Healing

'It will never really heal.' Frodo, LOTR
'Then we'll always be freaks.' Jane, American beauty
'What if I don't WANT to make it any better?' Phoenix, X-Men III

 We have a new cat, who is two years old. He was abandoned by his owners, and lived as a stray for an indeterminate period until being picked up by the Young-Williams animal shelter. He went home with one family, who returned him after a week, and then was adopted by us. As you might imagine, he has had some difficulty in adjusting, being wary in general and even aggressive toward our dog. He has gone through the house howling plaintively for whatever it is he has lost. Our late cat Mao used to do this on occasion, looking for his brother with whom he had played so much.

So what does it mean to heal? How do you form, or reform, a life after trauma, illness or loss? All the phrases above apply in one way or another to everyone, and our cat's experience is a non-human, non-verbal expression of what we also all experience.

First, it will never really heal. Fascial incisions never reach the full strength of native tissue, only about 95% of it. When we lose something very early, a parent, or, more damagingly, security and safety, these things also never really heal. We will always be emotionally hurt. Like the cat, we will howl internally for what we long for and have lost. Sometimes, we will howl externally for it as well, expressed as depression, inappropriate sexuality and substance abuse. Society looks more or less well on these behaviors, condemning drug abuse, tolerating many types of sexual misconduct, and accepting the grossest kind of overeating.

Second, we will always be freaks. Those who have lost and hurt will always be a little different. When the loss occurs as an adult, we have appropriate mechanisms to provide support and context to our loss. When it occurs as a child, we will be different forever. If there has been a loss of trust and safety, we will always be wary, like the cat. We will always be a little harder to approach, even as we need more, not less, emotional reassurance and attention.

The last is the most troublesome. What if we don't want to make it better? What if we glory in our pain, wear it on our sleeves, use it to define who we are and what we can do? We all know people who do this. It is au courant to call such behavior 'addiction', or we see evidently damaged people excusing their gross misbehavior on others and situations rather than themselves.

How then, do we heal? There is a paradox clearly expressed by our cat. It is more difficult to give the cat the love he needs when he is skittish and aggressively defensive. An important part of healing is a willingness to be vulnerable to the world and hurt in opening yourself emotionally. No one wants to hug a porcupine, and no one wants to approach a person who is aloof and cold. We must be willing to hurt in order to heal.

We must recognize that we carry our own problems, and no one else. No one else is responsible for us. While not 'blaming the victim' in cases of rape, child abuse and the like, healing is not possible while simply blaming the past for present trouble. We simply have to recognize how we are changed or injured by our experiences, and then work around and through it. This would be easier if the injury were external and visible. No one asks a person in a wheelchair to go up a flight of steps. Because the injuries are internal it is all the more important to understand how we are affected, and in understanding ourselves make the adjustments we need, rather than expecting them from others.

No matter how hard we work at these things, we never fully heal. That is an important part of healing as well. There is no magic bullet that makes pain and loss go away. No matter how full a life we build, there is always an injured part, that can express itself at the oddest times. If we expect that title, money, children, spouse, work will make pain go away, they will not. None of them do. Pain only goes away from the inside.

'Salvation is found within.' The Warden in The Shawshank Redemption.

Indeed, The Shawshank Redemption is a nice representation of descent into hell and resurrection, passing literally through sewage and darkness to find new life. In looking inward for solutions, I have always found meditation, or prayer, to be essential. I'm a fan of psychotherapy, having had a psychiatrist for a mother, but I feel prayer is essential in seeking understanding. The gifts of the spirit are spiritual, and these are just the sort of things needed for spiritual injury and healing. I believe God speaks to us if we will only listen. The answers we receive may not be obvious or even desired, but they have always been true in my experience. Faith for me is not so much an outward conformation to belief as it is a trusting of that voice, even when what it says seems ridiculous. It is not. Insofar as full healing is possible, it is only possible through that voice, the voice of God.

Ted