
I've been thinking about something lately.
One of the questions I hear often is this:
Does spending so much time healing ourselves make us self-absorbed?
In all honesty, I've wondered the same thing.
After all, there are unhoused people.
Climate refugees.
Wars being fought.
Species disappearing.
Lonely neighbors.
How could paying attention to our own nervous systems possibly matter in the face of all that?
Seen in that light, tending to ourselves can feel so small.
Almost indulgent.
But over the years, I've noticed something important.
The people I see doing the deepest healing become less and less self-focused.
Healing doesn't pull our attention inward forever.
Over time, it seems to widen it.
We become more available.
More patient.
More generous.
More curious.
More able to listen without defensiveness.
More willing to repair after conflict.
More able to care for people who see the world differently than we do.
In my own life, I am certainly not openhearted all of the time.
But more and more, I notice I have a choice.
I can pause.
I can breathe.
And I can find my way back to my heart.
Real healing doesn't shrink our world.
It expands it.
Healing begins as a deeply personal journey.
We learn to notice our thoughts.
Our emotions.
Our protective patterns.
We learn to calm our nervous systems.
To inhabit our bodies.
To become more present.
At first, it can feel as though all of our attention is turned inward.
But as we continue on our path, something beautiful begins to happen.
Without effort, our circle of concern widens.
We become less preoccupied with defending ourselves and more interested in one another.
We begin to honor the protective strategies that once helped keep us safe.
And little by little, we no longer need them to lead.
We strengthen the part of ourselves that can stay present when emotions run high.
Remain connected without abandoning ourselves.
Choose our responses instead of simply reacting.
We discover we have more capacity for compassion.
To repair.
To stay present.
To hold another person's perspective.
To contribute.
More willingness to ask:
What does this moment need from me?
instead of:
How do I protect myself?
It seems to me that our own healing journeys never stay personal.
They change the way we relate.
The way we partner.
The way we lead.
The way we disagree.
The way we care for strangers.
The way we participate in our communities.
Healing is an intensely personal practice.
But it is never just a private one.
Every person who becomes a little more present...
A little less reactive...
A little more compassionate...
Changes the relationships around them.
Relationships shape families.
Families shape communities.
Communities shape cultures.
Perhaps that's how cultures change.
Not only through laws or politics...
But through ordinary people becoming more present, more compassionate, and more free.
Maybe our own healing isn't a retreat from the world.
Maybe it's one of the ways we help create the world we long for.
Healing doesn't ask us to become less concerned with the world.
It asks us to become people who can meet the world with steadier hearts.
Perhaps that is what healing makes possible.
—
Kristen Jackson Banister