This is the key to personal growth, of course. . . .that ongoing process of identifying and uprooting the parts of our life that aren't working for us, and finding ways to change or improve them in some way.
What makes this "post incident" review process work, however, is to "establish a nonthreatening environment for the discussion" where the purpose is "to improve future operations, not to assign blame." The same is true for the process of healing or personal growth. It is essential to look at the conditions that helped to form or create a dynamic, but to understand rather than to look for a cause to blame.
We can not outgrow that which we do not understand. Awareness is the key. Understanding is essential.
I am really enjoying this FEMA training, as my way is to draw parallels with my life from whatever source I find clarity and inspiration, and I am finding great clarity and inspiration in this metaphor of disaster management (for obvious reasons). My life is what it is, but I no longer try to hide my personal baggage, because I find much more value in seeking to create a more functional response to all of that nasty stuff I carry around inside (rather than to avoid it or deny its existence entirely).
It is my belief that I live in a Prozac world, a world obsessed with feeling happy and wonderful all of the time. But I also live in a world where disaster happens, and the course of human lives are sometimes forever altered and diverted. So I am going to sift through however many crap-tons of debris I need so that I can learn what I can (when I can) from the disasters that have blown their way through my personal world.
I think what most people don't get, is that there is great beauty to be found on the other side of the disaster, a deeper appreciation for life in spite of its fragility, a beauty that is forever untouched even by the worst of human trauma. Other people may watch me sorting and purging through the endless piles of debris and wonder why I don't just move on, but what they don't understand is that the debris isn't trash. . . .it's all of the broken pieces of life that once was me. . . .so there is still great treasure to be found. . . .and when I find another piece of my spirit amidst all of the ruin and rubble, it is a gift of the heart that no words could ever describe. So, no. . . .I'm not going to walk away from the debris. . . .because this debris is still me.
The archeological dig of one's spirit is not for everyone. It's a painstaking process with hours and hours of slow and deliberate work with tiny brushes delicately removing the sedementary dust that entombs the treasured prize. But for me, it is everything. . . .and the recovery of my spirit is so very much worth the work. . . .