Show Me Your Scars

I have often heard it said that hurt people hurt people.  I believe that this is sometimes true, but I don’t believe that it is always true. 

I submit that hurt people inspire people.

We see this evidenced in artistic expression.  Pain is important to art.   Great art often comes from deep wounds.  It seems that the fresher the trauma, the purer the expression.  Look at Van Gogh or Hemingway or Adele - pain wrote, produced and directed their offerings.  (Yes, I just put Adele and Van Gogh in the same sentence.  I really like Adele.) 

Many of us try to dispose of our pain.  We buy shovels and coffins and set about the task of digging by moonlight.  We burrow like mole rats until our hands are raw and our backs are sore from the clandestine exercise. 

But we were designed to create not bury.  I wonder when we forgot that.  

Somewhere along the way we began digging with panicked vigor because buried pain - like covered scars – perpetuates the illusion that we are perfect.  We have never been damaged, we are not in pain, we are still lovely.  What an exhausting illusion.

The artist is different.  The artist owns no shovels. 

He uses his pain.  He recites it and revels in it.  He shamelessly exposes it.  Scars are his inspiration.  Trauma is his muse. 

And because the artist never thinks to backpedal from pain, we are the beneficiaries.  We show up en masse, pointing and marveling and admiring.  The beautiful scars of others comfort us - even as we hide our own.

I think we could all learn a lesson from the pained creator: your scars are only ugly to you.  To everyone else, they simply remind us that we have some, too. 

Your scars soothe us.  Your illness inspires us.  Your hurts heal us.

It’s long past time to bury shame instead of pain.  Today is a good day to come out of hiding and allow yourself to be loved.  What was meant for harm can be turned to good.  Embrace your wound.  Feel your pain.  Manipulate your trauma. 

We want to see every part of you.  Even your scars.