Daily Archives: October 19, 2017


Tango of the Wounded Healer – Embracing Bravery

TBHAs with any new skill, trade or information it takes a moment to get to grips with it. Firstly it’s how does it work, followed by what does this do and so it goes on. It’s the same thing when you discover that you’re what’s known as a Wounded Healer. Now to be honest I started at “There’s no such thing”, before I travelled into “This must be a bad thing” before finally arriving at “It’s a brave thing to be here” because being A Wounded Healer is an absolute privilege.

 

TBHHowever, at first I really didn’t understand the concept or what I was meant to do with this knowledge, particularly when you don’t know what to call it. This is one part of this that I have really struggled with for as long as I care to remember. When I began this journey, I started with the SNU (Spiritualist National Union), thinking that this would be the way to go and I had my first brush with abuses of power, but also with what it was possible for me to do.

 

Granted the entire experience was unpleasant, but it was my first brush with being a Wounded Healer. Since that first encounter there have been times when I have walked, then ran in the opposing direction, only to discover that it was always the right direction.

 

(c)2011/10 gdj.graphicdesignjunction.com What I didn’t grasp at that time is the path, this Golden path we all seem to walk, it isn’t one way. The biggest and possibly worst assumption that we can make collectively is that just because linear time dictates that we can not go back in years, doesn’t mean that our path is like that. We can move forward and we can move back along the path, it’s already perfect so there is no way to make a mistake and even if that were to happen, it is already perfect and so it is not a mistake but something to learn from.

 

Even when I turned my back, stopped listening to my calling; a way was found to return me because that was how I was always going to be. It was how it was meant to be, I was still on my Golden Path, all I had done was stepped through the mirror and onto another branch of it, a bit like Alice going through the looking glass; at the other end another mirror and back out on the journey. The lesson being, you can pause, have a breath but sooner or later you will be following your calling.

 

If I am honest until around 7 years ago, I would never have accepted that this was my calling. However there are pivotal moments that completely change you, open you to the possibilities that you have a fated life or a destiny (depending on if you believe in such things). I have often crossed paths with destiny; meeting my husband, meeting my extended family because of a spilt drink and then meeting amazing people through an open invite to my wedding on Social Media.

 

Moments that have changed the course of my life for the better, these moments feel like stepping through mirrors as part of this Golden Path, because sometimes a crossroads or a meeting with Destiny, is fated to change everything. This year has really been a time for release, a time for shedding and a time for letting go of old stagnated energies. So much of this would not have been possible without support from my family, from my husband and mum in particular.

 

(c)2012 Pablo LeboTheir unwavering belief and support has made it okay for me to just let go and be me, to release all the baggage and responsibility that comes with seeing the world differently. I have been dancing to a very intricate tango, learning the moves as I have danced but never felt brave enough to take the lead, until today.

 

The tango is very much like YinYang, for the dance to succeed one must have dominance but rather than the other being subservient, they must bend like a reed in the wind and be supple. The dance originally was between two men, locked in a dance both equals and yet during the dance the roles change as to who is leading who. As Yin will surrender to Yang, so does Yang surrender to Yin, it is the way balance is maintained. It is the way of the Dance.

 

My dance has been about acceptance, understanding that I am a Wounded Healer. Having the understanding of others pain, hurt and loss as well as their joys, loves and journey to beauty.

 

The Wounded Healer, doesn’t try to fix, mend or dictate how another soul should be, instead the Wounded Healer, holds space. The healer will embrace and meet the person where they are and act as a guide. We embrace our bravery and understand that we are reluctant to walk in a world that does not understand us yet, but then in order to heal the wounds that other do not see, we must walk the paths that others cannot know.


The Rites to Reply: Rest in Pieces the Freedoms of Speech…

TBHWe gather here at this time on this blog to pay our respects; indeed it was this very week that the Freedoms of Speech, departed Social Media. It was an unexpected and untimely passing, which seems for many of us to have gone unnoticed. However, for a great many more, the passing of this beautiful and gracious being has a profound impact. Where there was voice, silence now has lease, where there was once safety, the Sword of Damocles now hangs.

 

TBHThe sense of danger now dangles, upon the last strands of that ancient steed’s hair, as the profiles fade to black. As we gather to remember the Freedom, as it was before the weekend, I am reminded of some words spoken at the time of passing… “When all blame is laid at the feet of the innocents, made to feel responsible for the acts of a few, will that make the world better? When all the responsibility has been handed out, given to all the wrong people, and those who it belongs to are dust, will the world be healed?”

 

TBHAs I look around at the blackened profiles, the sad emojis and the empty comments box, I find that I mourn for that Freedom and I ask “When the last sorry is uttered by the last innocent soul, will forgiveness be given to the forefathers and foremothers? When the last of us stands at the mouth of the dead rain forest, will that valuable contribution online matter? In the echoes, the screams, in our blindness and blame, will the illicit pointed finger of complicitness be as dumbstruck as listening to the power of positive trending?”

 

Peering into the crucible as echoes and the screams of popular finger pointing trends, froths up, boils over; I wonder, will nothing become better? When will the healing be done? Because after the dust has settled and the last sorry whispered at the mouth of the dead trees, no one will know what the foremothers and forefathers taught us. The comments boxes will still be empty, the profiles will still be black and the innocents will have been cast out from Social Media.

 

As the tide of scathing posts and malicious memes scald the blameless, deafen the silent and slaughter innocence, will that satisfy the need for blood? As the last Y and the last X Chromosome are sacrificed upon the altars of The Cyan Bird and The Mighty White F, will that mean all is forgiven? Will that #cleanse and #heal the genderless rift? Will that make the illicitness of being complicity ignorant alright?

 

As we gaze at our brightly lit gods, waiting with heads bowed in silent scrolling, let us hashtag and reflect. Let us post as I read out the last Eulogy and Rites of our beloved Freedom; “Will the crime of having no knowledge punishable through the trail of social media be made better, when the blind author obeys and says sorry through woeful fingers? Will the jury of peers #like or thumbs down, as the last YX child drags his coffin and gets ready to fall upon his password login, before he can grow up and do no harm? and she rises from the ashen pyres of scorn upon scorn for being true to their own knowing, will that allow them to post once again?

 

Lets us depart dear ones, as frenemies; hand in hand and forever distant, separated by the poisoned chalice of social media and let us forget now that each one of us has the Rites of Reply, as we bid farewell and commit The Freedoms of Speech to barren and binary land before us. Remembering how they taught us that If when we post hate online, those words won’t anoint, and the holy waters of comments and likes won’t wash us clean.

 

Instead it will rise up like a tide of poison and try as we might to scream from the bullhorn of perceived justice of being right, the false truth will be strapped to our ankles and as we sink down into the bottomless well of silence; maybe then we will notice how all around, everyone else is more comfortable remaining voiceless, and maybe then we’ll remember, dear Freedoms of Speech, who is no longer there, because this is after all its last rites.

Amen.