The Wound as Initiation: What Rumi Teaches Us About Healing
“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” – Rumi
Few lines capture the paradox of suffering as clearly as this one. At first glance, it almost sounds impossible: how could pain bring light? When we are in the thick of it, wounds feel like darkness, not healing. They feel like loss, shame, or even annihilation.
And yet, across psychology, spirituality, and myth, we find an enduring truth: wounds, when faced, can become thresholds. They break us open, not to punish us, but to initiate us into a deeper relationship with ourselves, with our soul, and with life itself.
The Wound as Threshold
A wound is a disruption, a break in the story we thought we were living. Pain shakes us out of ordinary life and forces us to face what we might otherwise avoid.
Carl Jung described this through the archetype of the “wounded healer.” He noticed that those who’ve been through deep suffering often become the very people who hold space for others. But he also knew that suffering on its own doesn’t transform us. The difference is whether we choose to turn toward the wound, to listen to what it asks of us.
When we do, the wound shifts from being only a site of pain to becoming a threshold, an opening into something new.
Inanna’s Descent: A Myth of Initiation
The Sumerian goddess Inanna tells one of the oldest stories of initiation through wounding. In her descent into the underworld, she passes through seven gates. At each one, she surrenders something she once believed defined her. Her crown, her jewels, her robes. By the time she reaches the final gate, she is naked, vulnerable, and stripped of everything familiar. There she is struck down and hangs lifeless for three days before rising again.
Inanna’s story mirrors what wounds feel like in our lives. None of us choose to be broken open. Loss, betrayal, illness, or shame pulls us into descent. We are stripped of our old identity, left bare and uncertain.
And yet, descent is not the end. Like Inanna, we return carrying a new kind of wisdom. One that holds both shadow and light, death and renewal.
The Shadow in the Wound
Jung’s idea of the shadow helps us understand why wounds feel so disruptive. The shadow is everything we hide. Our anger, grief, and shame, but also our brilliance, creativity, and power.
Wounds drag us into these hidden places. They surface the parts of ourselves we’ve tried to keep out of sight. At first, this confrontation feels unbearable. But when we dare to stay with it, the wound becomes more than just pain. It becomes a doorway into reclaiming what we’ve denied.
This is the paradox of the wound: the same place that terrifies us is also where our light is waiting.
Wounds Witchy Souls Know Too Well
For witchy souls and spiritual seekers, the wounds often strike in familiar patterns:
Being told you are “too sensitive” until invisibility feels safer than authenticity.
Having your spirituality dismissed, leading you to hide your intuition and magick.
Carrying ancestral echoes of exile or persecution, leaving a residue of fear around being fully seen.
Feeling deep disconnection in a culture that values productivity and logic over soul and mystery.
These aren’t small wounds. They cut at the root of identity. And yet, they also carry an initiatory quality. They push us to ask: Will I continue to hide? Or will I let this wound invite me into the fullness of who I am?
Meeting the Wound as Initiation
Allowing a wound to initiate you doesn’t mean glorifying pain or rushing through it. It means shifting the relationship you have with it, from enemy to teacher.
Some gentle ways to begin:
Journaling as witness: Give the wound a voice without rushing to fix it.
Ritual: Light a candle and name the wound as sacred ground.
Body listening: Place your hand on the part of your body that carries the wound. Breathe into it and ask, What do you need?
Tarot reflection: Pull a card with the question, What wisdom is hidden here?
Therapeutic support: In transpersonal therapy, wounds are held with compassion, and spirituality is honoured as part of healing. Pain is met not just as a symptom but as a threshold to soul.
The aim is not to erase the wound, but to create a space for light to enter through it.
The Light That Enters
Rumi’s words are not about romanticising pain. They are about recognising a paradox: wounds break us open, but they also open us to something deeper.
For witchy souls, wounds around sensitivity and spirituality can feel like exile. But they are also sacred invitations. They strip away illusion, confront us with shadow, and call us into a new wholeness.
The wound is initiation. And the light that enters is your soul, reminding you of who you truly are.
ABOUT ME
I'm a therapeutic counsellor with nearly 10 years of experience supporting people living with trauma in their emotional, psychological, and spiritual healing. I offer 100% virtual therapy through my private practice. Many of my clients appreciate the flexibility online sessions can offer.
I’m a registered member of the International Institute for Complementary Therapists, with an Associate Degree in Counselling & Psychotherapy, along with training in a number of trauma-informed therapeutic approaches. But more than that, I bring lived experience to my work, including my own journey of recovery from Complex Trauma.
My private practice is currently full but you are welcome to join my waitlist if you are interested in hearing from me when a spot becomes available.
