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Category: Transforming Pain

Hurt People, Hurt People—And What We Can Do To Heal Together

“Hurt people, hurt people.”

Charles Eads, via MoveMe Quotes

Hate doesn’t just manifest itself from nothing. I believe firmly that we are all born pure manifestations of love and it is only from the suffering of life that we learn to hate. When traced honestly and mindfully, hate can usually be found rooted inside a person from potent and painful experiences. As a coping mechanism, hate acts as a way to retaliate back and hurt others the way that person was hurt.

The sad part, and a key part in this understanding is that usually, the conviction of a person’s hate is correlated to the pain they harbor. It’s where the expression, “Hurt people, hurt people” comes from. And it’s usually the case that really hurt people, really hurt people and less hurt people, hurt people less. Once we understand this, we can more mindfully begin our journey towards healing both within ourselves and with others.

And here’s the thing about healing and helping others healI don’t think any of us are “healed.” I think healing is a forever ongoing process. One that requires constant energy, attention, and time. Furthermore, I don’t think any of us are free from hurt. The suffering of life — in some way, shape, or form — is enough to include us all many times over. And with life being as chaotic, unpredictable, and turbulent as it is — the hurt and the healing will forever be changing all the same.

Once we understand the dynamics of hurting and healing, we can appreciate the scope of the situation we’re in. All of us are hurting — some more than others. All of us desire healing — nobody wants to remain hurt. The hurt comes as a given with life — life is suffering. Healing does not come as a given — it must be sought out and applied to one’s self. And as an act of compassion for the other, as we heal from our hurt, we can share what we’ve learned with others — so that they can hurt (and hate) less, too.

Share Your Art. Even When (Especially When) It’s Not Perfect

“My life has been my music, it’s always come first, but the music ain’t worth nothing if you can’t lay it on the public.”

Louis Armstrong, via MoveMe Quotes

Artists look at their paintings and think: Ugh, those strokes.

Writers read their paragraphs and think: Ugh, those words.

Actors watch their performances and think: Ugh, those scenes.

The people those gifts weren’t intended for think: Ugh, why this?

The people those gifts were intended for think: Wow, thank you for this.

The people who never receive your gifts think: …

Well… nothing at all—what they see instead is an unexpressed, mysterious, doubt-filled person.

And what a poor replacement for what could have been a gift to the world.

Share your art.

Not when you look at your art and think: Wow, that’s perfect.

But, when you look at your art and think: Ugh, it’s not perfect, but it’s damn good.

Because sharing your art is how you share your self.

And who you are is an imperfect, ever-changing, highly-emotional being—

—Who is putting a fragment of themself out into the world as a gift.

A gift that says I’m human—maybe you’re human, too, and we can connect over this fragment?

Not everyone will. But, the ones who do?

The ones who do will change your thought processes; your direction; your art; your life.

And maybe your gifts will do the same for them.

The Sacred Responsibility Of Storytelling

“Know someone as much as you can.  Hold onto the moments that define them.  Then when their body leaves, they won’t.”

Iain Thomas, via MoveMe Quotes

For a story to be told, there needs to be a storyteller. Even the most fantastical, awe-inspiring stories get forgotten when nobody remembers to tell it. Each of us holds a sacred responsibility to the other: to be the storytellers of each other’s lives. Or, said differently, we are the bearers of each other’s legacies.

We choose every day what stories to read, what stories to listen to, what stories to seek out, and what stories to share. The books that we read and don’t read; the conversations that we have and don’t have; and the sides of our own story that we share and don’t share—all make up the interconnected webbing of stories that thread their way through our minds and the minds of those around us.

When somebody passes away—when their body leaves—what’s left behind isn’t their story, it’s what’s remembered of their story. If nothing was ever shared of a person’s story, how can there be a story to tell? The knowledge of the story needs to be passed from one person to the other in order for that to happen.

Many people think their story is comprised of accomplishments, accolades, milestones, and status markers. But those elements rarely make for a good story. What makes for a good story is emotion—what that person was like while they were accomplishing; how they treated those around them in spite of the accolades; how they prioritized their time while they hit milestones; and what made that person authentically them regardless of any status markers.

We care about emotion because emotion is what makes us human. Emotion is what says, “Oh, you’ve felt that way too?” “I understand what you’re going through because I’ve been there.” “This is what being human has been like for me—maybe it can help you figure this human thing out, too.”

Stories are like emotional roadmaps given from one person to another. Some are incredibly helpful. Some are irrelevant. Some are life changing. And some are forgotten. But, one thing is for sure—we’ll never know a story’s impact if we never hear it. And we’ll never know our story’s impact if we never share it.

Know someone as much as you can—read their books; listen to their stories; seek out conversations with them; ask interesting questions; and soak in all that they’re trying to share. Hold onto the moments that define them. And maybe they’ll do the same for you. This way, when their body leaves—they won’t. And when your body leaves—you won’t either.


This post became the introduction for: 28 Timeless Morrie Schwartz Quotes from Tuesdays With Morrie