Healing the Healer

DKHillard
2 days ago
2 min read

Does anyone want to see what’s real?

Not the curated, pretty version. The real, gritty, sometimes painful truth that most of us try to hide.

Should we only share what's polished and “inspirational”?

Or is there space for what’s actually healing—even if it’s not always easy to witness?

If you're here for a quick fix or spiritual entertainment, this probably isn’t for you.

I’ve shared so much of my creative work—my Soul Wraptures, my Bubbe Pillows, my writing. And I love that part of my life. But it’s time to pull back the curtain a little more. Because behind every piece I create, there’s a deeper truth:These aren’t just offerings. They are my lifelines.

I was in the hospital recently—an unexpected overnight stay, and not for the reasons you’d expect. Medically, they had no answers. But something else happened there. Something sacred.

I had brought my Soul Wrapture and Bubbe Pillow with me—something I wouldn't have ordinarily done for myself. I thought it was more for comfort than healing, but amidst the sterility and noise of that hospital room, wrapped in my own creations, something else happened. Something sacred.

My body softened.

My spirit settled.

I felt safe.

And I knew.

I had been making these pieces for years, pouring medicine into them for others. But in that hospital room, it hit me:I had been making them for myself.

I just hadn’t allowed myself to receive my own medicine.

Like so many healers, I forgot I was also the one in need. I kept searching for answers "out there," when the deepest healing had already been woven through my own hands.

Now, I’ve reached a place where there’s nowhere left to turn but inward. The doctors are baffled. The treatments are hollow. And the only thing left is truth.

I am my own medicine.

That is terrifying and miraculous at once. Because now, there is no more pretending. I have to live what I know—embody the energy I’ve shared with so many others. This is my guidance to BE the healer for myself first.

So I’ve paused most of my outer obligations for now.

I’m listening.

Deeply.

Allowing.

Creating only when Spirit moves me.

Resting when that’s the call.

Receiving what I’ve always been giving.

This is the real work.

Not the polished version.

The sacred unraveling and reweaving of a life.

And I’m doing it in full trust that the threads I was gifted before birth are still here, waiting to be picked up.

If you’re walking a similar path—or even just whispering toward one—know this:Your healing is not outside you. It lives in your bones, your breath, your remembering.

And if you're curious about the Wraptures, the Bubbe Pillows, the energy I infuse into each piece—know that they come from this place.

Not just beauty, but truth.

Not just art, but medicine.

Let me know if you want to feel it for yourself.