Quotes About Healing

We all need to do some amount of emotional and spiritual housekeeping. When we commit to that process, we evolve. We grow. And we get more in touch with our Authentic Souls.

Moving on is something that happens to you, not something you do. That's what people don't realize. Moving on is not proactive. It's organic. Be kind to yourself.

And when you hate someone, it leaves deeper scars on your psyche than loving someone ever can.

You find that with children who've shared a childhood trauma: it's like a fine wire that runs between you; you can feel the tug on it from time to time.

You. You and your fucking "tie me up" bullshit. You and your other guys. Guys who've done that to you. Every time I shut my eyes, there they are. Lined up. And I can't, I cannot get them out of my head, Rachel. You put them there. Bunch of fucking creeps.

Please don't be sorry. Please just cry for as long as you need to cry.

Moving on is something that happens to you, not something you do. That's what people don't realize. Moving on is not proactive. It's organic. Be kind to yourself.

One of the blessings human beings take for granted is the ability to remember pain without re-feeling it. The pain of the physical wounds is long gone …and the other kind of hurt, the damage done to our spirits, has been healed. We are careful with those scarred places in each other.

Some people there's no getting over.

She had discovered that the best remedy for heartache was trying to make herself useful to others.

I've lost someone, too. And there were no rules for how to deal with the death of someone you loved. You had to accept that the loss would always stay with you, like a reminder note pinned to the inside of your jacket. But there were still opportunities for happiness. Even joy.

You can't love someone new without getting over the last one.

Love will break your heart,[...] but love can also mend it. Not many things in life are both the cause and the cure.

I had learned that there were substitutes for a mother who couldn't be a mother. You could find love with other people. You could find it in places you weren't even looking. But the original wound would never heal. I would carry it with me forever, and so would Tara. That was the trick . . . accepting it, going on with your life, knowing it was part of you.

Neither of us seemed able to be close to anyone. Not even each other. Closeness meant the one you loved the most would cause you the most damage. How did you unlearn that? It was woven deep between every fiber and vessel. You couldn't cut it out.

The freedom of saying anything to him, telling all, relieved a burden I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying. In my relentless push to keep moving forward, there had been so many emotions I hadn't let myself inhabit fully, so many things I hadn't talked about. Now I couldn't quite catch up to myself.

My vantage point on the world is the operating room where I see my patients.

On a regular day, something is hurting. It varies more or less. Seems like I heal pretty quickly and get over stuff, or I'm just used to dealing with stuff.

A hospital is a good place to set various dilemmas.

The Archer novels are about various kinds of brokenness.

The mental health conversation is very important to me. I have friends that struggle with various mental illnesses. I've struggled with depression and anxiety. I'm very interested in how we deal with that.

I think the impulse took shape in early childhood when I was very ill with lymphoma for a number of years. I spent a lot of time in hospitals and sick-rooms, being read to by various relatives, and I learned to associate books with love and attention.

I have healed myself through sharing my birth story as well as others' stories in my film 'No Woman, No Cry,' and in various writings and talks about maternal health.

That went on for a long time: telling various tales from my experience being anorexic and bulimic, and having people say, 'You've got to write this; you are a writer,' and me not knowing how to approach the material.