“What will happen?” This question kept popping into my head as I sat in the van, winding through the rugged mountains of Kula, somewhere between Montenegro and Kosovo. Together with the artists from the acting troupe Magic Theatre (Magični Teatar), we were on our way to perform a play with women living in Kosovo. The project aimed to bring together women of Albanian and Serbian ethnicity, using theatre and artistic expression to empower those from areas affected by conflict. The twist? The actresses weren’t professionals—they were going to be local women who had never acted before but were willing to give it a shot.

Most therapy is talking. And that’s fine - but using a hammer can be very good as well. Ah, what a sound ceramic makes when it breaks! I would definitely be an artist in another life, another dimension. But in this life, I chose the path of a therapist, and art therapy and using our bodies in the therapeutic process are just as important as talking for holistic healing, especially for people affected by trauma. That’s why I especially love the art of Kintsugi.

At the root of any violent conflict, we can find painful wounds turning us against each other. Whether civil war, racism, toxic polarization, or bullying - unhealed trauma of all types drive us apart. But our pain doesn’t condemn us to more violence. Peace Catalyst’s Mirela Popaja-Hadžić, therapist and trauma awareness trainer, hosted this workshop on principles for healing and transforming trauma as part of transforming our communities.

Several nights ago, I was invited by my dear friend to come to Vratnik, but this time to a local “kafana” (pub) to come and sing Sevdah, a traditional genre of song from Bosnia that usually talks about unrequited love, tragedy, and fallen heroes. I’m a big advocate of in-person therapy, but oftentimes that type of therapy is unavailable or unattainable. So that evening, I decided to offer a different kind of therapy, the kind that sings songs of sorrow and gives permission to even the most hardened of men to experience the emotions of pain.

I am guessing there is a person in your surroundings with whom you do not agree and share the same values. If you are unable to speak to that person, I invite you to imagine walking in their shoes. Imagine spending one day as that person. Think about their life, their struggle, their way of seeing the world. What makes that person unavailable to you? And what makes them relatable?

For the past 10 years I developed an interest in studying trauma. I must admit that my interest in the topic started from purely selfish reasons. I wanted to investigate and try to explain to myself the events that took place in my past. And try to understand why I jump and scream every time there is a sudden loud noise, thinking who is shooting, from what direction, and is my life under threat? Slowly, this interest grew to a much larger scale. I took on the ambitious task of trying and understand how trauma travels through generations. And what consequences it leaves behind.

There is a constant battle between the individual longing for freedom and civilisation demanding conformity and repression of instincts. And so, individuals are constantly sending subtle and not-so-subtle messages about their feelings and this restricted freedom. I had this on my mind recently as I took the trolley bus through Sarajevo.