Wound or Scar?
Yesterday, in our mindful community, we touched on human complexity. We spoke of feeling the world’s pain and injustice while simultaneously witnessing spring’s constant balance and magic. The frustration, fear and sadness of an illness alongside the love we feel for life. The more we talked, the clearer it became: not only is it possible to feel opposites, it’s necessary.
We need to make space for both. Walk hand in hand with them. Without denying the one that lowers our mood, without punishing ourselves for feeling good when something good happens.
Within that duality we return to balance. To the here and now with all its parts, imperfections, inconsistencies. And I wonder: are they really imperfections? Or is it precisely from that total presence with what IS right now that we’re most aligned with perfection?
That’s where emotions become fluid, temporary. They dance with what our body and soul need.
But sometimes we get stuck in one emotion. In those moments, we leave the here and now. We hand our power over to the mind, which diagnoses and personalizes what’s happening to us.
In our group we discussed techniques for those moments. Biology. The intelligence of our body. We remembered that our nervous system is flexible: if it perceives a threat, it activates protection automatically. Only afterward can we reevaluate and “rewrite” the danger level. We give the mind a task that puts it on our side, not against us.
And then the idea emerged:
Observe what activated you. Ask yourself: is it a wound or a scar?
The question already creates pause. The mind has new work. The body begins to scan.
According to medicine:
A wound is an injury requiring active care to prevent infection and heal.
A scar is new tissue that already healed. It feels different, but it’s closed. It’s a memory.
A scar reminds us of pain that was, that hurt deeply, but that we closed. With treatment and care, the skin with its intelligence rejoined. It left us a reminder for future occasions. To remember: not that way.
What is this scar reminding you of? Is it the situation, your reaction, fear or real danger warning? Do you remember the resources you learned thanks to this scar? Connect with that gratitude for a few seconds. Observe your body afterward.
A wound is still open. It needs care. And above all, compassion. What does this wound need today? Where have I stopped caring for myself? Did I cross a boundary — mine or someone else’s? What is it trying to tell me?
I listen from the heart and breath. From the body.
If I can see the wound, I’m still alive. I have the opportunity to heal it. I can decide to care for it in the best way possible.
What do you think? Next time something activates you, what do you discover if you ask: wound or scar? That’s where the real conversation begins.
This piece emerges from our mindfulness sessions. If it resonates, share it with someone who’s also learning to listen to their body.
Medical metaphor based on information from American Cancer Society: cancer.org