Last week I was at a training that focused on using our deepest wounds as our gift to the world, and much of this article comes from my learnings there. While a lot of this I haven’t yet integrated into myself, I thought it deeply important to share with all of you.
As empaths, we are easily wounded. Rarely does a day go by when something of the world doesn’t hurt or impact us. Many of us also carry deep childhood wounds, and all of us carry the wounds of our ancestors. This is a challenging life to live, but it’s my belief that we chose this life for ourselves.
You may have heard of the saying that your wound is your gift, but rarely has it been elaborated on. It’s hard to imagine how this can be true, especially because many of our wounds were created in such horrific situations, they are often too painful to even speak of. This whole idea is a bit of a cliché, but so is everything until you live it for yourself.
Here are 5 reasons why our wound is a gift, courtesy of Dr Estés:
- It gives us the ability to know first hand the agony in others and to help them.
- Our greatest strength comes from healing our wound.
- The light of our wound allow us see things that’s aren’t seeable by others.
- We can access the divine through our wound.
- It forces us to moves us towards understanding, which keeps humanity glued together.
My original wound is abandonment and it’s taken me a long time to understand how that is a gift. After decades of feeling unworthy and alone and letting those two things unconsciously inform all my behaviour (making it very self destructive), I’m finally beginning to see how it really was a gift.
Although abandonment was my wound, it was also my medicine. It freed and liberated me from the bounds of our culture and it forced me to figure out what was right for me from a very early age. This means I’ve lived a life unto myself so far—full of independant thought, not buying into what the world tells me I should do, and living my truth. And when I really consider it, there are few greater gifts I could ever recieve.
And this same logic goes for all of my wounds, even the more minor ones—the things I spent a lot of time crying over were ironically the very things that forced me to become the person I am.
So I invite you to begin to unravel your wound. It takes years to do this, maybe even a lifetime and I don’t think we ever fully heal them—Dr Estés says that ‘wounds are tender to the touch forever.’ But from them, we find our voice, we create our art and we see the world fully, with all it’s beauty and sadness, darkness and the light, love and fear. Right there, in the wound itself, you will find medicine and you will find a gift.