Is there something more important than healing?
Last year was ending and I felt the need of something deeper, I was desperate of myself, of my daily life, of the world… yes, who isn’t nowadays, right? But the thing is, I could take it anymore: Maybe we get used to feeling hopeless, tired, angry, sick. Life becomes hard, like a swamp we cannot longer go through. We start envying others' ability to live and laugh, the pain starts growing as violence towards ourselves, others and whoever surrounds us.
We don't trust in others, in ourselves, in God. Suddenly we’re also part of what is hurting us, we hurt others. And like this villain in a movie “If I’m bad at doing good, I’m gonna be good at doing bad”. We feel like we are one with darkness. We’re scared, we notice our wounds and the pain we cause others… we let it consume us: “Is there another way? Nothing can be changed. Life is painful and that’s it. There’s nothing more about life.”
Lies like that one start growing inside our minds and our hearts: I hurt people, I can’t change, I deserve this guilt, I deserve darkness, I’m part of darkness.
We judge others for the pain they create, and we ask them to pay. Hell starts growing inside us.
That’s why it’s called healing: we’ve fallen sick, we’ve gone through a war between the desire for love and revenge, the desire for life and to kill, the role of victims and of perpetrators.
How do you heal someone who is sick? Not by more fighting, not by telling them is their fault, not by falling sick with them, not by telling them to ignore their realizations and wounds.
In a broken world, it’s normal to fall broken. Those moments allow us to experience in our own bodies what is happening in the world. We realize we cannot live in a ‘pink bubble’ but we also cannot live in a black hole.
Both are a lie: we are complex, we cannot judge how things must be… we also fall sick by playing God. That’s why we need dialogue, constant examination, constant forgiveness… because we’re not meant to be perfect, but to be brothers discovering together we’re naturally love, goodness and beauty.
Sick people cannot fight. Fighting not one another or even with ourselves: but the hells we create inside ourselves and in our environments.
I don’t know if we can heal ourselves… we also need someone else: and so our fragilities become a place of hope to trust again.
And how do we know we’re healing? When we stop feeling god, when we contemplate instead of judging, when we heal instead of punishing, when we’re no longer confused and afraid: instead we honour our complexities and become curious artisans of unity.
