top of page

Living a New Life

Musings of the Day

Being a Healer

What does healing actually mean? Aren’t we all healing from something? I’m not sure I know anyone with any degree of consciousness who isn’t dealing with something these days. You don’t get through life unscathed.

I was reading a post on social media this morning about being a healer and it gave me pause. Normally I wouldn’t put myself in that category, but after reflecting a bit, I realize that this is exactly what I’ve been offering for years in one way or another. First, as a coach and teacher, and now through my art and writing. Even the fabric creations I make have been created for that very purpose. It comes naturally to me to offer healing because it’s what I have needed for myself all my life. Comfort. Love. A sense of belonging and safety. Healing from trauma.

I had an experience with this recently, one that took me a bit by surprise in its intensity. A very old wound that I believed had been “healed” and buried, was scratched and reopened. The impact on my health, my wellbeing and my ability to function fully, was so great that I am still reeling from it. It took every last bit of my reserves to just get through the experience and now I am left completely drained. I bring this up because it showed me that healing is an ongoing process, not something that happens, and you’re done. It happens in layers. The surface layer sometimes seems the hardest to deal with because it is fresh, and the wounds haven’t scabbed over. But my experience lately has shown me that the deeper layers carry with them a level of pain that hits closer to the heart and soul.

Having gone through this period of reawakened trauma, it is now apparent to me that bringing healing to my body and my heart is going to require something different than it did when I first experienced this. The healing has to reach deeper, be more potent than ever. Can I do that with the means I’ve used in the past or does this call for something new?

Pondering this in the wee hours this morning, I realize that the healer in me, the one who offers healing to others through my art, needs to be released from offering to anyone else for a while. The healer now needs to heal herself, to use whatever means possible to give those old wounds time and space to scab over again. This is a deeper cut, an unanticipated one and as such, it might just take a bit longer to heal. But when it does, the healing will be more complete, reach deeper and last longer than it did before. This is the kind of healing I was asking for when I went into this surgery. Release. Freedom. I am getting what I intended, but it is happening in a way that is requiring me to see it differently, live it differently and heal it in a new way. It is truly about living in a new way.

I hesitate to call myself a healer, but the truth is that healing is what my life has been about for decades. And one thing that has become clear to me in this process is that when I heal myself, the ripples of that touch others. Without me trying, without me calling myself one thing or another, my own healing offers others the opportunity to do the same. In that sense, perhaps we are all healers of some sort. We are all connected and affecting one another whether we are aware of it or not. One word, one picture, can be a healing balm to someone on the receiving end. You don’t have to hang a shingle to bring healing to someone else. I might venture to say that to heal our world, all there is to do is heal ourselves and allow others the space to do the same.



bottom of page