Wounded Healer

Did you ever notice that some people seem to have more patience to listen to your woes than others? And I mean simply listen, not offer any unsolicited explanations or  solutions. I have a handful of friends who are willing to provide this act of kindness for me. (You know who you are and I treasure you!) Other than paid professionals, this seems to be a dying skill. Or maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.

That said, Henri Nouwen (pronounced Henry Now-wen), a well-loved priest, professor, and writer  is attributed with coining the label "wounded healer." Truly, the last thing I want to hear when I am in the middle of one of those dark stretches of experience life brings is, "this will make you stronger, more compassionate, more [insert positive quality]." Those wise, and possibly true, insights only serve to make me want to pinch/punch the speaker.  Or bury myself in some sugary, carb-y food solace. Neither will help us through these kinds of times. Trust me. Been there. Done that.

Having experienced a number of dark times, it does encourage me to know that they were not without benefit. Looking back, I would not be the woman I am today. Those times were like the chisel that freed this new creation that is me. They shaped me: hammering me into shape, digging out unwanted parts, sanding away at  sharp edges... You know the drill. And people who have suffered these heart-rending processes are more apt to recognize others in the same process. And offer the kindness of simply walking along the painful road with them.

So, dear ones, hang in there. I pray you find a tribe, okay a friend, who will be there with you. Who will listen with love when you share. And know that you will come through this. You are stronger than you think. You are a truly, truly beautiful creature.

And I love you. Bunches.

You Had a Bad Day

I agree with some of you: yesterday (or the day before) was horrible. Memorably so. And with those kind of days comes the temptation to lay down in the dirt and give up. To dredge up all the rotten days long past and stew in all the unfairness and unkindness and misery. The temptation is to make those kinds of days the whole story of our lives. I have faced that temptation countless times. And I will sadly confess to spending more time in the mud of despair than I'd like to admit.

I hate to be the one to say it, but bad days are guaranteed to come. Truly. And crying over them is appropriate. Really. So go ahead and grieve. Don't put a band-aid over things and pretend it's all better before it is. Let yourself experience the pain and loss and sadness.  ...And then let it go.

Don't let that one unbelievably bad day (week...year) be the the whole story of your life. We get to choose which lines and chapters of our lives define us. And, precious one, you story is far from finished. You have so many more experiences ahead. I'm looking forward to hearing your new chapters, to seeing what new strengths and insights grow out of  these challenges you're walking through right this minute. Really.

I certainly don't understand the whys of bad days. And I refuse to minimize how difficult some days can be. But as you're trudging through this particularly lousy day, please remember this is not your story's final chapter.

So keep me posted. Because I love you. Bunches.