Shaping for Healing
Linas JuozėnasCondividi
Diary / On healing and becoming whole
Shaping
for Healing
On the return of strength, the quiet voice of understanding, and what it takes to help others heal.
How does it feel to become one?
It is a strange feeling.
Imagine that you suddenly begin to feel better. Your strength returns. You can feel actual power coming back into your body. Your mind becomes clearer, your awareness sharper, and something inside you begins to reconnect.
And then, suddenly, you remember that you left the iron on at home.
Not as a distant thought, but with such vividness and clarity that you immediately understand what needs to be done.
Or, in the case of healing, imagine that you suddenly become aware that someone else has left their iron on at home.
The understanding is clear enough that you could call that person and remind them.
But here is the most important part.
It is not simply that you remember who you are, or that you recognize the truth. It is that you finally have the energy to do something about it.
Or, at the very least, the strength to seek help.
And this understanding does not arrive in the form of ordinary knowledge. It is not another voice saying, “I know, I know...”
It is something much deeper.
I remember a few people I helped many years ago who were struggling with addictions, particularly cigarettes.
The interesting thing was that these people already knew what smoking was doing to them. They knew the consequences. They knew that continuing could eventually take their lives.
But knowledge alone was too weak to overcome an addiction that had become so deeply connected to the brain's own reward system.
You could explain the danger a thousand times, and they would still reach for another cigarette.
Yet after a healing session, something different could happen.
It was almost as if the body itself finally understood.
Not intellectually. Not through another explanation or warning.
The body seemed to recognize the danger, and suddenly, it simply did not want to touch a cigarette anymore.
The understanding had moved beyond thought and into action.
Of course, this clarity was not always permanent. The influence of others could sometimes overcome it. Social pressure, habits, environments, and people who pushed with force could eventually pull someone back into smoking.
But what stayed with me was the realization that the body may begin acting on an understanding as soon as it has enough strength to do so.
And perhaps this is one of the most important aspects of healing.
Not adding more knowledge to someone who already knows.
But helping them regain enough energy to act upon what they know.
And is it easy?
Not always.
Sometimes the obstacles are much larger than the person.
Even institutions that are supposed to protect health can become trapped in systems where profit matters more than care.
Countries know that their own people are suffering. They can see the consequences of certain industries and decisions. Yet the systems continue supporting what brings immediate profit, even when the long-term cost is paid in human lives.
It is almost like watching those responsible for protecting someone casually enjoy their coffee in a place that profits from that person's suffering.
As though a hospital itself had become part of the illness.
A hospital that looks real, speaks about care, and carries all the right symbols, but has somehow forgotten the purpose of its existence.
And this brings another understanding.
Sometimes healing cannot happen through one person, one institution, or one kind of force. Changes must come from different places, through different forces, working together.
Sometimes entire countries seem trapped in the same loop:
“It is good for me now. I do not care what happens later.”
But what happens later is not separate from them.
Their own existence depends on it.
And at times, watching these patterns, it feels as though entire systems are approaching a kind of existential collapse without fully understanding what they are doing.
---
Well, perhaps governments are an exception. They themselves continue operating as though nothing happened, sustained by an uninterrupted flow of money, regardless of what happens to the very people they are supposed to serve.
For example, in our country, people are expected to pay approximately €100 every month simply for existing, whether they have a job or not, with some temporary exceptions. And if someone chooses to live peacefully in a village, grow their own food, and enjoy a simple life without asking anything from anyone, the situation can become even worse.
Temporary exemptions exist that still takes your focus away, but obtaining them requires travelling to the city, which also costs money. And if person cannot afford the journey. You may not even be able to apply for the exemption you need.
And if you cannot pay, the authorities treat it as a debt you owe them. Eventually, you risk losing your home and belongings simply because you could not afford to make those payments.
So governments continue to survive, sustained by a steady flow of money, while ordinary people may lose everything simply because they wanted to live.
To wake up in the morning, breathe fresh air, pick up an apple that has fallen from a tree, and eat it.
