In Spanish, the word herido comes from the same root as herida (wound) and herir (to strike). It implies a blow that was meant to stop you. And yet, caminando is a gerund—an ongoing action. It is not “I walked” (past) or “I will walk” (future). It is I am walking right now, through the pain, in real time.
It is not yet a masterpiece. It is not yet whole. But it has not been thrown into the landfill. It is still on the shelf. It is still useful. And every morning, when the sun hits its golden scars, it glows just a little brighter than the unbroken cups. You are not a victim. You are not a hero. You are something rarer: a witness.
So if you are reading this with an old ache, a fresh betrayal, a tired body, or a spirit running on fumes—good. You are in the right place.
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In Spanish, the word herido comes from the same root as herida (wound) and herir (to strike). It implies a blow that was meant to stop you. And yet, caminando is a gerund—an ongoing action. It is not “I walked” (past) or “I will walk” (future). It is I am walking right now, through the pain, in real time.
It is not yet a masterpiece. It is not yet whole. But it has not been thrown into the landfill. It is still on the shelf. It is still useful. And every morning, when the sun hits its golden scars, it glows just a little brighter than the unbroken cups. You are not a victim. You are not a hero. You are something rarer: a witness. herido pero aun caminando
So if you are reading this with an old ache, a fresh betrayal, a tired body, or a spirit running on fumes—good. You are in the right place. In Spanish, the word herido comes from the