Healing Work as Heroic Work

Healing Work as Heroic Work

Shame is almost always the debilitating companion of painful experiences. When we suffer from shame, we often go through life feeling forever associated with the painful or traumatic experience. It becomes part of us, woven into the very fabric of our being, and it can feel like a garment or stigma that we bear but wish we did not. However, is this the fate we must resign ourselves to if we have suffered painful experiences? It is not. It does not need to become our legacy. There is indeed a much better legacy within our reach. When we experience shame, we perceive ourselves in a distorted way, so we will need a new way to perceive ourselves. We can learn to replace our debilitating shame with something far more realistic, and that is heroism: we embrace the identity of a hero.

Healing from trauma is a heroic task. Combat veterans often convert their service and experience into something quite the opposite of shame, and thus they can readily be acknowledged as heroes. So can any survivor of trauma. What might have once been a source of pain and shame becomes a source of pride and a sense of honor. We often see veterans express this by wearing hats that detail their service, or ribbons, or even medals showing they were in combat. Indeed, we call them heroes and we thank them for their service. Would we ever state that a combat veteran should feel shame when they have healed from their experiences, raised a healthy family, bore their pain without taking it out on their family or others, and become a better person? We would not.

However, for those who have suffered painful experiences outside of combat, there will be no ceremony, no medals, no formal

recognition—at least not in this life. For some of us, though, our children may one day, either while we are still alive in this world or after we are gone, discover the pain we had to bear and marvel that they never bore the brunt of it because of our love, faith, and conviction. This knowledge would also reveal that their parent succeeded in the epic feat of bearing and resolving the family pain without it reaching their children. To bear pain and not allow it to affect others negatively is heroic. Learning to thrive, despite having our proverbial wings clipped through witnessing or experiencing traumatic situations, is indeed heroic, and a service to humanity. Can there be any greater form of heroism?

May readers find themselves on the path to heroism—a heroism tempered with humility—that is the gift of the healing work.