Holding is healing

"Turns out we can only cure a small amount of disease. The rest of it needs to be held."

History doesn’t typically write tidy story arcs and satisfying endings, but media tells us differently—if we present ourselves to the world with a shiny bow on our heads and a clever narrative, then we will be of service. Then we are worthy of this world. But living in an unfixed body is teaching me that a meaningful, successful life doesn't exclude our soft, messy, vulnerable uncertainty. In fact, it’s a requirement. Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen once declared, "We thought we could cure everything, but it turns out we can only cure a small amount of disease. The rest of it needs to be held." In many ways, this holding is at the heart of Unfixed. Since this work began, I’ve listened to countless patients share their vulnerabilities, disappointments, adaptations, and triumphs in a circle of deep listening where we feel heard and held by each other, and by you.

This continues to be an enlivening, healing experience. And by "healing," I don't mean we’re cured or that we exist in a constant state of bliss. We're simply learning to hold and be present to each other's pain. We're making room in our hearts for it to coexist with gladness and gratitude. We’re allowing the fierce teachings of adversity to shimmer with meaning. In this embrace, we begin to feel less alone. In this holding, we confront parts of ourselves we never knew existed. In this unconditional presence, we bring everything into the light. And if that isn't healing, I don't know what is.

This is perhaps the most tender-hearted episode from 20 individuals who bared their souls over two and a half years for the Unfixed docu-series. Here, they explore how the first year of sharing changed them, and how they’ve been shaped by each other, life events, and the relentless hands of Father Time. I still love a good, cheesy Hollywood ending, but reality reveals that while some lives are leaning toward grieving and letting go, others are turning toward holding on—embracing new chapters, new possibilities. We are all on uniquely different trajectories, but for the precious time being, we are together. And through the simple act of gathering, sharing, listening, and holding, time transforms our bodies into more than finite bags of skin and bone, but into vessels of truth that live on, even when our bodies don’t.