Robert Bly in Iron John recounts that some old traditions say that no man is adult until he has become opened to the soul and spirit world, and they say that such an opening is done by a wound in the right place, at the right time, in the right company. A wound allows the spirit or soul to enter. I recall the wound to Jesus' side, the all to familiar wounds parents give, maybe even the wound of abondonment God gave his only son by turning his face. Is it therefore too much to think that the wound is divine? Again Bly says: "People too healthy, too determined to jog, too muscular, may use their health to prevent the soul from entering. They leave no door. Through the perfection of victory they achieve health, but the soul enters through the hole of defeat." A new perspective on my own numerous defeats fills me with gratitude and well-placed appreciation for the scars.
American Indians see the value in scars: "When you die, you meet the Old Hag, and she eats your scars. If you have no scars, she will eat your eyeballs, and you will be blind in the next world."
May we see with new eyes!