I am not a gamer, but I think (suspect? guess?) that it is a thing in gaming that there is always (often? usually?) a healer character. You know, there’s the warrior, there is the wizard, and there’s the… I don’t know what else there is, but usually often always there seems to be a healer character.

What I mean by “healer,” here, is less of a potions master and more of a psychic healer. But I don’t mean the telekinesis type. I mean, perhaps, more the telepathy type… but also, beyond telepathy: a healer who can look into others’ minds through the healer herself and heal the others’ being, thereby making them whole. And that healing changes the 3D reality, without the healer ever seeming to directly do anything.

In movies, also, there are often one of these healer figures. In superhero team settings, there’s the main hero who does the majority of the externally-observable action fighting. And then there’s the healer figure who… usually, kinda, just stands there or sits there and CONCENTRATES.

MAXIMUM CONCENTRATION.

IMMENSE FOCUS.

LET THE WORLD MOVE ACCORDING TO MY VISION!!!

On the screen, what such a healer does looks boring because it is so outwardly static. So, the character tends to not get that much screen time.

Perhaps because of that lack of screen time, or perhaps because no amount of screen time could make (seemingly) non-external healing look interesting to the third-party observer, I’ve wondered in passing: why do they put the character in there at all? Why bother? Why spend all the $$? (In terms of casting, having the writers write the character in, wardrobe design, etc.)

In novels, too, the healer character exists, but usually they’re not the POV character. I suspect that if the healer were the POV character, the book will turn into something way too internal and less external. Also, of all the internal kinds of books, a book focused on the healer’s internal landscape would be so… complete as is.

Yup, that is what I think I understand now.

The healer’s internal landscape is complete as is. Within the healer, the end already is.

That—the beginning is the end and nothing needs to change—is not the standard arc that story consumers want. Or are used to, in this materialistic, materialized world. And often, what people are used to is assumed to be what they want.

Hence the externally-focused fighter hero.

The healer “only” exists as part of a team.

Now, because others—including the enemy—have their own internal landscapes, it’s not like the healer can instantly manifest everything from the healer’s own internal landscape to the 3D reality. But the healer is who keeps the vision alive and breathing for our team. That vision-nurturing is what allows the main hero to go out there and do the action fighting.

It might seem like the physical action fighting is more important (stop the bomb! save the planet!) than anything else, but these days, I’m thinking…

…nothing is more important than vision-nurturing.

And it may seem like the action hero could do just fine without the healer’s… what should I call it, eh, protection. I may seem that, surely, he’ll remember why he’s trying to stop the bomb and save the planet, and have some idea about the ideal aftermath.

But actually? No. The superhero narrative occasionally acknowledges this “No” by showing a dark scene in which the hero expresses the urge to destroy everything. Then the healer appears (either as an actual healer person, or a family member with the power to acknowledge the hero’s mind state, or a friend, or a dog). The healer re-calibrates the hero’s compass toward the vision. Then the hero goes out and does his external physical action fighting. The bomb is stopped. The world is saved.

Perhaps these narratives reflect the 3D reality directly, in that it’s actually difficult to do both the action fighting and the internal calibration at all times, on one’s own. Or these narratives separate the various parts within one human being in order to symbolically show what’s going on inside us: it’s a battle between the need to immediately act in the physical world versus the need to maintain internal focus and let the physical world become what is already is.

I’m leaning toward the latter. These days, I have this idea that everything comes in pairs. External and internal coexist. Physical and psychic coexist. Within all of us, there is a pair of superhero and healer.

And yet, it seems that more often than not, social constructs default us into neglecting one side in favor of the other. (This doesn’t mean we have to be both, or that we can be both at the same time. But there’s a difference between can’t/won’t and just purely being clueless.)

The part of us that’s the healer—in that it can internally calibrate us toward our vision, or at the very least, toward starting to nurture our vision—is pushed to the corner of our minds, like that movie character who DOES ALL THE IMMENSE FOCUSING but gets 1 minute of screen time.

Story representations aren’t the reality, but oh, are they powerful. One might subconsciously begin to think that the action hero is getting way more screen time than the healer, not because the action sequence is visually appealing, but because it is more valuable.

Anyway, yeah. Healing. I’m interested in that concept, these days. It could be praying, it could be meditating, it could be taking a walk in a forest. During those activities, you really could change your 3D reality for the better. The world doesn’t solely consist of the externally-observable physical objects and so-real-that-they-might-as-well-be-literally-tangible social constructs. There is an internal landscape in every person. I cannot imagine how such internal landscapes, individually and as a collection, would not influence the material world.

It’s like this. At the simplest level, when I write, what I write comes from my internal landscape. It’s not the keyboard or computer or electricity that is making this text visible in front of you, right now. Those things are all secondary. First and foremost came my mind (in the fundamental-self sense; not the social-construct-ego sense). For some random reason, I thought about healing and healers; games, movies, and novels; the external and internal. And I wrote everything down in one sweep of a stream of consciousness, and now you see this on your screen, of a device that someone created because they, one day, had a vision of everyone owning a personal computer or a palm-sized portable device, and changed the material world according to that vision.

So, healing. Focusing the internal compass toward the vision.

Also, remote healing of others. Because, once the focus is there for one person and reality shifts for that one person, all the puzzle pieces that are the interwoven realities of others also shift. It’s action-reaction.

And by triggering a continuous stream of action-reaction, the healer changes the world. The action hero inside all of us may go out there and do the fighting, but without the healer who stays inside, calibrating and recalibrating, that action part would quickly lose direction and its sense of purpose. The result, for the world as a whole, could be a bunch of action heroes all doing their own thing for no reason that they can name.

Why the heck do we do anything that we do?

It’s a question that the healer in us can answer.

The vision…! She knows the vision is bound to be.