The Wounds We Wear…

We all carry some sort of wound. Wounds shape us throughout our lives. Just look back into your life. I bet most people can remember more of the bad stuff rather than the good. I definitely recall more of the times growing up that my parents hurt me other than helped me. That could be something that’s particular to me, but it is part of my story. Not only do the wounds we receive growing up shape us they also can guide us. For a man, his worst fear is one of failure. I can see that so much in my life right now. I was hurt in this area before so I’m going to choose to stay clear of that in my life from now on. I’m not going to attempt to even budget, because I’ve failed in it before. Nope, not going to try this sport this season, because what if I’m not good enough? All those guys will hate me, because I dropped the ball. Won’t stick my neck out at work even though in private I know my idea is golden! Failure, more often than not, drives us. I’m noticing lately how much it drives me.

And, now, at this age, is where I need to turn the corner. Everything I’ve been learning, been reading, and thinking about is making me want to discover where my wound is and understand it more. An excerpt from John Eldredge’s book “Wild At Heart” Says this:

True strength does not come out of bravado. Until we are broken, our life will
be self-centered, self-reliant; our strength will be our own. So long as you
think you are really something in and of yourself, what will you need God for? I
don’t trust a man who hasn’t suffered; I don’t let a man get close to me who
hasn’t faced his wound. Think of the posers you know—are they the kind of man
you would call at 2:00 A.M., when life is collapsing around you? Not me. I don’t
want clichés; I want deep, soulful truth, and that only comes when a man has
walked the road I’ve been talking about. As Frederick Buechner says,

To do for yourself the best that you have it in you to do—to grit your teeth and clench your fists in order to survive the world at its harshest and worst—is, by that very act, to be unable to let something be done for you and in you that is more wonderful still. The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of
reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed
secures your life also against being opened up and transformed. (The Sacred
Journey)

Only when we enter our wound will we discover our true glory. As Robert Bly says, “Where a man’s wound is, that is where his genius will be.” There are two reasons for this. First, the wound was given in the place of your true
strength, as an effort to take you out. Until you go there you are still posing,
offering something more shallow and insubstantial. And therefore, second, it is
out of your brokenness that you discover what you have to offer the community.
The false self is never wholly false. Those gifts we’ve been using are often
quite true about us, but we’ve used them to hide behind. We thought that the
power of our life was in the golden bat, but the power is in us. When we begin
to offer not merely our gifts but our true selves, that is when we become
powerful. . (Wild at Heart , 137–38)

The more I look at my life though I see that it’s been more of a process. More of a desire to have somebody there showing me what I need to do. I know my wound stems from more of neglect than anything else. I had a father in the house, but he had his own issues that were never really dealt with – just ignored. That, in and of itself, made him a numb person. It had to. To ignore your innermost feelings over and over again you have to put to death something inside you. You need to silence that inner ache. With my father to even want to talk about the wound sends him into an uneasy and defensive place. Therefore, with my dad, who is still alive I’ve chosen to be silent about it. Oh, I’ll send the occasional email to him as a call to open up, but it goes without response. The thing is… the piton gets passed down. By that it leads me to think that my father is wounded in the same place I am. Eldredge goes on to write in “Wild At Heart”

As Bly says, “Not receiving any blessing from your father is an
injury… Not seeing your father when you are small, never being with him,
having a remote father, an absent father, a workaholic father, is an injury.” (Wild At Heart pg 71)

Some fathers give a wound merely by their silence; they are present, yet absent to their sons. The silence is deafening. I remember as a boy wanting my father to die, and feeling immense guilt for having such a desire. I understand now that I wanted someone to validate the wound. My father was gone, but because he was physically still around, he was not gone. So I lived with a wound no one could see or understand. In the case of silent, passive, or absent fathers, the question goes unanswered. “Do I have what it takes? Am I a man, Daddy?” Their silence is the answer: “I don’t know… I doubt it… you’ll have to find out for yourself…. Probably not.” (Wild At Heart pg 71)

And that’s what I’ve been doing for the past 30 years probably - trying to find out if I’m a man by myself. Part of me feels that to look too much into this I would thereby be playing the victim here, but this is not about that anymore. This is about taking an honest look at myself and my past hurts and choosing a better direction for my life. It is about finding out who I am now so that I can be better later. More excerpts from “Wild At Heart”

"Men are taught over and over when they are boys that wound that hurts is shameful,” notes Bly. (Wild At Heart pg 105)

But a wound that goes unacknowledged and unwept is a wound that cannot heal. A wound you’ve embraced is a wound that cannot heal. A wound you think you deserved is a wound that cannot heal. That is why Brennan Manning says, “The spiritual life begins with the acceptance of our wounded self.” Really? How can that be? The reason is simple: “Whatever is denied cannot be healed.” But that’s the problem,you see. Most men deny their wound – deny that it happened, deny that it hurt, certainly deny that it’s shaping the way they live today. (Wild At Heart pg 106)

So I need to go deeper. I have already acknowledged that I am wounded. I need to find out more about where and what it has led me to in this life. I need to open it up. As John Eldredge goes on to write:

We bury it deep and never take it out again. But take it out we must, or better enter into it. (Wild At Heart pg 126)

That is why we must grieve the wound. It was not your fault and it did matter. Oh what a milestone day that was for me when I simply allowed myself to say that the loss of my father mattered. The tears that flowed were the first I’d ever granted my wound, and they were deeply healing. All those years of sucking it up melted way in my grief. It is so important for us to grieve our wound; it is the only honest thing to do. For in grieving we admit the truth – that we were hurt by someone we loved, that we lost something very dear, and it hurt us very much. Tears are healing. They help to open and cleanse the wound. As Augustine wrote in his Confessions, “The tears… streamed down, and I let them flow as freely as they would, making of them a pillow for my heart. On them it rested.” Grief is a form of validation, it says the wound mattered. (Wild At Heart pg 129 - 130)

So that is where I’m at. I know I have been wounded. I know that it mattered and I know that I can be healed by taking a closer look at it. Therein I will find my strength. To shed the false self and become more of whom I truly am. That is what I desire and that is journey I want to be on… that is the story I want my life to write.