over when in fact – as can happen with deep physical wounds – it only appears to scab and heal on the surface, while continuing to turn septic underneath.
Sometimes we can recognise Agrimony by the persona they
project. They are often chatty, cheerful,
sociable people, quick to suggest a drink or an outing. Persona comes from the Greek meaning the mask that actors wore, and took off after a
performance. Agrimony wears a mask – and
it becomes such an engrained habit that they are no longer in touch with their inner
selves. That was clear in the instance above, the woman was so used
to ‘acting’ – pretending to herself that she had no pain – and joking about her
predicament that she automatically did it with her therapist.
The Agrimony chattiness – unlike Heather types where it is
all about their own concerns – is designed to deflect attention or interest away
from themselves, their problems, their feelings. They can’t bear to recognise
or examine their own pain so of course they don’t want others to touch the sore
place either. I have a client who, if I ask a pertinent question, will always
digress to another topic entirely, deflecting my spotlight away from himself.
Taking Agrimony reconnects us
with our innermost being, helping the
torment to surface gently and naturally in our consciousness so that it can
heal in the pure light of day. With inner peace restored we find we can face
problems with courage and optimism.
