The Part of Healing Nobody Wants to Talk About

I’ve been reflecting on what it truly means to be a healer. One misconception about healing is the idea that the one being healed simply returns to their previous state, unchanged. But healing does not erase what was—it guides a transition. Sometimes that transition is back toward health or balance, but no person, spirit, animal, or plant emerges untouched by the process. Healing leaves marks. A healed cut may become a scar. A body that overcomes illness carries the memory of it in antibodies. Even when healing is successful, transformation has taken place.

I think many people view healing only as restoration, when often it is accompaniment through change. A healer stands beside another being as it moves from one state into another. Some transitions are welcomed, while others are feared or resisted. One of the most difficult for many to face is death, though it is as natural as birth and growth. To heal does not always mean to prevent death. Sometimes healing means easing suffering, bringing peace, or helping something move gently through its final season.

On my property, there are a couple of trees that are not well. One appears to have been struck by lightning. I cannot return that tree to what it once was, and that is okay, because all living things must eventually die. But I can still care for it. I can tend to it, honor it, and ease its transition from this life to the next. Healing is not the undoing of change; it is the sacred act of guiding it.