The first wound is the birth wound, separation from the mother. Like Moses, we are cradled in a basket, comforted. No doubt further wounds are inflicted as we grow and we carry them into the world as thoughts, feelings, attitudes, actions.
Imagine someone bearing the wounds of the whole world, not just in his body, but in his heart. Imagine the folly in believing this. What if we did believe however, and in believing, our wounds were healed and we were open to the life that falls from the sky, rises from the earth.
Imagine a tiny spot of blood . . .