When You’re in Pain, Healing is More Important Than Answers
The exact moment the snake strikes, everything becomes urgent, but not in the way we usually think.
The body is not concerned with meaning or motives.
It only cares about survival.
Venom does not stop spreading when we pause and demand an explanation.
It spreads very quickly through our veins.
But instead of following our instinct to turn inward, we turn outward and begin to chase.
We run after the snake desperately and breathlessly. We shout questions like, “Why did you bite me? What did I do?”
We get no answers, and the snake slithers forward, hardly bothered by our questions, leaving us alone and wounded. Now that the wound is delayed and neglected, instead of healing, it becomes urgent to treat it.
That is precisely the way we react when faced with our emotional pain. When someone wounds us with their behavior, a sharp comment, or an abrupt rejection, instead of restoring ourselves, we ask questions about the one who wounded us.
We chase after them for answers. We try to put all the pieces together by recalling every dialogue, every incident, hoping that it will be the solution to our problem. We believe that all we need is closure, an explanation from their perspective, to heal our wounds.
But the truth is not very comforting, though it is practical.
Wounds never heal through explanation; they heal through care.
Because while we chase, the venom keeps spreading. We start doubting ourselves, and slowly the initial pain mutates into something heavier. Something that should have been approached with care becomes even more dangerous through overthinking.
The more we hesitate
The worse the injury gets
Thus, healing is a silent process. It does not require an answer; rather, it requires presence. It tells us to stop looking for the cause, embrace the pain, and nurture the wound, even if it is painful. It acknowledges that we will get hurt by other people, and we will never find the answer for why they did so.
There is a different kind of strength in turning away from the venom. Not because you are scared, but because you have wisdom. You start to understand that the endless loop of questions will only hurt you more. So, you choose to look inside for energy and focus on healing.
And slowly, as you turn your attention to yourself, something changes. The urgency to look for answers goes away. The pain softens.
The snake finally disappears, and what remains is you – still healing, and finally stepping forward.