Nothing extraordinary. No luxury, no demands, no harm to anyone.
Just the simple act of being alive. Yet even that can become something they are unable to afford.
I think I added this part to show that there is a way forward and that something can be done. It simply needs to happen sooner rather than later.
We also need to take an honest look at what is actually happening.
From what I understand, some people manage to secure positions without truly understanding what they are supposed to do or the responsibilities that come with them. But because the pay is good, some simply collect their salaries and remain silent, without questioning or trying to change anything.
---
To understand reality as honestly as possible, to recognize what harms people, and to explore how life could become better for everyone involved.
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So the understanding must zoom out.
Beyond one person.
Beyond one institution.
Beyond one country.
Into the larger world, where different paths, possibilities, and solutions begin to appear.
And sometimes, to see those paths, I realize how much more I still need to understand.
Perhaps this is why I have spent almost my entire life studying and learning.
Every answer seems to reveal another layer.
And every new layer changes the way I understand the previous one.
But does the person being healed experience the same thing?
That is a more complicated question.
Time is limited.
Usually, the most urgent things must come first. There may be deeper layers of understanding waiting to emerge, but the immediate needs of the person often determine what can be addressed.
Still, sometimes the experience goes beyond strengthening the body.
There can be visions, inner conversations, and moments of understanding that seem to arrive through silence.
As if something within the person is finally able to speak, and something else within them is finally strong enough to listen.
Knowledge that does not arrive through words.
Understanding that cannot always be explained.
And sometimes, when clarity returns, people cry.
Not necessarily because they are sad.
But because something they had forgotten, lost, or been unable to reach suddenly becomes available to them again.
Something that was always there.
Something that they perhaps knew all along, but could no longer feel.
And I find myself wondering:
Could I help someone who has been distracted for so much of their life that they have forgotten the kettle boiling on the stove at home?
Could healing restore enough clarity for them to remember?
I think the stronger the person becomes, the more they may be able to remember.
The more energy returns, the more understanding can become action.
And the more connected they become with themselves, the less they may need someone else to constantly remind them of what matters.
So how can I help more?
This question returns to me again and again.
Especially when I see people crying after an understanding has returned.
Especially when I see how much can change when someone finally has enough strength to face what was already there.
And I think this is where the true mastery of healing begins.
Not simply in understanding what is wrong.
Not even in knowing how to help.
But in understanding how to create the conditions in which healing can continue, deepen, and become part of the person's own life.
Yet I also recognize a missing piece.
Connection must come from both sides.
One person can offer help, but for healing to happen on a larger scale, there must also be understanding, willingness, and support from those receiving it.
And if the intention is to help many people, then the understanding and support must also grow beyond the individual.
Mass healing would require something more than the ability of one person.
It would require collective understanding.
Collective responsibility.
And perhaps a world that is willing to stop supporting the very things from which it needs to heal.
There is also a very practical reality.
Healing takes time.
Not a few distracted hours squeezed between daily responsibilities.
Sometimes it requires months of uninterrupted attention, stability, and work.
And during those months, I still need to eat.
It sounds almost absurd when placed beside questions of healing, consciousness, society, and the future of humanity.
Yet it is real.
Even someone trying to help others must have the conditions necessary to continue.
And perhaps this is another part of the missing connection: understanding that the person offering help also needs support.
I feel that the essential parts are already understood.
Many of the abilities required have already been mastered.
What remains is finding the right connections, the right conditions, and the time to bring everything together.
Because perhaps the greatest challenge is no longer discovering what healing means.
Perhaps it is creating a world in which that understanding can actually be used.
A world where people have not only the knowledge of what must change, but also the strength, the time, and the support to change it.
And maybe becoming one is exactly that.
Not merely remembering the truth.
But becoming strong enough to live according to it.
End of another diary page.
One that will probably be hidden soon, as things are changing and shifting faster than I can write about them.
And perhaps that, too, is part of the healing.
✧