There are so many ways to heal. Arrogance may have a place in

Hear the words of Anne Wilson Schaef, who with deep humility spoke: “There are so many ways to heal. Arrogance may have a place in technology, but not in healing. I need to get out of my own way if I am to heal.” These words strike not the ear alone, but the soul, for they unveil a truth that mankind often forgets: the path of healing is not conquered by pride, but by surrender; not by force of will, but by openness and humility.

She begins with the reminder that there are many ways to heal. Healing is not a single road, but a vast landscape of paths—through medicine, through silence, through love, through forgiveness, through time. The body, the mind, and the spirit each have their own rhythms, their own remedies. What works for one may not work for another, and wisdom is found not in clinging to a single answer, but in honoring the many ways the human soul may find restoration. This is the ancient teaching of balance—that the universe offers not one fountain, but many, and we must learn to drink from the one that nourishes us.

Then she warns: “Arrogance may have a place in technology, but not in healing.” In this, she separates two realms. In the building of machines, in the conquest of material challenges, boldness and even arrogance may sometimes drive invention. The engineer may declare, “I will master this,” and through sheer confidence, he may succeed. But in healing, arrogance is poison. To believe that we control the process of recovery is to blind ourselves to its mystery. The body cannot always be commanded, the heart cannot always be rushed, the spirit cannot always be forced. Healing requires humility—the acceptance that we are not fully in control, that something greater, whether nature, time, or spirit, must be allowed to work.

History offers us a lesson in this truth. Consider the case of Ignaz Semmelweis, the physician who in the 19th century discovered that washing hands with antiseptic reduced deaths in maternity wards. His discovery was simple, but his peers, filled with arrogance, rejected him. They believed their knowledge complete and their methods unquestionable. Their pride cost countless lives. Healing was delayed, not by lack of knowledge, but by refusal to humble themselves. Thus Schaef’s words echo across centuries: arrogance may win battles of machines, but in the realm of life and death, humility is the key.

Schaef also speaks personally: “I need to get out of my own way if I am to heal.” This is the confession every soul must one day make. So often, it is not the wound itself that holds us back, but our resistance to the process of mending. We cling to anger, to fear, to control, to impatience, and in doing so, we block the flow of restoration. To “get out of one’s own way” is to surrender pride, to release the illusion of mastery, and to allow the body and spirit the space they need to recover. Healing comes not when we demand it, but when we open ourselves to it.

The lesson, then, is powerful: healing is an act of humility. To heal, you must honor the many paths, lay down pride, and accept that you are part of a greater rhythm. Arrogance builds walls; humility opens doors. The one who tries to force healing will find only frustration; the one who yields will find peace. This is not weakness, but strength of the deepest kind—the courage to trust what cannot be controlled.

Practical actions follow. If you are hurt, in body or in spirit, do not rush the process or believe you can command it by force. Seek out the many ways to heal—whether through medicine, community, prayer, silence, or forgiveness. Release arrogance, the voice that says you must conquer healing as if it were a battle. Instead, practice humility: listen to your body, listen to your heart, listen to the wisdom of others. And above all, step aside from your own pride, so that healing may enter.

Thus Schaef’s words stand as a beacon: healing is not achieved by domination, but by surrender. When you remove arrogance and open yourself to the process, the storm quiets, the body restores, and the soul breathes again. This is the eternal teaching—let healing happen, and it will.