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The Dilemma


As a Therapist and a Pastor-

I have had the unique opportunity to work with many individuals whom, on the outside, have no deformations, no scars, and present a picture of success and health. They schedule an appointment, dress in their best clothing, both internal and external, and sit on my chair in a state of phantasm, with a miraged countenance-the epitomal reflection of fraud. Hiding behind their counter-factual lives. During the rapport process, they externally engage in an internal debate, trying to audibly convince themselves that everything is okay. They forget that I too am in the room, observing, listening. In this setting, the subconscious seems to take control, which immediately reduces one’s self or conscious control. This interpersonal ruction lasts for almost an hour, as I watch them, talk to themselves as if they had just met themselves for the first time. Sitting quietly in the dimly lit room, I allow them to combat the duality of voices that triggers the confused bifold nature that has shaped the person that talks back to them. Two voices, one person. Two perceptions, one mind. Invisible scars, visibly seen because all the make-up was washed away by the waterfall of their tears. One person can have two natures. One person can drift between reality and make-believe.


This is why Christ states that we cannot follow Him and be in the world. The mind wasn’t meant to process two perceptions. We chastize our children about building monuments of existence that we say is far from reality. Guess what ... adults do it too. For some it’s called pretending, but for many, it’s called coping.

And to both the pretending and the coping we have become numb.

This is the dilemma. We must wakeup. We wake-up by feeling…and by embracing in authenticity reality, even if it is painful.


These repeated episodes prompted me to examine my own scars. As I explored my own personal scars, I realized that, though, to the naked eye, the scars appeared to be healed, underneath the superficial layer of the epidermis, healing was still in progress. There were times when the trauma enacted pain that was too strong to bear. The present intensity of an aged long experience from life’s past, still possessed the ability to resurface in my mind; and at times, with such intensity, that it possessed the power to completely arrest every emotion, every thought, every action, every conscious and subconscious response. As I would sit for moments that are so paralyzing, they felt like days, I realized that I must give myself permission to, in this moment, process the pain so that I can heal. Questions plagued my mind. Why does society make us feel that we must hide what hurts? Why is it normal to hide? Why is retreat and escape more appealing than problem solving? Have we become creatures of darkness, exposing to the light only what we think the light should see? Why is it an anathema for me to say that I am suffering, distressed, wounded, marred, and aggrieved?

Why can I not scream, “Help!” and expect someone to come to my rescue? Why is it so debilitating to free ourselves of the prison of suppressed emotional responses, and pretend that we are holistically healthy and whole?


Rumi asks the question, “Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?” Why have I spent so much time trying to heal from the outside-in, instead of the inside-out? Why are we, as a society, so hypervigilantly focused on the scars that are visible to others, instead of the healing the invisible scar that is within? Why is prioritizing internal healing taboo, but external healing is promoted? Is there anything wrong with allowing tears so they can cleanse the soul?


I began to cry. Holding my tears reminded me that tears like storms, precipitate water that comes to wash away the facade. I allowed myself to feel ... myself.


Sha’Leda Mirra, Author



The Heart Centered Journey, CCC Inc.

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