Scars. What purpose do they play in our lives?
After the initial wound, a scar is left to remind us of one significant episode in our history. Does it have a purpose? Can a wound be fully healed or what lies beneath the scar?
I do enjoy gardening but upon moving into my home in Benalla, after much futile activity, I realised that my garden had been designed for permanency and I was constrained to designing an indoor garden as an alternative.
That decision is probably a good one as I have a number of scars from injudicious over-enthusiasm in my garden.
My most significant scar is a reminder of an injury received when I was designing and building an ornate vegetable garden. A casually regarded scratch was inadequately first-aided, resulting in an infection, leading to cellulites.
Warm, red and very painful were my symptoms and daily anti-bacterial injections by a visiting nurse for a week, was the treatment. Now the wound is healed, I still occasionally experience twinges in that region of my leg. Is this a salutary reminder of my folly and a welcome entreaty to care for all open wound injuries with due diligence?
It is though, the emotional wounds that can be more difficult to treat and leave the more permanent scar.
In my thirties I was appointed to the senior position in community care. It was a dream job which offered challenges and opportunities opening up national connections. After a couple of years the organisation went into internal conflict. I struggled to respond appropriately or effectively. My leadership skills were found wanting and I was unable to find a pathway forward. I was asked to tender my resignation.
I was devastated. I had a young family and no idea where I would go or how I might be able to sustain us.
Yet this wound opened up the possibility for discovering my passion. I began teaching adults at night and discovered that I had skills to teach and educate, challenge and inspire. It was this career that sustained me for the remainder of my working life.
In retrospect, could I have been more discerning when I read in my final school report the observation by my headmaster that I had ‘some’ leadership skills? Perhaps I could have focused earlier in my life on skills and insights that would have avoided my fall. Or perhaps it is in our ‘falling’ where greater wisdom can be found.
Recently I felt a ‘nudge’ to work as a volunteer in palliative care. It feels like an exceptional privilege to sit beside those nearing the end of their life and seeking ways to improve the quality of these later stages of their life.
My son, in his wisdom identified, that I probably had to get to this age (75) to work in this area.
I have also recognised an urge to work with others to establish a separate and stand-alone hospice in Benalla? Have I learnt sufficient from my wounds and fallings to walk alongside others of a similar mind or vision? Only time will tell.
Graham Jensen
April, 2024
After the initial wound, a scar is left to remind us of one significant episode in our history. Does it have a purpose? Can a wound be fully healed or what lies beneath the scar?
I do enjoy gardening but upon moving into my home in Benalla, after much futile activity, I realised that my garden had been designed for permanency and I was constrained to designing an indoor garden as an alternative.
That decision is probably a good one as I have a number of scars from injudicious over-enthusiasm in my garden.
My most significant scar is a reminder of an injury received when I was designing and building an ornate vegetable garden. A casually regarded scratch was inadequately first-aided, resulting in an infection, leading to cellulites.
Warm, red and very painful were my symptoms and daily anti-bacterial injections by a visiting nurse for a week, was the treatment. Now the wound is healed, I still occasionally experience twinges in that region of my leg. Is this a salutary reminder of my folly and a welcome entreaty to care for all open wound injuries with due diligence?
It is though, the emotional wounds that can be more difficult to treat and leave the more permanent scar.
In my thirties I was appointed to the senior position in community care. It was a dream job which offered challenges and opportunities opening up national connections. After a couple of years the organisation went into internal conflict. I struggled to respond appropriately or effectively. My leadership skills were found wanting and I was unable to find a pathway forward. I was asked to tender my resignation.
I was devastated. I had a young family and no idea where I would go or how I might be able to sustain us.
Yet this wound opened up the possibility for discovering my passion. I began teaching adults at night and discovered that I had skills to teach and educate, challenge and inspire. It was this career that sustained me for the remainder of my working life.
In retrospect, could I have been more discerning when I read in my final school report the observation by my headmaster that I had ‘some’ leadership skills? Perhaps I could have focused earlier in my life on skills and insights that would have avoided my fall. Or perhaps it is in our ‘falling’ where greater wisdom can be found.
Recently I felt a ‘nudge’ to work as a volunteer in palliative care. It feels like an exceptional privilege to sit beside those nearing the end of their life and seeking ways to improve the quality of these later stages of their life.
My son, in his wisdom identified, that I probably had to get to this age (75) to work in this area.
I have also recognised an urge to work with others to establish a separate and stand-alone hospice in Benalla? Have I learnt sufficient from my wounds and fallings to walk alongside others of a similar mind or vision? Only time will tell.
Graham Jensen
April, 2024