I can probably say I know a lot about healing. Not that I have suffered that much in my life. Seriously, I have been blessed in so many ways. But I have had to find a way to go on, as most of us do, after a tragedy. And I have found it. I believe I have found the path to healing because I have been so very blessed. To do anything else would be to throw the gifts of love and kindness and support away; to deny their power and importance in my life. And so, I find my way to a place of healing, even when I believe there is none.
This is truth, although, in the depths of being broken, I did not know it. I am better now than I ever was. Pain has sharpened my humility; sorrow has deepened my empathy. I am stronger, but also, I am a better human by having been broken and healed.
There are so many ways to find healing.
Distraction, yes, but we all need that at times. Don’t poo-poo it because it seems like you are ignoring the source of your pain. Your mind, your heart, need time and space and quiet to heal. It’s not all about conquering the beast or attacking things head-on. Sometimes it is about doing things that simply soothe your heart, give it respite. Cooking, gardening, walking, crocheting, hugging my dog – and yes, puzzles – do that for me.
The simple, routine things that bring me closer to the one I serve, even while I am alone and suffering, help to heal me too. My heart settles as I sink down into the familiar obeisance, and repeat the mantra in my mind. It calms me, it allows healing to begin. It reminds me why I endure the pain in the first place.
This, too, was a moment of healing, though it just looks like kinky fun. An instruction given during a time of stress, of uncertainty. Not simply a distraction, no. A way for us both to move beyond the harsh words and sadness that had been a part of our interactions the past days. It was obeying that wasn’t about kink…it was about something so much deeper. It was about healing the rift that had come between us. It was about moving toward that place where I am his again.
For me, marking my body, both permanently, as with my W tattoo and the bluebird one year later, and with the mark of V’s viper bruising my skin, is a way to find healing. The first was a way to honor W; the second a way to honor all that had been and all that was gone; and the last, a way to honor what I have now, in spite of the tribulations we have faced. Every one of them marked a moment of healing; of moving beyond what had been to what was now.
And then there is the healing that is nascent. A text message. I’d like to make some time to sit and talk on Sunday.
I’d like that too.