There’s this myth we’ve all been sold—that healing comes first, and then we build. That we can’t start the hard work of creating a meaningful life until we’ve patched every crack, closed every wound, and resolved every inner war. But if that were true, I’d still be waiting to begin.
Life taught me this: we don’t build after we’re healed; we build while we’re still broken.
“Brokenness doesn’t preclude beauty; it just means the pieces are rearranged into something new.”— Mark Craycraft, Personal Journal, 2017
Living with Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) has forced me to redefine strength. There were days when even simple tasks felt impossible, and yet life didn’t pause to let me catch up. It was in those moments of uncertainty and fragility that I discovered a profound truth: healing isn’t a destination; it’s an ongoing process that coexists with the act of building.
In our community, I’ve witnessed how addiction, poverty, and mental illness strip people of their dignity first—and dignity is not some luxury we can wait to restore until conditions are “right.” It is the foundation. Without it, no recovery program, no economic policy, no self-help book will take root.
“Dignity is a revolutionary act. When the world tries to make you small, standing tall is the first step toward freedom.”— Mark Craycraft, SCDN Article, March 2020
I’ve sat across from people in the throes of addiction who have been dismissed as “lost causes.” I’ve seen families fractured by untreated mental health crises because support systems were too weak to hold them together. And I’ve watched neighbors turn away from the suffering of others, convinced that it’s someone else’s problem to fix.
But what if we reframed the question? What if we saw dignity not as something to be earned, but as something intrinsic—something we are morally obligated to honor in each other, especially when life has broken us down?
To my neighbors who are still in the storm, I want you to know this: you are not weak for struggling. You’re strong for staying. You’re strong for trying. You’re strong for taking even one small step forward when the weight of the world tells you to quit.
And to the rest of us—the so-called “strong ones”—don’t just cheer(or jeer) from the sidelines.
“The world is noisy with expectation. If you listen too long, you’ll forget the sound of your own voice.”— Mark Craycraft, SCDN Article, August 2021
We don’t have to be perfect to make a difference. We just have to be present, willing, and compassionate. Because real healing—whether personal or communal—starts with people who are brave enough to keep building, even when they feel broken themselves.
And if you ask me, that’s where the magic happens.