I was reminded today healing happens, but it takes time. More than a week ago, I cut my finger pretty badly. I think the verb I used was ‘clove,’ since I whacked it w/ my brand-new cleaver.
As you can see, it’s pretty much back to normal. A little tender, needing some attention now & then to make sure it doesn’t get bumped, but no more double BandAids and Neosporin.
I’m sure you can tell where I’m going with this…
The problem w/ a blog is that you often want to write about your life, or the lives of those whose lives touch and colour our own. And you can’t, in good conscience, always do that. Privacy and confidentiality are gifts we give our loved ones. But I struggle, when I don’t know what to do or say to family and friends who are suffering.
So the reminder — via my poor finger! — that time alone can heal some injuries is welcome. It’s not what I tell people when they hurt (it can sound pretty cold, if you’re hurting), but it comforts me, at least. When I don’t know what to do for people I love, and I can’t ask others for help? I breathe, as my son says in his own blog. I practice tonglen, offering up my own confusion and unhappiness for my friends & family.
It often doesn’t feel like enough — just like the double BandAids didn’t satisfy my poor guilt-ridden sister when I cut my finger. But it’s suprisingly effective. It just needs time. And we have far more of that than we pretend.