I've been thinking a lot about hurting and healing lately — as I approach the end of the first draft of my latest novel, where I've *really* made my darlings suffer… (just so the healing feels all the better when it happens, of course!)
Also I've just moved into an apartment block where one resident who is clearly suffering is causing a lot of pain for others.
And I'm watching JK Rowling and other gender-critical feminists projecting misplaced pain onto a vulnerable minority (many of whom are also riddled with hurt).
So thoughts:
- Hurt is a given in life. As the Buddha said, “suffering happens”.
- Hate is an indicator of hurt–as is indifference and withdrawal.
- If we don’t heal our own suffering, we bleed on people who didn’t hurt us.
- The soul usually knows what to do to heal. The challenge is to soothe the reactions of mind and body, so emotional healing can happen.
- Healing takes time.
- Healing also needs certain conditions, some of which are increasingly rare in our world–solitude, quiet, rest, support, understanding.
- Understanding is needed from others but perhaps mostly from ourselves. “People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar.” Thich Nhat Hanh
A writer must not be defeated by the hurt of the world–but show how all things hurt, and all things can be healed.
I know it's Friday and this is my fiction slot but I'd like to offer one of my poems here. It's called Love Hurts? No Way
Love hurts, they say.
I say, no way.
The only thing that never hurts
is love.
Lust festers,
envy bites.
Loss skewers,
rejection spikes.
Passion burns,
craving seethes.
Romance dazzles,
lonesome bleeds.
Well yes,
indeed.
But none of the above
is love.
Love helps,
love lights.
Love warms,
love rights.
Love soothes,
love feeds.
Love calms,
love heals.
Oh yes,
what will heal
the sting of pain,
and make your life
feel good again,
(again,
again,
and yet again),
is love.
Love hurts, they say.
I say no way.
The only thing that never hurts
is love.