On Becoming A Healer

“The important thing is not to think much, but to love much, and so to do whatever best awakens you to love.”

—Teresa of Avila

I was running some errands a few weeks ago when I saw a flag at half staff. I remember thinking, “I wonder what that is for?” Not because I couldn’t think of any reason for the flag to be at half staff, but because I could think of several.

There is simply no shortage of pain and suffering out there. And when I actually let myself become aware of it, my initial impulse is usually:  “How can I set this aside so I can still have a productive day?” Which is to say, how can I deny and distract myself from this?

The problem with this approach is that the pain doesn’t actually go away. I’m just becoming desensitized to it. And, it’s guaranteed to come out eventually, usually in some disproportionate reaction directed at a loved one. I was guilty of this just yesterday. I exploded on my daughter for not loading the dishwasher within the arbitrary timeframe I gave her.
As Richard Rohr says, “the pain we don’t transform we will transfer.” Said another way, hurting people hurt people.

Yet, in the presence of so much pain and suffering, both within ourselves and in the world outside, we are being invited into our deepest calling: becoming a healing healer. And thankfully, there’s a well-worn path to becoming a healing healer along the contemplative stream of Christianity. Dallas Willard offers some insight into how this works:  “We are with him to learn from him how to be more like him.”

First, we enter into the presence of Christ who is infinitely pouring himself out in love. This is always happening. Sometimes we receive it. There are a multitude of ways to do this. Historically, they have almost always involved the practice of silence, solitude, and stillness along with the willingness to be vulnerable in the presence of trusted community.

One specific way is through a practice called centering prayer.

The simplest way to pray this way is as follows: Find a quiet place and sit in an alert posture. Begin breathing deeply and notice any anxiety you are carrying. When an intrusive thought or feeling comes, gently release it. Choose a sacred word that will bring you back into the presence if your thoughts should carry you too far off. For example: “love” or “here” or “abide.” You offer this word as prayer, come back to a meditative presence, and once again allow yourself to simply be
with God.

The beauty of this is that we are being transformed without even “knowing” it. We learn some of life’s most precious lessons this way: not by thinking, but simply from receiving. 

For example, we don’t learn what love is by reading a text book.  We don’t learn compassion and empathy from a multiple choice test. We learn them by first experiencing them. When we were scared, someone held our hand.  When our dreams were shattered, someone was there to help us pick up the pieces and patiently reimagine a new future.

Centering prayer is the practice of letting ourselves be loved by God. Which might be the most revolutionary spiritual practice that exists. This practice then becomes even more than receiving— it is also our offering. As our pain is being transformed, the potential is there for our very presence to become the doorway to healing for another.

So, do you know what happens when there is more peace inside of you? Now, there is more peace in the world!

— Cody Hardley