Heal First. Then Live.

In my Rabbi’s Yom Kippur eve talk, he spoke about what we hold on to and what we let go of. Then he used the phrase “wound worshiping”. That got my attention.

We all have wounds. That’s part of the deal of being incarnated. Some have deeper wounds than others. Some people have experienced unspeakably profound wounds. He used the words “wound worship” not to ignore the truth of our lived experience, but to raise the possibility that our wounds are events to be processed, not events or memories to remain attached to.

And yes, some wounds are so deep it may be impossible to let go of them this time around.

But I have also seen humans who have gone through the unimaginable and moved on into lives of giving and receiving great love.

My rabbi asked, what do you gain by not letting go?

I’ve been thinking about that and it’s the familiarity of “the story” and my place in it. But I’ve been doing the deep work of letting go of the past and learning to forgive. I’m getting there, but I'm not there yet.

My father was a tough father to have. And he died young without the opportunity to become whom he might have. What would happen if I let go of my story, not the truth of what happened, but my attachment to it? I would relive his painful death twice—once when I buried him, and then again, losing the familiarity of my story, the one I’ve held on to all these years. Then he is really gone.

The pain of the past is sometimes, in its own way, safer than total loss, and the freedom from it.

But I’m betting that’s a road worth walking down. I know there's freedom in those hills.

Heal first. Then Live.

(Painting by Marc Chagall)