Healing is often misunderstood as the complete removal of pain, hardship, or struggle.  Yet some of the deepest religious traditions and psychological insights suggest something very different: healing is not the absence of suffering, but the transformation of our relationship to it.  Human beings naturally seek comfort, certainty, and control.  Life continually reminds
us that hardship and uncertainty are part of being human.  The challenge is not to escape them, but to develop a healthier
and more balanced relationship with them.  Learning to meet unexpected hardships with curiosity and grace rather than immediate resistance, may help use to find new ways forward.  We cannot always control what happens to us, we can choose
how we respond.  As author Ben Okri writes: 
 

         The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure ...

                      and to be greater than our suffering.

 

Together, this perspective offers a way of understanding healing rooted not in perfection, but in awareness, acceptance, responsibility, and transformation.   

​

Stress and Suffering

Stress is the body’s reaction to demands requiring adjustment or adaptation. In moderate amounts, stress can be motivating and productive.  It can help people solve problems, meet responsibilities, or pursue meaningful goals.  Suffering, however,
is deeper and more enduring.  It often involves the emotional weight carried through fear, resentment, guilt, hopelessness, or dissatisfaction.  People frequently replay old conversations, relive failures, anticipate future disasters, or build identities around previous wounds.  In doing so, they unknowingly deepen their suffering through constant attachment to the past or fear of the future. 

 

This friction can leave the mind caught in turbulence rather than grounded in the present.  This closely parallels Zen
teachings about awareness and presence.  Research in modern medicine confirms what Zen and other cultural traditions have long understood: chronic stress affects the body’s ability to heal.  Individuals who learn to manage stress, remain emotionally grounded, and cultivate inner calm are better able to cope more effectively with illness, injury, and emotional hardship.  
 

Yet healing is never about demanding a life entirely devoid of pain.  Healing is better understood as developing a compassionate and nonjudgmental relationship with oneself.  It means recognizing that meaningful, connected, and joyful lives remain possible even while carrying imperfections, regrets, or physical limitations. 
 

Dealing with Chronic Pain 
Chronic pain is especially difficult because of its persistence.  Unlike a temporary physical sprain or tear, chronic pain becomes part of daily life, requiring ongoing adjustment rather than a quick resolution.  Physical pain can affect sleep, mood, energy, relationships, and a person’s sense of independence.  A physical therapist working with someone experiencing
chronic pain often understands that healing involves more than simply reducing discomfort.  Patients living with chronic back pain, arthritis, nerve damage, or serious injury may never return completely to the way they once felt physically.  Yet effective therapy frequently focuses on helping individuals regain mobility, confidence, balance, and quality of life despite ongoing limitations.  

​

Progress may come slowly through small improvements, patience, and learning how to work with the body rather than constantly fighting against it.  This reflects an important truth about healing more broadly.  Healing does not always mean eliminating pain entirely.  Sometimes it means learning how to live meaningfully while pain remains present. Individuals
who constantly measure themselves against how they “used to be” can often feel deepen frustration and discouragement. Gradually accepting present limitations, while continuing to move forward with patience and self-compassion, becomes an important part of emotional and physical recovery.
 

The Paradox of Healing
One of the  great paradoxes of healing is that a person may live with chronic pain or grief while still experiencing deep love, meaning, and fulfillment.  Someone learning a new skill may fail repeatedly while still becoming wiser, calmer, and more
resilient through the process.  Human beings often focus disproportionately on what is missing or imperfect.  Yet nearly every meaningful achievement in life involves uncertainty, setbacks, and moments of self-doubt.  Starting a business, adjusting
to retirement, recovering from grief, rebuilding after divorce, or adapting to illness all involve periods of struggle and starting over.  Healing does not require perfection.  Rather, it calls for patience, self-awareness, courage, and the willingness to continue moving forward despite setbacks.

