The wounded healer isn’t only a myth or historical figure we can learn about, but a living reality and atmosphere of the heart, with its own unique fragrance, signature, and color. A never-before-seen blue, an unknown red, an unexpected yellow.
The Asklepion healing dream temple isn’t only a literal structure in which pilgrims would enter seeking vision, but an interior place and landscape found within this miracle earthy body.
Inside the mandala, love is behind the scenes and spinning out the worlds – the messy, chaotic, and glorious dimensions of what it means to be a relational, sensitive, sometimes tenderized, sometimes shattered human being.
At times, we will ache and feel alone, crafted as we are to rest and explore in the arms of another, to dance with the Other within the strands of the scintilla of light.
But the nature of this “Other” is of the mystery and will shift shapes, taking infinite and unexpected forms to remind us of what is truly happening here, hidden just behind the veil of habitual networks and matrices of intergenerational trauma and trance.
The invitation from within the garden is to twirl, spin, and dance within the bounty that has been given, which requires that we peer behind the covering and see, and allow ourselves to be astonished.