Prisons of Pain

The deepest pain is hardest to heal, lying buried in the dark behind walls no one sees.  We work so hard to keep things contained in air-tight compartments that we don’t even realize we’re not breathing. 

Airing wounds is the only way to prevent infection, yet pain keeps truth locked up, tucked away for another day.  The burden remains as a rampart of disconnection, keeping us from ourselves and from being in relationship with anything other than misery. 

Tending to wounds unlock their power, like tilling long-packed soil making room for other things to grow. Pain, as it loosens, carries less substance and in making space for it, we are freed from our prisons.