When one way of understanding your pain isn’t enough, consider looking through healing lenses for a different perspective.
Sometimes life cracks your world wide open.
A loss. A tragedy in the news. A violent act that leaves you trembling.
In moments like these, you may find yourself asking, “Why? How do I even begin to make sense of this?”
You might swing between rage and grief, numbness and confusion, trying to grab hold of something steady.
What I’ve learned is this:
There isn’t just one right way to understand pain.
Sometimes, the most healing thing you can do is to let yourself look through many different lenses–not to deny what happened, but to find enough light to keep going.
The Spiritual Lenses
For some people, comfort begins with faith.
- Through the eyes of Jesus, you might hear: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” His words offer tenderness and the reminder that love and forgiveness are stronger than hatred.
- Through the eyes of the Buddha, you might hear: “Hatred never ends hatred. Only love can do that.” Instead of feeding rage, he invites you to place it down gently, like a burning coal.
- Through the eyes of Rumi, the poet, you might hear: “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Your heartbreak doesn’t mean you are broken – it means your heart is still deeply alive.
- And sometimes, it’s the voice of the Divine Mother – Mary, Quan Yin, Tara – that you need most: “Cry. Rage. Collapse in my arms if you must. I will hold you.”
These voices don’t erase the pain.
They simply whisper that you don’t have to carry it alone.
The Philosophical Lenses
Others find comfort in clarity rather than comfort.
- Nietzsche said: “Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster.” Rage can be tempting, but if you hold it too long, it can hollow you out.
- The Stoics remind us: “You can’t control what others do. You can only choose who you will be.”
- Existentialists like Camus say: life doesn’t always make sense, but we can still choose love, beauty, and courage in the middle of the chaos.
These perspectives don’t tell you everything will be okay.
They remind you that even when it’s not okay, you still have power over who you become.
The Emotional / Trauma Lens
Sometimes the most helpful thing is simply understanding what your body is doing.
Rage, grief, and numbness are not signs that you’re “doing it wrong.”
They are normal nervous system responses to shock and danger.
Your body might be trying to protect you with fight, flight, freeze, or collapse.
That’s not weakness – that’s biology.
Through this lens, healing begins with safety, grounding, and compassion for yourself.
Breath. Warmth. Gentle routines. Calming your body enough that your heart can even begin to heal.
The Ancestral and Cultural Lenses
In many traditions, a sudden death or act of violence isn’t seen as just an individual wound – it’s seen as a tear in the fabric of the whole community.
The response isn’t “get over it,” but gather together.
Tell stories. Light candles. Cook food. Weep.
Remember the one who was lost.
This lens reminds us:
You don’t have to carry this pain alone.
You are part of something larger and older than this moment.
The Feminine / Mothering Lens
Sometimes, you don’t need perspective at all.
You just need comfort.
This lens says: “You don’t have to rise above this yet. You just need someone to hold you while you fall apart.”
It might look like soft blankets. Soup on the stove. A friend’s voice on the phone.
Not fixing – just holding.
This kind of love doesn’t ask you to be strong.
It lets you be human.
The Activist / Purpose Lens
Some people only find their way through pain by doing something with it.
- Speaking up.
- Protecting someone else.
- Volunteering.
- Creating beauty where there was harm.
This lens says: “I can’t undo what happened, but I can grow something good from this ground.”
It turns anguish into action – not to erase the pain, but to give it meaning.
A Real Example
One woman I worked with had witnessed a sudden, violent act. She was drowning in anger.
“I know I’m supposed to be compassionate,” she said, “but all I feel is fire. If I let go of the anger, I’m afraid it will mean what happened didn’t matter.”
We started by understanding her rage as a trauma response, not a character flaw.
Once her body felt safe, she could finally let the tears come.
Then, she found peace in Jesus’ promise that those who mourn will be comforted.
She softened her fury through the Buddhist view that hatred only creates more suffering.
She reclaimed her power with the Stoic reminder that she still had choice over who she wanted to be.
And finally, she found healing by stepping into the activist lens, quietly mentoring at-risk teens so someone else might be spared that kind of pain.
None of those lenses alone would have been enough.
But together, they gave her room to breathe – and eventually, to heal.
Why Many Lenses Help
Here’s the truth:
No single way of seeing can hold all of your pain.
When you only have one explanation – one lens – it can crack under the weight of what you’re feeling.
But when you gently move between lenses, something opens.
It’s like walking around a sculpture in a museum.
From one side, you see grief.
Yet, from another, courage.
Still from another, love.
Each view shows something the others cannot.
That movement – that willingness to see differently – is how the mind and heart begin to loosen their grip on despair.
If You Are in the Dark Right Now
If you are carrying heartbreak today, here is what I want you to know:
- You are not weak for feeling anger or grief.
- You do not have to “choose just one” way to heal.
- You can hold your pain like a prism, turning it gently in the light.
- On some days, faith might help.
- On others, reason might steady you.
- On still others, you might need a soft blanket and someone who won’t ask you to be strong at all.
All of it is allowed.
All of it can be part of your healing.
Closing
Grief can make the world go dark.
Rage can make it burn.
But shifting the lens–even slightly–can let the light back in.
You don’t have to find the answer right now.
Just find a lens that helps you breathe for this moment.
And then, when you’re ready, another.
Your healing is not in one answer – it’s in the freedom to see your pain through many eyes, until one of them shows you peace.
If your heart is heavy right now, you don’t have to carry it alone.
When you’re ready, reach out. Together we can explore the many lenses that can help you heal.
To begin your healing journey call: 727-215-0283
