Injured But Inspired Tim

When I was around 12, I carried a secret shame. We were so poor that I often went to school with no food. At recess, while my classmates opened their lunches apples, cookies, sandwiches.

I sat pretending I wasn’t hungry. I buried my face in a book, hiding the sound of my empty stomach. Inside, it hurt more than I can explain.

Then, one day, a girl noticed. Quietly, without making a fuss, she offered me half her lunch. I was embarrassed, but I accepted. The next day, she did it again. And again. Sometimes it was a roll, sometimes an apple, sometimes a piece of cake her mother baked.

To me, it was a miracle. For the first time in a long time, I felt seen.

Then one day, she was gone. Her family moved, and she never came back. Every day at recess, I’d glance at the door, hoping she would walk in and sit beside me with her smile and her sandwich. But she never did.

Still, I carried her kindness with me. It became part of who I was.

Years passed. I grew up. I thought of her often, but life went on.

Then, just yesterday, something happened that froze me in place. My young daughter came home from school and said:
“Dad, can you pack me two snacks tomorrow?”

“Two?” I asked. “You never finish one.”

She looked at me with the seriousness only a child can have:
“It’s for a boy in my class. He didn’t eat today. I gave him half of mine.”

I just stood there, goosebumps rising, time standing still.

In her small act, I saw that girl from my childhood. The one who fed me when no one else noticed. Her kindness hadn’t disappeared,it had traveled through me, and now, through my daughter.

I stepped onto the balcony and looked at the sky, my eyes full of tears. All at once I felt my hunger, my shame, my gratitude, and my joy.

That girl may never remember me. She may not even know the difference she made. But I will never forget her. Because she taught me that even the smallest act of kindness can change a life.

And now, I know: as long as my daughter shares her bread with another child, kindness will live on.

Credit :Sustainable Humans

What's missing from "The Body Keeps the Score?" From an Interpersonal Neurobiology (IPNB) perspective, Bessel Van der Kolk's book
largely overlooks the relational and systemic context in which trauma exists and persists. He touches on relationships and collective trauma, but the framework focuses on the individual body and brain.

IPNB shows that the nervous system’s regulation depends on ongoing safety in relationships, communities, and environments. Hierarchies, abusive institutions, and chronic social stress keep survival adaptations active, no matter how many therapies are applied.

Recovery isn’t just a matter of retraining the brain or soothing the body. It requires safe, attuned relationships and social environments that allow the nervous system to downshift from survival mode. Without addressing these systemic and relational factors, the body remains on alert, the nervous system remains dysregulated, and healing is partial.

Van der Kolk opens the door to relational and somatic healing, but IPNB emphasizes that trauma is as much about the social world as it is about the individual body. The full path to recovery must attend to both: the body’s physiology and the relational, institutional, and cultural contexts that sustain safety, or keep systems trapped in threat.

NOTE : this is not to dismiss or degrade Bessel Van der Kolk's work or his book. Just a note about what's missing, and filling in the gaps so people can gain that understanding.