the medicine carried in our stories

Mark Nepo (in his book, The Exquisite Risk) claims there is medicine carried in our stories.  He says:

“The moment we dare to speak humbly and directly from our heart . . . from the truth of compassion . . . we speak the same language always waiting underneath our differences.  The mystery here is that when we speak from the divine center of things, from our own understanding of God, things become one again.  So, we carry this in us . . . . the possibility of Oneness.

In the moment of stress, in a moment of building a dream we don’t believe in, in a moment of being more concerned with the task than the person doing it, we slip out of compassion.  In that moment, we lose the ability to understand each other.  In that repeatable moment we lose access to our common, original language.

Yet, in a moment of vulnerability, in a moment of suffering or acceptance, in a moment of letting the truth of things rise within us, in a moment of risking to be who we are in front of others, we can feel the life of others wash over us as we slip back into the sea of compassion.  And in that repeatable moment, there is only one tongue.”

This is the power possible in support group gatherings as people bare their wounded hearts in trust within this circle of kindness.  I've watched this happen time and time again. The support group gathering is a place and time to begin to tell the story you are living and try to begin to put the pieces into some kind of meaning.  It takes time, patience, effort and courage . . . and you can feel the comfort in those who patiently listen.  It washes over each heart.  Feeling heard is healing medicine for the soul.