The Art of Healing

Listen time: 3 mins 55 secs.

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When I was a child the concept of healing was simple—tangible.

Like a fresh cut that would bruise before eventually scabbing and turning flesh colored again…Or, having less snot on my face because my body was recovering from a cold.

Healing was simple. Healing was tangible.

Nowadays, healing feels like such an abstract concept.

Just until a few years ago, I didn't know that there were intangible things about my life that could be healed.

“Huh? Childhood trauma? What is that?”

“Toxic relationships? What is that?”

“Imposter syndrome! WHAT IS THAT?!”

“I need to HEAL…those things?”

I remember some people would speak to me about '“healing” as if it is an indication of my brokenness— my “fucked-up-ness.” As if I was defective. But…I didn’t know I was broken... I didn’t know I needed to be fixed. The over-achiever in me took charge!

“If I can just do ____________, then that would mean I am healing.”

“If I can act like __________, then that would mean that I am growing.”

Healing, in the early stages, felt like a show and tell of my trauma and all the ways I was being a “woke ass b*tch” by fixing it. But that is the thing… I was not broken, nor did I need to be fixed. Healing is so much more nuanced than that.

Generality is where kindness goes to die.

I stopped glossing over my pain and hurt. I actually started to hold space for myself and specifically began to identify the root causes of my pain and what I needed from myself and others in order to truly heal.

I needed to be vulnerable.

I needed support.

I needed family and friends.

I needed to be heard.

I needed to be kind to myself.

I needed to love myself.

The more I practiced self-love, reflection and specificity, the more I understood the art of healing. Healing, much like art at times, is not measurable—

its definition: subjective.

Its impact: profound yet fleeting.

The critique— critical.

One’s ability to articulate the way it makes you feel—difficult at times.

One’s innate need for it—always.

My need for healing had nothing to do with me being broken, but everything to do with the hopes of a young girl, shattered and channeled into a kaleidoscope of colors, shapes, and blurred dreams. Sometimes I cannot interpret the meaning behind this image. I must relax my eyes and let the forms take shape as I slowly twist the kaleidoscope in my hands in order to:

see the beauty in myself and my suffering,

be at peace with what has happened without pause,

This is a journey I am still embarking on to this day. But I find great solace in understanding that healing is an art. I am its creator— building the world for it to live in its fullest expression…through my joy, love, and peace…and hope.