Healing is ugly

I broke my index finger when I was fourteen. I was playing baseball, squared up to bunt, and my finger came between the pitch and the bat. It was a cloudy day, pretty cold. Mrs. Vasas was there to give me Tylenol. My parents came soon after.

Only read the following if you have a strong stomach.

They surgically removed my nail in the emergency room. They put four stitches in my nail bed to mend the laceration. Over the next three months I wore a bandage as I waited for my finger to heal. It hurt. It was hard to clean. Taking the stitches out still haunts me. Watching my nail grow back was oddly satisfying.

My finger still looks a little off. If I press hard enough on my fingertip I can see where the stitches were. I remember the pain, but healing eventually came.

This is what makes the healing process troubling: it wouldn’t have healed if it didn’t hurt. When you feel pain your endocrine system makes a slew of healing hormones that instantly begin to clot and repair damaged tissue. Pain is a signal that something is hurting and needs attention. Without that pain, healing happens much more slowly. Here’s a study.

As I look and listen and hear the cries of the world, I’m reminded of my finger and every injury I’ve had. Healing is slow and it hurts. Healing is ugly. But healing, in the end, works, and it only works because it hurt, because it was slow.

Every day I am brought to tears by the cries of the black community in America. I cry as I learn more about the horrible treatment of indigenous people. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret not paying attention sooner. Not using my privilege for good sooner.

But now is a good time to start. Now is the only time to start. Nunc coepi means “now I begin” and that is exactly what I’ll do.

Healing is an ugly process, but the more we all hurt, the faster we can all heal. We can’t continue by just letting one group suffer. Until we all feel their pain, until we are all uncomfortable by racism, no change will happen.

I’m ready to embrace the breakdown of the world I once new so we can heal and create a better home. This time, the only people not welcome are the ones who want to keep us apart.

Musical Medicine

Last night Camille and I went to experience Nahko and Medicine for the People at Union Transfer. This wasn’t a concert but an an encounter with healing medicine, medicine not just capable of healing the world but ourselves. We’ve been Nahko fans since about May, right when two people very close to me transitioned. Nahko’s musical medicine helped me gain perspective in a challenging time, turning my focus towards love instead of loss.

We were in the front as Nahko & MFTP played their battle cries of peace, unity, and unwavering love for mankind. Together we proclaimed “Aloha” and “Mahalo” so all of Philly could hear us. We were building bridges between races and cultures, between belief systems and waking consciousness. We were encouraged to advocate for our common home and support our brothers and sisters trying to protect it, like the people of Hawaii trying to save the sacred Mauna Kea. Together, we can make a change. Together, we will make a change.

There was one potent moment last night that changed me for good. After a long build up, Nahko was singing, “What a Beautiful Life,” over and over. I raised my hands, closed my eyes, and began to cry. My heart was beating out of my chest and I was filled with God. I felt the full embrace of my body and my soul. I became One with all that is, and I’ve never been happier. I’ve felt this before, but it’s always a fleeting moment. These few experiences are the best moments of my life.

My physiology professor and whoever else says “the heart is just a pump” have clearly never had an experience like this. The heart is what connects our conscious soul and our earthly experience. It’s home to the soul, the dwelling place of our very being. It’s where the Kingdom of God is—right here and within us. Nahko and Medicine for the People helped me remember that again.

To all who made last night so magical and healing, Mahalo. We are in this together. You will be in my heart forever.