I was working in the baths. My hands and feet sore from standing, soaking, and squeezing all day long. Women from all around the world lined up for what seemed like miles to be dipped into that holy, healing water. When it was a pilgrim's turn to be submerged, she was to remove her clothing and wrap herself in a white sheet. She was then to enter the bathing chamber and wait for assistance. It was my role to guide the woman into the bath, to hold her hand as she approached the small statue of the Mary, the Mother of Jesus, on the opposing wall, and then with a team of other women, to dip her back until she was fully submerged in the water. We then removed the wet cloth, wrung it out, and replaced it with a dry one. We had very clear instructions so that the experience was easy, efficient, modest, and safe. This process repeated all day long with hundreds of pilgrims who came to be healed from physical, psychological, and spiritual ailments.
Although my body was tired from the day's work, my spirit was curious and questioning. Some of these women have waited their entire lives for the opportunity to visit Lourdes, France and to be lowered into the healing wellspring that the apparition of the Virgin Mary and the young, French girl, Saint Bernadette, were believed to have created. I had the opportunity to observe in these pilgrims their unfailing faith, their unshakable belief that they could heal just by taking this momentary bath. I watched their tears and their trembling as their dreams of a lifetime realized themselves while I had the privilege to hold their hands. I remember wishing that I had faith like them, that I too could believe that I could heal from my own physical, psychological, and spiritual ailments.
At the end of the day, I was surprised when the women who I was working with asked if I too would like to be dipped into this healing wellspring. I knew from lowering the other pilgrims how cold it was. I also felt extremely vulnerable. But how could I say no? I didn't have to wait in line, I could just be dipped. It was a perk of standing, soaking, and squeezing for others all day long.
So I did as I had observed hundreds of other women do throughout that day, I removed my clothes, wrapped myself in a thin, white sheet, and entered the bathing chamber. I looked to my right and to my left where the women who I had teamed up with all day long were now watching and supporting me as I stepped into the healing water. The one closest to me held out her hand and guided me in. As soon as my foot touched that wintry water, all my faith poured out of me as tears rolled aggressively down my cheeks. I did believe I could heal. I didn't yet know how to do it, but I believed with my entire being that I could. The water made me aware of this resolve. I prayed to the Virgin that she would teach me, then let these women dip me back, lift me up, and guide me out of the chamber. We repeated the process until all volunteers had been submerged. As we came from all around the world, none of us spoke the same language, but we shared a common and very intimate experience. We embraced lovingly, said goodbye, and walked away.
There have been a variety of studies done on the healing process. What many have observed is that simply believing that one can heal aids in supporting the work that the body, brain, and being commit to in order to restore their health. The healing that needs to be done after sexual trauma is extensive. Sexual abuse not only breaks one's relationship with their community, but also with their body, their brain, and their being. The pain is so great that it causes victims to dissociate from themselves.
My experience in this bath on that beautiful day in Lourdes, France, brought me back into my community, my body, my brain, and my being for just one moment: the hands guiding and holding me, the water fresh and cold on my skin, the thought that healing was real, the faith that welled up from within. I felt myself within myself for a mere moment.
In the last ten years, I have worked diligently to stay within myself: I have reconstructed new neurological pathways in my brain, nourished my body to awaken it from the pain and the fatigue of abuse and recovery, and continued to seek an identity that I can have confidence in. That moment in the baths was my beginning. It uncovered my belief that I am worthy of healing and that belief has sustained, allowed, and escalated my ability to actually do so.
---
Photo credits:
1. Candles