"I'm in so much pain, so much agony... I don't even have the strength to smile anymore."

I've heard this far too many times in my healing sessions.

Every time I hear it, I can feel the weight behind those words. That kind of pain isn't fake, and it's not overthinking — it's something very real, pressing right against your chest, so heavy that even breathing feels like effort.

So today, I want to talk about this question: Does pain really disappear with time?

Pain Doesn't Disappear — It Just Gets Smaller

We often hear people say "time heals all wounds." As someone who does healing work regularly, I don't really agree with that. Honestly, it sounds like a cliché.

Pain doesn't disappear with time. It won't just vanish one day as if it never happened. But the space it takes up in your life — that can become smaller than it used to be.

I've lived through this myself.

A few years ago, my grandmother passed away. She raised me since I was little. During that time, I cried until I couldn't breathe, feeling like my entire world was collapsing. There was only one thought in my mind — I would never find anyone in this world who loved me more than she did.

That kind of pain — you can't get past it with some useless "just think positive." And you can't wait it out with the old comfort of "time will make it better."

The pain didn't disappear. I just grew — grew big enough to hold the pain, and still have room for everything else.

So when a client tells me "I'm in so much pain, I can't move forward," I never tell them "just hang in there." Because that's not true. But I do tell them this: you don't have to wait for the pain to disappear. You can carry it with you, keep walking, and slowly let your life grow into something more.

Healing Is a Starting Point, Not the Destination

In my work with Reiki and energy healing, I've noticed something that happens all the time —

Right after a session, clients usually feel incredible. Full of energy, full of confidence, like everything suddenly makes sense. That lightness is real. The energy was genuinely cleared and realigned in that moment.

But what happens when they go back to their daily life?

Back to the environment that caused the pain. Back to the unresolved problems. Back to the people who make them feel uneasy — and that unstable feeling creeps right back in.

At first, I wondered if the healing wasn't enough. But then I understood — the healing was enough. It's just that healing only opens a door for you. Walking through it — that's something you have to do yourself, one step at a time.

On the spiritual path, there are no shortcuts. You have to walk it step by step, verifying what you've learned and what you think you understand. Otherwise, it's just ego inflation.

Real Change Comes Down to Whether You're Willing to Keep Facing It

This is what I really want to say.

The reason pain stays isn't because you're weak — it's because you haven't yet found a way to coexist with it. Healing can help you set down the burden for a moment and see things more clearly. But once you're back in your life, you still need to practice — again and again, facing those feelings that make you uncomfortable.

Sounds cruel, doesn't it? But actually, it's good news too: the power to change has always been in your own hands.

It's not about someone else rescuing you. It's not about waiting for time to erase everything. It's about you, in every moment of facing it, slowly growing your own strength.

Every now and then, I think back to the day my grandmother passed. The emotions, the pain — they're still so real. It doesn't feel like they've faded at all. But I understand now — I truly loved her, just as she loved me.

Looking back, I've come to a different kind of understanding. On the day my grandmother left, it felt as though her soul was telling me:

"Congratulations, my dear grandson. You've grown up. You don't need me anymore."

P.S. I've been dreaming about my grandmother a lot lately, so I had to write this.

For Lee Huang Jin-Yu — the grandmother who spoiled me with all her love.