Day 6 — The Wound

By now you have probably noticed something heavy is sitting underneath the lighter work of the first five days. The voice. The vow you have been failing to keep. The brothers you do not have.

The heavy thing has a shape. It is the wound.

Every man has one. Some are obvious — divorce, addiction, abuse, public failure, a parent who died young. Some are quieter — a father who never spoke the words, a moment of cowardice you have never told anyone, a deep ongoing conviction that you are insufficient.

You will not be formed in your strengths. You will be formed in your wound — in your acceptance of it, your honesty about it, your eventual peace with what cannot be undone.

The man who pretends he has no wound will be wounded by his own pretence. The man who names his wound, even if he never fully heals from it, becomes a man who can be trusted with the wounds of others.

Today is uncomfortable. Sit with the discomfort. Do not rush past it.

Sit with this. What is the wound I carry that I have not let myself name?

Practise today. Write the wound on a single page. Don't share it. Don't post it. Just write it. Read it aloud once to yourself. Put it somewhere safe. You will know what to do with it later. If you cannot write the wound, that itself is the data — sit with the inability for the day.