“There are moments when language bows and steps aside, when the most generous thing a voice can do is echo the stillness.”-

– to echo a shameless stillness, a guiltless stillness.

To let go of these two turbulences.

To claim, reclaim Innocence.

Instead of exiting the garden of Eden.. Reclaim it, Conquer it.

This is what I want to do. A return to the Blank Canvas.

Anita

Thank you, Peter. I see you as a mentor—someone guiding me through what is still difficult to do.

After I posted yesterday, I found myself revisited by an old companion: shame. A flicker of disappointment stirred, as if I had declared “No shame!” and expected the spell to hold. It was a kind of magical thinking—a pattern I recognize from childhood and adolescence: “From now on, I’ll be good.” “From now on, I’ll make no mistakes.” And last night: “From now on, no shame, no guilt.”

Reading your response, I saw the echo of that same wish: to return to Eden as we once were—innocent, untouched, unburdened. As if simply shedding shame and guilt were enough to slip back into the garden as the little girl I used to be.

But you offered a wiser truth: we cannot return as we were—only as we are, transformed. And transformation begins with radical acceptance. Shame and guilt become threads in the tapestry of our story—not definitions of our worth, but markers of growth.

To transform them is to cultivate a climate of love and belonging where those old echoes lose their sting—where they cannot survive because the atmosphere is too warm, too clear, too kind.

What emerges, I hope, is a transformed innocence—not rooted in ignorance, but in wisdom, compassion, and radical self-acceptance. If Eden is to be re-entered, it is not through denial, but through integration. We must become someone who belongs there—someone who has turned suffering into strength, guilt into grace.

And I do see your grace, Peter—in your words, your insight, your absence of judgment.

Eden isn’t lost—it has changed shape. It is no longer a garden untouched by awareness, but a sacred space earned through turning suffering into strength, guilt into grace, confusion into insight, and shame into liberation—the freedom to exist without apology or self-erasure.

It’s a place of integration: of light and shadow, joy and sorrow, innocence and experience.

Shame and guilt aren’t banished at the gate—they are transformed by the fire that guards it.

Thank you for walking with me into this unfolding, Peter—for echoing the stillness and the fire. If you feel moved to respond, I’d love to hear what Eden feels like for you, now… not as a memory, but as a rhythm that’s shifting.

.. I feel a current moving—I’ll follow it into my own thread, where the words will find their rhythm.

Anita

Hi Everyone:

“My son accidentally kicked me in the face. I said “Ow, my nose is sore!” He came over and gave it a kiss.”- this is the most beautiful thing I read in quite sometime, Alessa 😊

I find beauty in your idea that moral shame, when welcomed like Buddhism suggests, can be less of a burden and more of a guide. Not something to punish ourselves with, but something that gently says, “You care. You want to do better.” And maybe that’s the heart of it—the capacity to care.

The book Healing the Shame That Binds You by John Bradshaw, along with other works on toxic shame, makes a clear and vital distinction between healthy shame and toxic shame. Healthy Shame acknowledges human limitations: It reminds us we’re not perfect, and that’s okay. It promotes humility and empathy: It helps us recognize when we’ve hurt others and motivates repair. It supports growth: It creates space for reflection, learning, and change. It is temporary and situational: It arises in response to specific actions, not as a judgment of the whole self. It encourages connection: It deepens relationships through vulnerability and accountability. Example: “I made a mistake, and I want to make it right.”

Toxic Shame, on the other hand, becomes an identity: It convinces us we are fundamentally flawed or unworthy. It freezes the nervous system: It leads to emotional paralysis, isolation, and despair. It distorts perception: It makes us see neutral or positive feedback as criticism. It is chronic and pervasive: It’s not about what we did—it’s about who we believe we are. It blocks healing: It prevents self-compassion and reinforces cycles of self-blame. Example: “I am a mistake. I don’t deserve love.”

Bradshaw describes toxic shame as the internalized voice that says “I am bad,” rather than “I did something wrong.” It’s the shame that binds, silences, and distorts. Healthy shame, by contrast, is a guide—it helps us live ethically, relate meaningfully, and stay grounded in our shared humanity.

So I read (the above). I intend to shift from toxic shame to healthy shame, than you, Alessa, for reminding me of this distinction and for the smile you brought to my face as I imagined your son giving your 👃 a 😘.

Warmly, Anita

Hi Everyone:

Alessa: “there is a huge level of trust in their caregiver… I believed my Mother and tried my hardest to be a good girl. I reviewed my mistakes each evening and tried to do better. I believed that if I did things perfectly, I wouldn’t be hurt. (Simply not true) But there was were always new things I was doing wrong. That intense trust in the caregiver and the lack of understanding.”-

Your words trace the heartbreaking logic of childhood: If I’m good enough, maybe the pain will stop. It begins with the child’s instinctive, total trust—a trust that is not earned, but biologically wired for survival. And when that trust is met with harm, the child doesn’t question the caregiver—they question themselves.

