Healing by not healing

Maybe there was never a hole in my bucket. Maybe it was always meant to be there—letting things flow through, filtering what is meant to stay and what is meant to leave.

"There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza."
That old nursery rhyme feels oddly fitting in this era, where we’re all trying to heal our buckets. Therapy, meditation, self-help—we pour so much into healing, yet somehow, the hole only seems to widen.

We are all searching. Searching for peace, for purpose, for something we can’t quite name. We fill our buckets with wisdom, love, experiences—hoping this time, it will stay. That this time, we will feel whole. But the water always finds a way out. And maybe that’s what wears us down—not the hole itself, but the exhaustion of trying to fill it faster than it empties.

But what if the hole was never meant to be healed?

What if healing isn’t about sealing the gaps, but about trusting the flow? What if some things are meant to stay, and others are meant to pass through?

It’s strange, this contradiction we live in. We long for depth, for purpose in our lives—but in our search for meaning, we often find ourselves caught in an endless loop of healing and seeking, always trying to reach a place we’re not even sure exists.

Maybe there’s no single answer. Maybe there never was. Maybe it’s okay to be searching and to let go. Maybe we can hold space for both—healing and surrender, longing and acceptance, searching and knowing.

What if you knew everything was going to be okay? What if the worries that consume you were never yours to carry forever? Life is fleeting. Death is uncertain. And maybe, just maybe, the bucket doesn’t need healing. Maybe we just need to trust the water to do what it’s always done—move, flow, and carry us with it.