stormWe live in a society obsessed about fixing wounds and finding remedies. We judge, analyze, and create theories about our wounds. We think we are not ok because of our wounds. We take them apart and put them back together. We believe if we could just heal this childhood trauma and cure that emotional disorder, we would finally be happy and free.

You can always find more wounds to heal, if you so choose. You can camp in a therapist’s office for the rest of your life, and with the right amount of clinical encouragement, I guarantee you would never run out of things to talk about.

You can choose to see your life as an endless struggle back to wholeness, or you can choose to see the truth.

The truth is that to be born is to be wounded. There is no exception, including you.

Remember how you got started here? You were just dreaming an innocent dream one day in the snugly heaven they called a womb. You were minding your own business, not bothering anybody. But then suddenly and without warning, they threw you out of heaven like a piece of poop, into this strange, harsh world where every gulp of cold air you breathe in seemed to cause pain. Talk about trauma!

You didn’t know at the time that it was only the beginning of what would turn out to be a gruesome adventure called earth life. If a fortuneteller were to predict a child’s future, the following could be part of the standard text that she’d use on pretty much everyone:

You would be dropped to the ground (sometimes literally), and you would cry. Your progress would be thwarted at every turn. You would know heartache, betrayal, loneliness, and hurt. You would one day question the value of your existence and at the same time be haunted by the prospect of death. Good luck and have fun!

And not to mention the ever-present longing of our soul to merge back with all there is. For some, this sense of separation from the Source is an “original wound” that seems to never heal.

For many people, wounds become the stories we tell ourselves of why we feel small, inadequate, broken, and closed. They become our reason for not truly living. We hold back and build a cocoon around our heart, so that no further injuries would be risked.

But here’s the thing. You’re not inferior because you are wounded. Just to the opposite, the only reason that you have wounds is because you have battled and won, that you have gone through the unthinkable and now come out the other end…still standing strong. Whatever your therapist/healer/coach might say, the only reason you are still here is because you are bigger than your wounds, stronger than your pain, and more powerful than any pathological labels the smart experts at Harvard care to put on you.

You are not wounded because of bad karma or unfavorable fate. Neither are you wounded because of stupidity or naivete. Far from it. You are wounded only because that’s the most efficient way for you to discover your innate power. Because it’s only when you’re broken open and knocked off balance that you learn to surrender your little system of opinions and beliefs and realize just how free you really are.

And ultimately, you are wounded because you’re called to look at yourself through the eyes of love, and discover that you do not need more fixing (in fact, you cannot be more perfect than what you already are). Because your wounds are inspirations for love, for the kind of unconditional love that would be the best gift you could give to this world and the beings in it, including yourself.

Wear your wounds like a badge of honor. Because they are.

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