I think the largest lie that we can be sold is that our woundedness weakens our ability to love. A few caveats: our pasts are not, well—past. They live in our hearts, in our minds, in our present fears, in our patterns of being, and in our habits of relationship. They shape our responses to danger, love, or change, they mediate and form our decisions, they shirk or promote risk. Our pasts—even from our first moments of amniotic darkness—are fraught with contingency, mistakes, and hurt. We are shaped by forces outside of our control, and often to our detriment. Original sin that means are all born into a milieu of hurt, and I can only imagine that any therapist who traffics in helping patients through family of origin issues traumas large and encounters original sin up close and personally each day. Certainly the woundedness of our hearts, shaped by sin before we were aware, weakens our ability to love.
thirty-second street
thirty-second street
thirty-second street
I think the largest lie that we can be sold is that our woundedness weakens our ability to love. A few caveats: our pasts are not, well—past. They live in our hearts, in our minds, in our present fears, in our patterns of being, and in our habits of relationship. They shape our responses to danger, love, or change, they mediate and form our decisions, they shirk or promote risk. Our pasts—even from our first moments of amniotic darkness—are fraught with contingency, mistakes, and hurt. We are shaped by forces outside of our control, and often to our detriment. Original sin that means are all born into a milieu of hurt, and I can only imagine that any therapist who traffics in helping patients through family of origin issues traumas large and encounters original sin up close and personally each day. Certainly the woundedness of our hearts, shaped by sin before we were aware, weakens our ability to love.