Trauma, development, and resilience are the focus of this year’s annual conference of the Medical Section at the Goetheanum. In the second of this three-article series previewing the September conference, we consider how healing also depends on our stage of development.
To help heal a traumatic experience, we must deal not only with a wound, but, more generally, with a disruption that alters how the four members of the human being—the physical, etheric, and astral bodies, and the I-organization—work together. We are often pulled—or perhaps pushed—in two directions: into a hypervigilant state, where attention to the surrounding environment becomes so strong that we lose connection to our own inner world; or, into a more sleep-like, dissociative state where we seem to lift out of the body. We may go more strongly in one direction or the other, towards hypervigilance or towards dissociation, or we may alternate between them. Healing support comes when we find experiences that weave our members back together. The best ways for that to happen often depend on our age and current developmental process.
During the first seven years of life, the immunological processes of common illnesses and inflammations, as well as playful, movement-based activities foster a deep connection and sense of belonging between the I-organization and the physical body. With a fever we work immunologically to claim and clear every part of our body; through movement we lift and enliven all our bones, muscles, and organs, right out to the fingers and toes. Therefore, if we wish to reconnect a dissociated self-organization with the body, experiences of strong warmth and games full of movement can act as remedies. Reconnecting oneself with the world in positive ways through nourishing sensory experiences—such as the lovely scent of roses, vanilla, or lavender, receiving a gentle touch, playing barefoot, or a balance game—all help to build more trusting experiences with the environment.
In the second seven-year cycle, the I-organization connects with the life-organization through the soul. The main focus during this period is therefore on cultivating rhythm—learning to breathe and sleep. A shock throws us off our rhythm; in such moments, re-establishing rhythms, routines, and processes is essential. Sleep and eat regularly. The soul truly settles into these rhythms when they are imbued with beauty, when sleep takes place in a cozy place, food is delicious and healthy, and movement is accompanied by music. The younger children are, the more directly their perception is connected to the organization of life, and can thus resolve and correct all blockages and strains.
Once the Rubicon at age nine has been crossed, a sense of spiritual belonging becomes more conscious, and spiritually oriented adults—or a fitting poem or prayer—can provide a special source of support.
When, during adolescence, the I must find its place within one’s own newly born, naked soul, it is, on the one hand, the community of peers who share similar struggles and, on the other hand, the one-on-one relationships that provide support and help. These relationships and conversations require confident, compassionate, warm-hearted adults, wise psychologists, and people who understand and care for the soul.
Into Adulthood
Opportunities for healing and re-integration continue throughout our biography. The important elements of the first three septennials—fever and movement, consistent rhythms, and trusted relationships—all continue to be important pathways for healthy change. But as we go through adult life, evolving steps of self-awareness may prompt us to say: “Now it is time for something to shift“ and then we start to make a move. It’s a special movement because it starts from the inside, going out—the opposite of a traumatic experience that comes from the outside and pierces into us.
The completion of our continuing seven-year rhythms, such as at 28, 42 or 63, may prompt us to ask, is this way of protecting myself still helpful? Is the risk of wounding still there, can it be prevented in ways that were not previously possible, or does it belong to a part of my life that has passed? What arises out of those questions is not guaranteed. Making new steps is not easy and sometimes change is still not possible. But windows for change do appear.
The adult movement through different biographical phases offers chances for greater awareness of the spiritual thread that weaves throughout all our experiences. We feel confirmation of the eternal nature of our true spiritual self, which continues through illness, through change, through loss. Then we simultaneously feel the different parts of ourselves—parts which still carry scars, but also parts which have learned from the processes of reintegration and healing we experienced. That learning creates a new kind of space where we do not have to ignore the wound, discount the shock, or dismiss the pain. We don’t simply “forgive and forget,” because they are true parts of our experience. We begin to see them as a part of our earthly experience, which has influenced but may no longer define our experience.
Our angel acts as a helpful guide as we work to find the steps of that healing pathway.
More Standing on the Abyss. Trauma, Development and Resilience, International Annual Conference of the Medical Section, September 16–20, 2026, Goetheanum, Dornach
Image Workshop at the 2025 Annual Conference of the Medical Section. Photo: Xue Li