​

I recall a man in his 80s who had been a star athlete in his youth; he was willing to do absolutely anything to get back on the field, yet he found himself searching for a "magic pill" to instantly fix his disability, momentarily forgetting the slow, often painful process required to genuinely mend.  True healing cannot be satisfied with a quick fix; it is a deliberate process of moving forward. It starts by accepting exactly where you are in the present moment and finding the willingness to take the very next step. Because of this, the first question any physical therapist (and insurance company) will ask is, “Did you do your home program?” The real inquiry behind that question is simple: are you willing to invest the personal work required to improve? Furthermore, do you have a goal?  No matter how small or insignificant a milestone might seem to someone else, setting personal targets is foundational to the healing journey. 

The immense power of these micro-goals was proven to me more than 40 years ago when I was first starting out as a speech pathologist in rural Appalachia  At the time, I was providing home health care in rural Appalachia. One of my first clients
was a thirty-five-year-old man with severe cerebral palsy who was entirely confined to his home.  Because he never had access to a full rehabilitation center, his posture was severely impaired — his head was permanently drawn over his
shoulder, and his hands were tightly contracted, except for his left pointing finger.  His speech was completely unintelligible.
In the beginning, my sole objective was simply to teach him how to communicate his basic daily needs.  Behind that mixed, garbled speech, was a sharp, intelligent young man – ready for a change.  He learned incredibly fast, progressing within months from a simple communication board to a specialized computer.  As we continued working together, he mastered the ability to communicate full, coherent sentences using pictures. 

One afternoon, I asked him what he wanted to learn next.  He slowly pointed to the picture representing the word “I.”  
And then with an outstretched hand and with bent fingers – signaling “want” he pointed to his mother’s book. He was telling me, “I want to read.”  Over the next three months, he showed a level of determination that I had rarely seen before.  
In that time, he had successfully learned to spell and read.  When I again asked him what he wanted to achieve next, he painstakingly spelled out a phrase that changed my perspective forever: “To see a sunset.” He had lived more than three decades and had never once seen a sunset.  We immediately arranged a wheelchair, an accessible van, including my ability to take him outside, where he finally witnessed his very first sunset.
 

Redefining Rehabilitation
This process of shifting perspective and reclaiming one’s well-being lies at the very heart of true clinical rehabilitation —
a concept that is frequently misunderstood by society. A few years ago, a lawsuit was filed against Medicare for denying rehabilitation services to individuals with Parkinson’s disease. This lawsuit reflects a widespread misconception about the
rue purpose of recovery.  Rehabilitation is not a guaranteed return to exactly what you were before.  Rather, it is an honest assessment of where you are now, combined with a dedicated focus on the progress that can be made to improve your current quality of life.

 

When rehabilitation is approached this way, it can spark a profound identity transformation.  For example, Rock Steady is an exercise boxing program that strongly benefits those with Parkinson’s by keeping them focused on dynamic movement while offering a tight-knit community of support. Imagine a gym filled with twenty individuals diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. They walk through the doors relying on canes, walkers, and wheelchairs.  However, once the session begins, the environment shifts. The patients put on their workout wraps and boxing gloves, transforming completely into boxers. Volunteers step in as cornermen, offering periodic drinks of water and calling out combinations.  There is nothing quite like it.  The boxers transform into fighters, and each session ends with fists raised high in the air, shouting, “Go Rock Steady!”  That empowering transformation is the true definition of rehabilitation.
 

Healing as an Ongoing Process 
Healing is not a final destination but an ongoing process of awareness, acceptance, and growth.  Genuine healing often requires honesty, reflection, and the willingness to face painful realities rather than suppress them.  Sometimes it means learning to sit quietly with uncertainty instead of constantly resisting it.  Healing also invites people to rediscover meaning
and purpose.  This journey is rarely linear; it requires patience through the ebbs and flows of emotion, and the grace to acknowledge small victories along the way.  

​

While hardships are never something we would choose, they can sometimes lead to greater insight and a more grounded perspective.  There is often a refiring process that may broaden our empathy, deepen our connections with others, and reveal strengths we might not otherwise have recognized.  When people learn to release rigid expectations, live more fully in the present moment, and respond to themselves and others with compassion and courage, suffering gradually loses its power
to define them.  In that quiet space of awareness and acceptance, healing truly begins.
​

​

​

 

 

 

 

 

​

​

​​​​​​​​