Transforming Wounds: An Alchemical Rite of Passage
When Pain Becomes the Path to Wisdom
A Member of the Walking Wounded
When I sat down to write my first book, Embodying Soul: A Return to Wholeness, I was prepared to share stories I believed I had fully healed from.
But the more I delved into the stories, the more I realized I was only partially healed. There were angles I’d never considered, wisdom that I’d never mined. I had to admit that I was, in fact, a member of the walking wounded.
I still am.
Aren’t we all?
Don’t we all have stories of betrayal, pain, and hurt that remain within us, unprocessed and undigested? Traumas, losses, failures, and regrets from our past?
When we have not fully transformed our wounds, they talk to us — telling us what we can and cannot do, who we can and cannot be. They shape us, giving us boundaries that become barriers and cautions that become limitations.
The wounds go where we go , becoming a heavy, lead weight on our consciousness, stifling us and preventing us from our freedom—the birthright of every human being.
Over time, we get used to carrying this extra weight around. We don’t remember another way of being in the world — a lighter, freer, more spontaneous expression of ourselves.
It doesn’t have to be like this.
Wounds as a Rite of Passage
In ancient civilizations, wounds were understood as the first step in a larger rite of passage.
Wounds were so critical to the process, in fact, they were sometimes given intentionally. They understood the inherent power of wounds to transform people into wiser, more empathetic versions of themselves.
They understood ordeal, but they also understood transformation.
In modern times, we have become more well-versed in the language of “wounds”, as well as in the family of words that circle it : triggered, repressed, victim, narcissist, empath, trauma, toxic, etc.
But are we using wounds as ways to catapult us into a greater, deeper rite of passage? I’m not so sure.
It seems that for us, rather than our wounds becoming a seed to grow greater wisdom and understanding, they settle beneath our skin, becoming internal scars and tattoos that mark us, identify us, and soon, merge with us. At this point, we no longer know where we end and our wound begins.
When we do seek wound healing, we too often hurry the process by giving ourselves imaginary timelines and Herculean expectations.
“This shouldn’t take this long.”
“Other people would’ve moved on by now.”
“Why does this still hurt so much? What’s wrong with me?”
Or, we try to bypass the work by telling ourselves we have healed, or perhaps that we were never actually hurt at all.
“That was a long time ago.’’
“It doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“Lots of people have it worse.”
We berate, we scold, we measure, we judge ourselves. We gaslight, we bypass, we dismiss.
Until some point, without even knowing it, we become attached to our wounds. Our wounds become part of our identity.
We are not designed to carry all this extra weight in our psyche, but we often do. We believe that we can handle this extra weight. But so doing, we deny ourselves the opportunity to turn the wounds into wisdom.
There is a practice that knows more than any other how to turn lead (wounds, pain, confusion) into gold (wisdom, life lessons).
That science is alchemy.
Alchemy, an ancient practice of attempting to turn base metals into gold, can be understood as a metaphor for deep inner transformation, or a kind of “inner alchemy.”
From an alchemical perspective, our wounds are the critical material needed to begin a three-step process of growing wisdom. No wounds, no wisdom.
Here, briefly, are the three stages.
The Three Alchemical Stages
1. Burning Stage
Because our wounds are solid, like lead, it is impossible to shape them into wisdom without first melting them in the fire of transformation. Metaphorically speaking, the “fire” in this case is
attention
commitment
discernment
persistence.
We have to willingly walk into the metaphorical crucible with our wounds in hand. There they are studied, examined, and dissected from every perspective and angle.
During our time in the crucible, our wounds melt down into what alchemy calls First Matter. I think of First Matter as the raw ingredients that make up our universe. Or we could just think of a sandbox filled with sand or clay dumped onto a potter’s wheel. In First Matter lies all the potential and possibility for future growth.
After the lead (our initiatory wounds) are sacrificed to the fire of transformation, they burn down to harmless ashes from which something new can be formed.
2. Sorting Stage
Once the ashes have cooled, we begin the tedious process of sorting through the remnants. Only then can we separate what belongs to us from what doesn’t, and ultimately reshape the wound into lessons that benefit us and help us grow.
In practice, the sorting stage can look like this:
When I revisited some wounds from this deeper place, I saw how not only had I been hurt, but I hurt other people, sometimes even intentionally. Up until this point, I was in denial of that part of myself. That gave me a great opportunity to do a lot of atonement, forgiveness work, and compassion work, all of which led to a greater sense of my wholeness and our oneness as human beings.
The sorting stage is for deciding what we will carry forward into our rebirth and what we will not. It takes time, patience, and a lot of self-compassion. But it is where the gold begins to take shape.
3. Rebirth Stage
When we emerge from the crucible of transformation, we are not the same person we were when we walked in.
We might live in the same house, or drive the same car, or work at the same place, but inside, we have completely transformed. When we emerge on the other side, we are wiser, stronger, and eventually, over our lifetime, we grow into a wise elder — true gold in a society of so much lead.
From an alchemical perspective, every wound is an initiatory event, ripe with the potential to be turned into wisdom. If there is no wound, there is no place from which to begin the work.
Thus, our wounds can either be the lead weight that holds us back or the first step in a rite of passage in which we can move into our greater capacity for wisdom. We can either let our wounds fester and confine, or we can use them as a catalyst to live and eventually lead from a place of greater wholeness.
If you’re interested in going through this process with me, check out my course, Your Life, Your Terms, here.