I Am Still Fully Here:
Redeeming Healing Beyond Cure
There was a time when I understood healing in the way many of us do.
Healing meant getting better.
Returning to how things were.
Removing what was painful, difficult, or unwanted.
In other words…
healing meant cure.
And while we often associate cure with physical illness,
if we look more closely, we can see that many of us are quietly living by this same definition in other areas of life.
We try to:
cure anxiety
cure grief
cure patterns we don’t like
cure the parts of ourselves shaped by difficult experiences
We long to return to a version of ourselves
that feels untouched by what has happened.
But life does not always move in that direction.
Some things do not disappear.
Some experiences remain.
Some realities change us.
For me, this understanding deepened through living with multiple sclerosis.
There are aspects of my life that have changed in ways I did not choose.
There are limits I live with each day.
And for a long time—quietly, almost invisibly—I held the belief:
That healing meant these things would need to go away
for me to feel whole again.
But something began to shift.
Not all at once.
Not as a concept.
But through living.
I began to see:
Healing is not the removal of what has shaped us,
but a transformation in how we are in relationship with it.
Nothing about my condition needed to disappear
for something within me to change.
And what changed was not my circumstances.
It was my relationship to them.
I stopped organizing my life around:
“This shouldn’t be happening”
“I need to get back to who I was”
“Something is wrong because this is still here”
And began to ask, more gently:
“How am I in relationship with my life, as it is?”
This is where healing began to take on a different meaning.
Healing is not the absence of difficulty.
It is the presence of conscious relationship.
I am still living with multiple sclerosis.
And I am also…
still fully here.
Fully capable of:
awareness
connection
meaning
contribution
And I began to see that this was not only about illness.
It was about something deeper and more universal.
At the root of much of our suffering is a shared human wound:
The illusion that we are separate.
From this comes fear.
And from fear, the patterns we use to protect ourselves.
Each of us carries this differently.
It may look like:
the belief that we are not enough
the fear of being abandoned
the need to control or withdraw
the quiet sense that something in us needs to be fixed
We often approach these experiences as problems to cure.
But what if they are not problems?
What if they are expressions of a deeper wound moving through a human life?
For a long time, I believed healing meant removing what was difficult.
Now I understand something different:
Healing restores participation.
Instead of life happening to me,
I began to experience myself as a participant in my life.
Not in control of everything.
But present.
Aware.
Able to choose how I relate.
And from this place, something subtle began to emerge.
Not dramatic.
Not forced.
But real.
Moments of:
resonance — a quiet sense of truth
coherence — an inner steadiness
harmony — a different way of being in relationship
These were not things I created.
They were what I began to experience
when I stopped organizing my life around what needed to be cured
and started relating to what was here.
This is what I now understand:
Healing is not the disappearance of what has shaped us.
It is the redemption of our relationship to it.
And when healing is no longer defined by cure,
something opens.
We no longer have to wait for our lives to change
in order to begin healing.
We no longer have to become someone else
in order to feel whole.
We begin here.
With what is present.
With what has been shaped.
With what remains.
And from here…
we participate.
This is my reality—and I am still fully here.
My health is what I create with my heart,
with my spirit aligned.
That is my inner light.
Reflection
Where in your life are you waiting for something to be “cured” before you allow yourself to remember your wholeness?
What might it mean to be in conscious relationship with what is already here?
Where do you sense even a small moment of resonance or coherence within yourself?



“Healing is not the disappearance of what has shaped us. It is the redemption of our relationship to it”.
Wow, Kitty. That is wonderfully profound. That gives me a lot of food for thought.
This really resonated with me. I’m actually working on a project right now that carries a very similar message… reconnecting with what it means to live intentionally and to be present in the curation of our own stories.
There’s something powerful about shifting from trying to “fix” what’s hard to learning how to be in relationship with it. Your words captured that so beautifully.
I’m grateful for this reflection today. I’m looking forward to reading more of your work. I especially loved your opening line, “May the light you feel outward guide you to the light within you.” I’ll definitely be keeping those words close as I move through this week.