A Poem from a Grateful Learner

Healing Doesn’t Have to Hurt

They all want to rip my pain away from me.
Heal faster.
Do it this way.
I can fix you.


But slow and steady wins the race,
leaves me intact.
No need to disrespect
the barriers that grew with good intentions
to protect or compensate
for what was already rather short on respect.


It doesn’t have to hurt to heal.
I don’t have to hurt to heal.


Healing moves in gentle ways, the obstacle
not masked or extracted
or even seen as an obstacle,
rather as an ally,
a potential portal to more space
in the body to move without pain,
more freedom in my choices
to live with joy.


The last thing I need is one more enemy,
when I learn to hate myself for all the ways
I fall short of being whole,
when I must worry about being invaded
by the helper I have enlisted to support me.

Slow and steady wins the race.
One twist, one turn,
a little more movement, a little more freedom,
often gives way to an avalanche of living
falling right onto my plate,
more for me to enjoy
right now.
 by Jennifer Arenson, 2005