Reflections on healing

Healing our wounds is terrifying ... the wounds become part of who we are, or who we think we are - how we define and view ourselves.

We rely on them, especially if they form part of the foundations on which we build ourself from ... if we start excavating, even just a little, the tower of ourselves threatens to fall .... and then we'd have to start rebuilding. And it will be a new, possibly completely unfamiliar person we will become - and for most of us, the fear of the unknown is far too great. We're content to keep with the Devil we know.

It's a lot easier to keep the status quo, make friends with our demons, put some sticky plaster over our wounds and get on with life. However when we do this, we live a lie, we create a world in which we cannot be truly open to our own greatness, to truly and deeply experience and enjoy the world in which we live, the relationships we engage in, pursue our intersts with real passion, be honestly and authentically happy ...

My wounds are deep - they are sexual, they hurt, they ache, they strike at the core of my being as a woman. They sadly define great chunks of who I am.

I think I am ready to start that excavation though ... in actual fact I've already begun ... as early on as Week Two of working on The Artist Way memories surfaced, I began making links between the past and the present.

However I dont think it was until this evening I was really willing to confront them - to make them real, physically in my hand, symbolic and out of body - rather than thoughts in my head, experiences kept locked in my body. I put them all together and created something new and beautiful from the guilt, the shame, the warping, the pain, the hollowness, the fear, the violence, the powerlessness. Now I have a new mask in which to wear - a new and beautiful way to see the world and myself.

Its a risk to take ... perhaps the biggest risk of all - to decide that we are worth healing and to look for a new reflection in the pond, a new face to wear proudly and openly.