Healing has no Ceiling

Healing Has No Ceiling

One summer when I was about seven, while spending a week with my cousins, I skinned my knee in such a hideous way that I couldn’t even bear to look at it. My Aunt Helen took me into the kitchen, propped me up on the counter, and began to care for the wound. I was terrified and traumatized, but her steady authority and focused care healed a part of me I didn’t even know was hurting. Was it the gentle assurance of her voice, the steady gaze of compassion? All I know is that the moment is still ringing in my cells. I felt like a feral cat that had somehow been adopted, for that moment, by a queen who generously filled my milk bowl with cream, and she touched something far beneath the skin, an ancient thirst. She applied a thick, cooling salve, followed by the largest Band-Aid I had ever seen.

My aunt was a nurse, and Band-Aids were her business. In our home, when a wound appeared, we were pretty much on our own. The approach was “brush it off and move along,” or in more serious cases, you got a wad of toilet tissue held under the faucet. Nothing wrong with those rustic modes of healing—it was all I had known, and it worked.

But under the careful care of my Aunt Helen, I was immersed in the art of care and learned many lessons from that oversized Band-Aid. First off, I loved it. I didn’t know you could love a Band-Aid, but I did. I loved how it looked, how it felt, and the love it represented.

But all good things must end. The day came when the Band-Aid was no longer my friend. It had grown uglier than the wound itself, filled with dirt, lint, and sand—and it was time to pull it off. Again, my aunt was there. She sat beside me as I slowly peeled the edges from my skin, each attempt bringing a wave of pain and fear.

“You just have to rip it off fast,” she said gently. “It’ll be less painful.”

“I can’t,” I admitted.

“Come here,” she said.

And as I moved to her side, she reached down. With one clean, powerful gesture, she separated me from the Band-Aid. It was quick and painful, and then it was done. I felt sideswiped. Where had that kind and gentle care gone? Tears welled up in my eyes as we both looked down at the scabbed mess of my knee.

“Now it needs air and sunlight,” she said. “Now the real healing begins.”

I looked up at her in confusion. No more Band-Aid? But it was so cool, and it had been working so well!

“No,” she said. “No more Band-Aid. It needs sunlight and air. Exposure to the elements will do the trick.”

Exposure could be healing? I have come to find that her remedies were sound.

Each morning during the Miracles Live gatherings, people from all walks of life share experiences, from major traumas to quiet griefs, that they have overcome or are coming through. They have the scars but no longer need the Band-Aid. The wound is now part of the perfection, not something to be hidden or feared.

And sometimes, when the wound is fresh and the wounded is brave, something remarkable happens. There is a collective healing: tears, nodding heads, and an outpouring of appreciation. This vulnerability is how we rip the Band-Aid off our shared classrooms. This is how we bravely trust the elements to do their job, and in the witnessing of that strength, we’re reminded that we can handle the whole truth. We can heal together.

Transparency is a generous elixir. Maybe not at first, maybe not right away. There are times, stages of healing, when we’ll still need Band-Aids to protect and cover our raw and ravaged vulnerabilities. But protection has an expiration date. Eventually, to fully heal, we must expose the tender parts of our story to light, to air, and to the kindness of mighty companions.

This exposure not only heals the one who is wounded, but it also gives the rest of us the courage to remove our own Band-Aids. And in that courage, our compassion grows.

So, how old are your Band-Aids? Is it time to let the elements help you?

This Sunday, Lisa Natoli is joining us for a healing conversation on fearless love. I hope you will join us. Here is the link to join us LIVE at 10:30 am CT!

In the meantime…

Love, Maur

Lisa Natoli is A Course in Miracles teacher and the creator of online courses on the topics of healing, abundance, awakening, and being aware of the light of your true Self. She came to know directly that the natural state of everyone is a shared, eternal, infinite Being, light, perfect love, timeless. Any difficulties one seems to experience in life come only from living in resistance, identification as a body-self, and being in contraction from our natural eternal state. Any limitations you seem to experience come only from the concepts you hold about yourself in mind. The light of truth dissolves all false beliefs you held about yourself, and the result is peace, joy, ease, and freedom. Her website is https://www.lisanatoli.com

If you are unable to make the talk, here is a vintage conversation with Lisa Natoli!

Love, Maur

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