The story of Chiron, the wounded healer, is your story and mine.
Chiron, the half-man, half-horse.
Born of rape of beautiful Oceanid Philyra by Kronos. Kronos, blinded by lust, turned himself into a stallion, fierce and powerful, and took Philyra. When Philyra gave birth to her son, she was so disgusted by how he looked that she abandoned him at birth.
Chiron, the half-man, half-horse, carrying the wounds of abandonment since the beginning of his time. Your story, and mine.
Chiron, of the quick mind, and compassionate soul, caught the eye of Lord Sun, Apollo. And so he learnt the arts of healing, prophecy, and logic. From Artemis, Apollo’s twin, Chiron learnt archery, dance and music. Knowledge, knowledge was the balm to Chiron.
Chiron, the half-man, half-horse, left behind at birth, seeking seeking through his life to fill the wounds he carries. Your story, and mine.
One day, Chiron was wounded by an arrow stained with Hydra’s blood, a poison that he could not treat. Immortal that he was, he lived with his pain for a long, long time. And so his art of healing took a new turn, for as much as he could not heal his own wounds, he became even more compassionate and empathetic to the pain of others. And so, he discovered the art of healing beyond his self.
Chiron, the half-man, half-horse, the wounded healer. Your story, and mine.
Remember Chiron’s story because it is yours and mine.
Because we carry wounds we need to heal. And when we see those wounds reflected in others, people we know and we don’t, we respond with the need to heal.
And as we heal others, we heal ourselves.
And perhaps, this is the point of Chiron’s story. That we do unto others and live, what we cannot do unto ourselves.
Perhaps, that is okay. To be the wounded healer. To heal, anyway.