Healing

'I don't know if what I'm going to say is going to hurt or help, but screw it. Do you know what's really happening right now? You're learning what it's like to be human. All humans are aware of death. So we're all a little bit sad. All the time. That's just the deal'.
-Eleanor Shellstrop from The Good Place

Don't worry- this won't be a whole post about death (at least not this one). But it will be about the sometimes insurmountable task of being human- of the learning, the flailing, the falling apart, the breaking down, the healing. (Wait, isn't that what all these posts are about?) Specifically, in this post, it'll be about the healing.
What does it even mean to 'heal'? And for that matter, what does it mean to 'break' or 'be broken'?
If we were lucky, as children, the worst that might have happened was we fell down and scraped our knee; mommy would kiss it; a few tears would be shed; a bandaid applied, and miraculously, a week or so later, we would be 'healed'. Perhaps a scar would be left from 'that time when...' but for the most part, that might be all that's left from those first initial 'breaks'.
As we go throughout life, however, those metaphorical scrapes get bigger. Deeper wounds like a debilitating illness, prolonged trauma, severe heart break, loss, or grief, don't magically disappear under a bandaid (as big a one as we might try to put on). The scars left behind become almost their own wounds; the scar tissue itself becoming so thick and dense that we can barely trace or remember the initial source of the pain. Not to mention the continual aches and pains that arise in everyday life. And then, on top of (or underneath) it all, not only are we expected to carry our own residual wounds and scars but those of our parents and their parents as well, much like we might carry mom's cheekbones or dad's propensity to gain weight easily. It is a lot to deal with, much more to heal from.
Yet everything, the joys and the griefs, the hurts and the heals, can be an opportunity from which to grow. Just as everything we experience, good and bad, can become a part of us, it can also be released. Just as that scar may remain or a memory linger, they can also fade; and we can be reminded that everything always can change and that everything always can heal, in some way. Below and beyond all wounds, all scars, all memories, is the body's natural propensity to heal itself. It is our nature to be whole and unbroken.
Unfortunately, rather than accepting the wholeness of who we are, much of the time we spend is spent wishing those unwanted, broken parts of ourselves away- the conceptual equivalent of holding onto our ears, shutting our eyes, and scream-singing 'Do-on't stop be-lievin!' at the top of our lungs. Part of coming into tune with ourselves, is to open our eyes, take our fists off our ears, be quiet and begin to listen, to really listen, to the sound of our own inner health, calling us back to wholeness.
And when we can begin to embrace our inherent nature to be whole, we can begin to support those parts of ourselves still in pain. When we can fully embrace the wholeness of our human experience, all of it, the broken, neglected or forgotten parts of ourselves as much as the vital, vibrant, and healthy parts of ourselves, we can truly, lovingly, and graciously, begin to heal.