This trust is absolute—the child assumes the caregiver is right, even when the caregiver is harmful. When the caregiver is unpredictable or punitive, the child internalizes the message: “If I’m being treated this way, I must be bad.” The child then begins to monitor themselves obsessively, trying to be “good enough” to restore connection.

Unlike healthy shame, which helps us learn and grow, toxic shame is identity-based. It doesn’t say “I made a mistake,” it says “I am a mistake.” Over time, this erodes the child’s sense of self, leading to: low self-worth, perfectionism, emotional withdrawal, and difficulty forming healthy relationships.

The child psychology service. co. uk/ impact of shame: “Children traumatised by neglect and abuse… are hypersensitive to shame and unable to tolerate it… Abuse and neglect are shaming for babies and young children because, unable to understand the social world or the minds of other people, all they have is themselves. So when they, unconsciously, try to make sense of the parenting they receive the only person that can possibly be in control, and therefore responsible, is themselves. Therefore, babies can only interpret their experiences as their own fault…

“Babies do not have any concept of the idea that other people have minds that are different to their own. If they did they may able to understand that the responsibility for the treatment they receive is someone else’s.”

This article explains that children who experience neglect or abuse often carry a double burden when it comes to shame. First, they become highly sensitive to shame, and struggle to tolerate even small doses of it. Second, the way they behave—shaped by early survival instincts—is often misunderstood by adults, who use reward and punishment systems to try to “correct” them. These systems rely on shame to influence behavior, unintentionally piling more shame on top of the child’s original wounds.

When babies and young children are mistreated, they don’t yet understand that others have independent thoughts and responsibilities. They can only see the world from inside themselves. So when something painful happens, they believe it must be their fault. They unconsciously interpret the hurt they receive as proof of their own badness, absorbing shame before they even have the words for it. This early shame becomes a deep part of their identity.

As these children grow, they feel shame each time they fail to meet expectations. Adults often respond with correction, frustration, or discipline, which only confirms the child’s belief that they’re wrong or unworthy. This doesn’t help them change—it just deepens the idea that they’re inherently flawed. It’s a cycle that reinforces shame at every turn.

Psych central/ childhood toxic shame (very true to me): “Toxic shame is often accompanied by toxic guilt, where the person feels unjust responsibility and guilt. So the person not only feels ashamed, but also guilty for things they are not actually responsible for. They also feel responsible for other peoples emotions, and feel ashamed and guilty when other people are unhappy, especially if its in some way related to them.”

I further read that to heal toxic shame (so I read), the child (or adult they become) must:

* Reclaim the truth: “It wasn’t me. It was what was done to me.”

* Rebuild trust—not just in others, but in their own worth.

* Experience relationships where love is unconditional, and mistakes are met with compassion, not punishment.

Peter: “On the question of shame, I’ve found L.B. Smedes book ‘Shame and Grace’ one of the best I read on the subject…. I’ve been reading up on Sufism and they might speak of shame as something woven into the fabric of being human. ‘The heart must be polished until it reflects only the Beloved’. But the dust on the mirror, that too is part of the path. Even Shame, deserved and undeserved and ancient, can become a polish.-

A few quotes from the book (which I didn’t read): “We feel guilty for what we do. We feel shame for what we are.”,

“Shame is a very heavy feeling. It is a vague undefined heaviness that presses on our spirit, dampens our gratitude for the goodness of life, and diminishes our joy.”

“The cure for shame is not to try harder to be good. The cure is grace.”

“Grace is the gift of being accepted before we become acceptable.”

In Sufism (so I read), the Beloved is God—pure, radiant, and ever-present. The heart, in its raw form, is like a mirror, meant to reflect the divine, but it’s dulled by dust: ego, fear, desire, grief, shame. This dust isn’t a flaw. It’s part of the journey. The mirror isn’t broken—it’s waiting to be polished.

According to Sufi healers, shame arises when connection is broken—with self (when we feel we’ve betrayed our own values or worth), others (when we’re rejected, misunderstood, or harmed), or the Divine (when we feel unworthy of love or grace).

Shame is a signal, not a sentence. It tells us where connection has frayed. Vulnerability is the medicine. When we stop hiding, we begin healing. Surrender is the path. In admitting our brokenness, we open to grace.

Instead of covering shame with perfectionism or withdrawal, Sufis encourage us to name it, feel it, and offer it to the Divine. That act of surrender becomes a sacred intimacy—a moment where the heart, raw and exposed, is most receptive to Love.

This teaching doesn’t deny the pain of shame—it transforms it: The child who felt “bad” becomes the seeker who knows they are beloved. The wound becomes the place where the Light enters, as Rumi said. The mirror, once clouded, begins to shine—not despite the dust, but because it was polished by it.

Thank you Alessa and Peter for giving me this opportunity to understand better and address my lifelong toxic shame. I wish more people joined us here.

🤍 Anita

Oh I forgot to add. This conversation reminded me of @Tommy. He showed an interest in this topic. No need to reply necessarily since he wanted to bow out. If there’s an interest, it might be worth a read.

@Tommy Oh yes, his voice is always welcome and valued. I just wanted to respect his wishes. ❤️