Healing is not a state where we become liberated from feeling, but freer to experience it more fully.
To enter inside a mood, image, or emotion and be touched by its color, fragrance, and essence. To know firsthand the rarity and preciousness of having a human body, a sometimes shattered heart, and a miraculous, sensitive nervous system.
Not a transcending of our vulnerability, fleeing into a state of power and untouchability, safely hidden away in some protected spiritual cocoon. But something a bit wilder than that. Something more magical. More raw. At times, even more painful.
For some reason, we were given a heart that is whole, and we will never be satisfied with that which is partial. We will never be fully alive by embracing only those feelings and those dreams that our families, societies, and gurus claim are worthy and valid. But only through the courage and the mercy required to touch it all.
To partake of the entirety of the spectrum of this human experience, with as much curiosity, soul, and kindness that we can discover. To give ourselves permission to care, to take a risk in allowing another to matter, and tend to the heart it inevitably breaks in response to suffering, disappointment, and despair.
To see for ourselves to what degree the unconscious quest for power, mastery, certainty, and invulnerability may be an expression of fear, not love.
To at times crumble to the ground in awe at it all. Awestruck at the bounty that has been laid out before us. To fall apart. To fail. To get back up. To be humble again. To start over. To be a beginner. An amateur at the ways of love.
To realize how little we know in the face of the mystery.