The wounded healer arrives on the scene not a moment too soon or too late. She is ready and anchored in the flow of love to lean into the other’s deep pain. She heals with her eyes, her heart, and her hands, using words of comfort and care. She knows how it feels to be hurt and in need, so she never judges the one who has come to be seen. She assesses how deep and wide the wound is and says,
Tell me about your pain . . .
She holds the hand of the trembling one and reminds her to breathe, connecting her back to the source of life. She sees the hurting one drifting away in her mind to places of fear and reminds her it is now safe to stay. She continues:
You are not alone. You may rest now, my dear, and allow this healing light to flow in.
You are not too much as you wail and lash out in pain. You are perfect and worthy of care. You are more than enough, the healer reminds the wounded one as she falls down the long stairs into shame.
Her loving gaze turns on the light, causing the darkness to flee.
I see you down there on the basement floor. I will hold this light on until you find your own. I will wait as long as it takes. I will not rush you or demand you get up. If you need me to, I will climb down and sit with you in the dark. I will put a soft blanket around you, dear one, and hold you until you return to the light of truth. If you rise in anger and push me away, I will give you as much space as you need. I will stand at a distance until you are ready to receive, and I promise: I will not leave.
You will not be abandoned in your pain. I promise you this—even if you struggle to receive.
Your pain does not scare me; I see so much more than the wound. I see the light and the hope in your heart, even if you cannot see. I see your strength underneath the rubble, even when you cannot access it. I see the truth and will remind you, precious one, that the pain is the pathway through.
When you find the strength to rise up, stand firm, beautiful child, and the loving earth will support you. When you are ready, reach for my hand as you step forward in faith. Together we are stronger and better, because to be human is to connect. In our brokenness, we touch our humanity and the truth that only suffering reveals. Holding on to each other in the midst of our fragility, we reorient and remember the original truth: there is a God and we are not s/he!
We are held and supported in healing hands that have been pierced and hung to a tree. These wounded hands are scarred but healed, and are reaching for us in our pain. Once we reach for the hand of the one who is the light of the world, the Light pours through our wound, transforming the very place of pain into our purpose. The wound becomes a scar that we can show to others who bleed and say, “I see you and I understand!”
Pain is inevitable, while suffering is optional. Suffering happens when we run from our pain, dismiss our pain, or cling to it as though it is our true identity.
The truth is: you are not your pain. You are the unshakable LIGHT of the world!
When the pain is present, we will apply gentle pressure to acknowledge and validate what hurts. We will turn toward one another and own our needs, and together, we will heal and rise up to heal others on this sacred journey.
Jean Masukevich is a trauma sensitive yoga teacher and integrative coach with over 20 years of teaching experience. Her mission is to guide others to greater mind, body, Spirit integration and connection to their authentic self. She cultivates communities of care where individuals and groups heal and share their hearts and stories through movement, writing, meditation, integrative prayer, creativity, and the sacred art of listening. Jean holds an advanced certificate in grief and trauma from the Allender Center of the Seattle School of Theology and Psychology, and is a certified Spiritual Director through Sustainable Faith. Jean serves both children and adults and is available for in person and remote coaching. Contact her at Sowthatjean@gmail.com.