I remember when I first started therapy long ago, I had the expectation that I was going to fix myself. With my grit determination and desire for truth I was going to rid myself of all the unconscious actions and negative feelings, I was going to eventually right all my wrongs. Unfortunately one of life’s most difficult lessons is that no matter how much you want to change, no matter how hard you try to fix the intimate deep scars all over your soul, you can’t. Scars are left for a reason. They are permanent damage created by pain that can never be undone. The scar itself is part of the healing process, and is a reminder of the significant happening.
There’s no such thing as arriving on the journey of self discovery. We just notice special mementos along the way that help us mark the path so we can measure how far we’ve come and maybe, just maybe others can find their way a little easier. When we see them with new eyes, scars can be some of those markings of remembrance instead of ugly mistakes. Scars can be sacred altars. I have both physical and emotional scars that remind me I am who I am partly because of my experiences and my responses to those experiences.
For instance, I have a visible scar on my right forearm left by the excited claw of our then 1 year old Shiba Inu, Wally. It bled and hurt for several days and now years later is a silvery/white line that forever connects me with Wally who lived 14 years and left us over two years ago. I’m thankful for his visible mark left on my arm as it connects me to the invisible mark he left on my heart and soul.
Our scars are not just ugly mistakes that we need to cover up or try to expunge. Our scars connect us to the vulnerable places of our hearts which are holy, reminding us of our sadness, our helplessness, our brokenness, and it is here we find the sacred…where we look for and find God. It’s here where we admit we don’t have all the answers.
I am broken-hearted, but not broken. I feel despair but still find hope. I am scarred and wounded, but I choose to be open and vulnerable. In my weakness, God is strong, and somehow I become stronger in this acceptance of damage and vulnerability. In this time of uncertainty and distrust my prayer is that we all will talk and post less and listen more, that we will evaluate and examine our hearts for prejudices and defensiveness and let others see our scars and vulnerabilities, that we will stop trying so hard to be right and strive to be compassionate instead. We all are on difficult individual journeys, and we need each other’s company and companionship along the way. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey,” with all of its twists and turns, unexpected joys and pitfalls, and marks along the way.
Seasons of the Soul 