The human inclination when we’re hurt is to hurt others - to head out into the world whether consciously or subconsciously with our sword forward.
Eat or be eaten.
Kill or be killed.
Hurt or be hurt.
I guess that’s the logic.
But it doesn’t work.
It isn’t a painless option - it’s a self-inflicted sword hole.
We end up wounding ourselves further, then dragging all this painful shit around - wearing it, wincing in it.
The alt is to do all the hard work of yanking back your own chest muscles and getting a flashlight. There’s something in there that’s hurt, that’s in pain. And we need to stop, let it clear its throat and give it space to speak so we don’t walk around with a gimped pump the rest of our lives.
That’s not the place I want to love from.
At least that’s what I’m learning.