Honey This Horse Is Dead
Loin Rubs

The Scar Clan

Lisa 5

The Seeker

I have been re-reading Clarissa Pinkola Estés Women Who Run With The Wolves.  And I must admit I had forgotten.

Forgotten my ability to run, to be my own wild self; forgotten the Courage, forgotten that I am a part of the Scar Clan.

Certainly each of us feels this way.  All those injuries suffered over the years:  the losses, the sad times, the setbacks and disappointments; each has left its mark.  Its scar:  invisible to others perhaps, but all too apparent to those of us who bear them.

Learning to live with the scars, to accept them and move on is hard.  Perhaps one of the hardest things many of us will ever do.

Because we must learn to want those scars.  Not to revel in them, or relive them day after month after year.  No.  {That is the road to self pity and despair.  A murky trail filled with bogs and bottomless pits; waiting to suck us under and hide us away forever.}

We must learn to accept, want, even embrace the Scars as a part of who we are, a record of the paths we have taken, the dead ends we have encountered, the new roads sought after and found.  Members of the Scar Clan do not bear their marks with either shame or pride; but simply as a truth of how they became She Who is Still Standing.

Stand tall this new day; and learn again to run with the wolves.

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