And so what emerges from the initial aversion, resistance, and pain of the wound is something generative creative, playful, and sometimes even luminous or numinous. Marianne Williamson writes in her book A Return to Love that "our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us."
If we patiently and persistently relate to the wound in a compassionate and mindful way, what naturally emerges is our light. I often wonder why we have been told to hide our wounds and to pretend that they don't exist. And since I am in the self-help world, we're also taught that you can overcome them, master them, or fix them.
The sacred wound doesn't need to be fixed. It is perfect the way it is. What's required is a big dose of patience, some kindness, and awareness. What emerges over years--not days--is our light. And it is the transformation of darkness into light that Williamson is referring to. That's why society keeps teaching us to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, to stop focusing on the negative. However, when we give room to be with our wound, what naturally arises is our powerful, innate genius.