24 Nov Your Core Wound

In the process of deep personal work, we all come upon one or more Core Wounds. A Core Wound is the part of us that hurts the most. It’s also the cause of our most negative patterns and self-defeating behaviors. No wonder we really want those wounds gone, or at least healed.

But in my experience, this desire to overcome the core wound is an even bigger problem than the wound itself. Why? Because a core wound never heals fully. It just doesn’t. It will always be there, whether we want it to or not, quick to re-emerge in the most vulnerable situations.

This, however, isn’t the bad news it seems to be. Instead, it’s an opportunity to practice a rare and beautiful form of self-love. Here’s how:

 Instead of relating to your Core Wound as a problem, consider it a disabled child that lives within you. Welcome it as part of your “family of selves,” and make special accommodations that will allow it the best chance to thrive.

Think about it: If your actual family had a disabled child, you wouldn’t try to get rid of it. You also wouldn’t treat it as if the disability didn’t exist. If that child couldn’t walk, you’d get it a wheelchair. You’d assist the child to become as mobile as possible, and to take part in family activity, and life itself, in the fullest way possible.

Let me make this personal. I have a Core Wound of unloveability. It goes all the way back to early childhood. When I get hurt in love, as an adult, this wound comes roaring to the surface. I suddenly see the situation, and my whole life, through its eyes.

It now seems like what’s happening is one more confirmation of the inevitable truth: There’s something horribly wrong with me.The love I long for will never be mine. I don’t get to have it. That’s for other people. My fate is to love those who will inevitably and totally reject me. My fate is to wither in a barren, solitary landscape that I don’t understand and can never escape.

That may sound dramatic, but it feels even worse. This Core Wound takes over me like a trance. When this happens, I want to get rid of it, get over it, get through it. Or, just give up.

But here’s where the miracle of self-love comes in. If I’m even just the tiniest bit aware of what’s happening, I have the opportunity to recognize that my disabled child needs emergency support. I can wrap him up in the arms of my compassionate awareness, keep him really close, and attend to him till he soothes.

This emergency may last a minue, an hour, a day, or even a week. Usually it’s not longer than that, unless I lapse into the mistaken belief that something is wrong with him. Only that prevents the trance from dissolving. Only that prevents the more adult and discerning parts of me from returning to the fore.

When they do – and here’s the best part – I’m so glad I have this Core Wound. It’s a vital, precious part of who I am. It makes my family of selves, and life itself, more meaningful. It’s truly a gift, and I’m truly grateful for it, even when it hurts like hell.

What about you? Are you aware of your Core Wounds? Would you like to wrap them up in the arms of your own compassionate awareness? I hope so, because that’s what Emotional Connection is all about.