By Karen Ann Harden
It takes an exchange of hearts and a deep willingness to understand the broken man and the wounded child – or the wounded child who becomes the broken man (or woman). Which is first?
As the author Mark Nepo shares in a powerful, powerful book, As far as The Heart Can See, “The whole world lives in each of us. Where the Auschwitz? Where the sun? How do I breathe in a sky that has accepted it all?”
This goes for all of us. The pain we keep will eventually spill out into the world around us. Where, when, and how is up to us. It can spew out as anger. It can internalize as victim. It can paralyze us as sorrow. It can strike as fear. It can cause harm to others unknowingly. It can spill out today. It can spill out tomorrow. Or we never allow it to spill out, so we bleed internally causing harm to ourselves. If we want to heal, however, it must come out. The safer and sooner we let it out, the better.
The joy we keep can shine. Joy for this life we are all born with. Where, when, and how it shines is up to us. It can shine as compassion. It can shine as empathy. It can shine as happiness. It can shine today. It cans shine tomorrow. Or we never allow it to shine. If we want to heal, however, it must shine When
a person can transform the suffering, so as not to shed their pain onto others with an intent to injure, do harm or transfer, but share safely, healing is imminent.
We can then take forth compassion to shine onto others and bring forth joy. Empty then open. Broken heart…broken open. It is a beautiful experience. Why would we think, in a million years, that we are the only ones who have experienced pain and suffering? We are human. It is the human story.
Every person can heal well. Become an agent of your own good heart. It is just a choice. It is just one radical decision away to invoke the resilient nature we are all inherently born with as human beings. Everyone can change the story of their life.
I think a good message for folks who have never experienced personal trauma is that we must communicate the acceptance that cruelty and kindness are experienced in the very same second all around us. This creates for me, anyway, a visual of the dichotomy of the world in which we must give our notice. Cruelty comes from hurt and pain, which feels like hate – a lack of love. Kindness, empathy, and wisdom comes from love. We live in a world of spiritual dichotomies – good and evil. We can also live in spiritual harmony.
At the moment my dad, with his mis-guided heart, was sneaking in my room to abuse me at night, the young girl next door slept peacefully in the safety of her heart-full dad. We both went to school the next day. One bleeding on the inside with a hidden wound, unseen to the world around her; one shining on the inside with a different kind of energy or clarity – the energy of safety. Both were living in the same world, in the same neighborhood for that matter, with the same expectations from others. One judged as a troubled kid. One not. The difference was obvious.
Become an agent of your own good heart.
The Human Condition. Seek to Understand.
An exchange of hearts could change everything – I mean this metaphorically, of course. My dad and I did not speak for a long time due to my unwillingness to include him in my life. Then he had a heart exchange. With a diagnosis early in life of chronic heart disease, he needed a heart transplant to live. After his transplant, he had physical challenges I, frankly, knew truly little about. He was living in his own created prison. All I knew is that he had a new heart.
He contacted me to visit just years prior to his passing. I was 37 years old and married with two young boys. I agreed. This would be the first time I had seen him in person since my wedding thirteen years earlier. Prior to that I had seen him once to voice my anger and confusion over what he did with my sister and me.
At that time, he asked me for forgiveness for what he had done. Even though I granted it, I kept my distance. I also knew that forgiving him did not mean I could or would condone his behavior. But I knew he loved me. He sent me a birthday card every year with an inscription of how proud he was to have me as his daughter and signed it, “Love, Dad”. It was only later in life, years after his passing, that I would come to understand more of his childhood story through my older brother. This was the real exchange-of-hearts moment I needed to bring true understanding of his pain that he transferred to me. I finally released for the least time, with this understanding, the last drop of sorrow. I felt empathy toward him as a wounded child. I felt joy, that I, also a wounded child, was now an adult who did not spill out or project harm onto my own children. I did not have to wait until my reflective deathbed to heal and ask forgiveness. I broke the chain of historical abuse in our family. I altered our family’s cultural story. So did my sister, my adorable,
loving and kind sister, who would not hurt anyone, ever, on purpose.
I signed up for this. So, I could help heal this wound that too many women silently carry. I decided long ago that I was strong enough to carry this message. Yet, until now, I have been somewhat hiding my journey, except to those who I felt needed understanding in their own lives, especially girls who I knew had experienced this type of trauma in the home. And there have been many. I knew that my story could help others – to spark resilience, invoke strength, and inspire them to realize the message of the heart and to love themselves and each other better.
I had to go through my own learning before I was ready to share. I had to learn my own power. I had to discover and embrace my voice. I am grateful for the lesson and the blessing of my wounds. I am grateful for the understanding that people do not always understand the dynamics of their misguided actions. They are a reminder to me that empathy and understanding are necessary in a world full of human mistakes. It provides us with perspective and allows us to dig deeper. At times, the human condition saddens me. I have always had this sadness.
Understanding deep sadness is solely responsible for my understanding of joy. As I have allowed sadness, I have allowed joy. One cannot have one without the other. So, as I am sensitive to others, I feel their energy and can bring my energy to them. It allows me to connect with the plethora of people I have met from all areas of life – the rich, poor, successful, downtrodden, healthy, sick, joyful, angry, hopeless, and hopeful – as I can relate to all of it.
I am in constant conflict with myself. One side of me wakes up and wants to enjoy the world; the other side of me wants to heal the world. This makes it hard to plan the day. I am serious!
Mostly I relate to children, because as a child, I was incredibly happy. I thought the world had magic in it. But so early in life I was very, very hurt through the mis-guided actions of my father. So, when I bend down to listen to a young person in pain, to really hear them, I first seek their eyes so they can feel safe to speak. This is when I am quiet. Seek to understand. Always. Doing so validates their existence at the time when they are most vulnerable to their thoughts of insignificance, allowing them to voice safely. Most especially kids in pain or shame. They do not need judgement. We may not see their wounds on the outside. Treat them with the same simple kindness as if they had a broken leg. We all know that outside wounds lend us to say empathetic and encouraging words to help a child who had a visible, outside wound. Why is it so hard to be kind to a hurting child with invisible wounds?
Seek to understand. Simple kindness matters.
