I’m not sure how I feel about healing anymore.

I’m not sure how I feel about self-help anymore.

Someone recently reminded me of the importance of continuing to do the work on myself.

I thought really? More work. On my ‘self’? Ugh.

I then began to wonder if I was just being triggered by the word work. If they phrased it differently, would I have been bothered at all?

Is this trigger a sign of unhealed trauma within? Or is all this self-help work turning into self-obsession?

Don’t get me wrong, I think we could all benefit from taking a look at ourselves, our past and our pain, to understand what’s driving us to do what we are doing, to live how we are living. To make beneficial healthy changes.

A constant want to heal and fix and better can be admirable and beautiful, but it can also feel like constantly trying to control the uncontrollable.

Like popping the bonnet of your car again and again just to make sure everything is in order.

I wonder if I’m missing out on some golden moments cos I’m busy shovelling deeper and deeper into my own shit. Repenting for my sins, avoiding any quick fix.

Healing isn’t easy. That’s what we say.

But can’t it be easy sometimes? Can’t it be fun too? Can’t we roll around in the dirt acknowledging it, removing the shame from it, then toss the mud in the air and laugh and cry and wrap our arms around one another like little kids.

How does one define whether they are healed or not? At what point do we decide we’re good to go, like a new toy being shipped to the store. How does one put steps in place to make sure they remain healed and are never harmed again and do no harm again?

Being so cautious to avoid any damage sounds like there is too much pressure and not much room for living.

I have always loved inspirational speeches and been obsessed with becoming my most optimum self. Making the most out of my life and seeing what my full potential is. An energy rises up inside me after I listen to them and I feel like anything is possible. But sometimes dread creeps in on an ordinary day when I am running on empty, tired from a lack of sleep, and I wonder – could I be doing better?

But we are not robots or mobile devices constantly needing upgrades and improvements.

What if we don’t heal or become our full selves from punishment and control and working hard in isolation, but from connection and love and joy and rest and understanding. From allowing for the messiness of the human experience?

As humans we crave belonging and a sense of safety, but we fear being misunderstood and rejected. So when we come together of course there will be triggers and fears and uncertainty and chaos as we unknowingly prod at one another’s wounds.

Maybe we are here to feel it and express it, not heal it and perfect it.

I don’t know. But then again, who does.