The Great Healer – Pain

Cancer is a fierce but oh so benevolent teacher. How I survived a traumatic childhood was to tighten my body, close my heart and go as far away into my mind as I could. With this resistance, I tried to encapsulate, deep inside me, the grief, the fear, the anger, the despair, and the shame that I experienced on a daily basis. I didn’t know how to be with these thoughts and feelings, and the sensations they engendered. Also, there was nobody there listening, loving, and supporting me in the way all children need.

Our ongoing resistance to what we are experiencing has not only frozen huge parts of ourselves deep inside, but it has also made us believe our frozen parts are akin to monsters and if we get close to them, we will be destroyed. But they are just a bunch of little children in monster costumes!

Deep healing appears when you can become, for yourself, the parent you have so often longed for. You do this by softening your resistance to experiencing what you are actually experiencing and then inviting your heart to sit with what is here, being with it as if it were your only child.

The gift of cancer for me is that it destabilizes the walls around my deepest pain, the pain we all took on when we were young. And over and over and over again, I discover responding to my pain rather than resisting is where true healing happens.

One of my all-time favorite poems is called The Unbroken by Rashani Rea and I got permission to put it in my first book, Belonging to Life and I have kept this poem very close to me during this part of my life. It helps me to find the courage to meet what is asking to be seen, accepted, and loved, with curiosity and compassion.

The Unbroken

There is a brokenness
out of which comes the unbroken,
a shatteredness
out of which blooms the unshatterable.

There is a sorrow
beyond all grief which leads to joy
and a fragility
out of whose depths emerges strength.

There is a hollow space
too vast for words
through which we pass with each loss,
out of whose darkness
we are sanctioned into being.

There is a cry deeper than all sound
whose serrated edges cut the heart
as we break open to the place inside
which is unbreakable and whole,
while learning to sing.

My heart sings every time I read the last stanza which reminds us that deep pain is truly a healer and, if we listen, it can take us to what is unbreakable and whole while we learn to sing! Her words remind me over and over again to trust my journey, even the really difficult times. You and I are woven out of dark and light. Pain is not always likable, but it is a trustable part of life. And it does take great courage to acknowledge and sit with our pain. But remember, the root of the word courage is cor – the Latin word for heart.

So, I invite you today to cultivate moments where, when you notice pain, whether it’s a stubbed toe, a wave of shame, or an anxious chest, pause for a moment and say, “This is what is happening right now.” And then, for just a few moments, give it your attention. All your pain, no matter what form it comes in, is deeply longing for the healing light of your compassionate attention.