How a Donkey Opened my Heart: A Journey to Self-Healing and Transformation

Rescue Mila, or Rescue Me?

In this deeply personal diary entry, I share how rescuing a donkey named Milagro — meaning 'Miracle' — reawakened an old wound.

This post offers a glimpse into the emotional highs and lows that carried me through pain, reflection, and self-healing. It’s a journey to the deepest parts of my soul, driven by a relentless search for love and understanding.

Was it about rescuing Mila, or rescuing myself? Join me on this path of self-discovery and healing, sparked by the miraculous survival of the donkey Milagro.

Reading time: about 15 Min

I was exhausted from an endless 48-hour journey from Germany when I finally arrived home to my beloved Casa Lavanda in Mexico. The first coffee of the morning tasted particularly good as I sat outside, listening to the river behind the garden. The small river, which had filled beautifully during the rainy season, produced a delightful roar that brought me easefully into the present moment.

But the peace of that moment was interrupted by Tillmann's, my partners return from the morning walk with the dogs. He came back, his face marked by a heavy sadness. He looked at me and said, "The neighbor’s donkey has been attacked; I think it needs help." As I was standing up I replied with a tired "Okay, yes," hoping it wasn’t too serious. But his voice became more urgent: "No, it’s very bad. Let’s go now”.

The Devastating Scene: First Encounter with Mila the Donkey

- First Encounter with My Hidden Pain?

When I first saw Mila, I could hardly believe my eyes. She was severely injured from streetdogs—deep, open wounds covering her body, her ears torn off,on her snout was a hole large enough for a fist to fit in and fluid streaming from her right eye. Her body was all over ravaged by bite wounds.

And as I was imagining her defenseless during the attack - My throat constricted, my stomach turned, and my heart went down the rabbit hole of despair. However, I managed to speak to her gently, with tears welling up in my eyes:

"Señorita Burra, you’re not alone anymore, we’re here now and we will help you."

Warning: This video contains extreme images of the wounds of the rescued donkey lady. Please only click play if you are aware that these images may be emotionally distressing.

The Decision to Save or End Mila’s Life

We immediately set out to find the owner. When we found her, we drove back together to the injured donkey, Mila. The owner seemed shocked but emotionally detached as if it were not a living being but a broken refrigerator, we were just looking at. She suggested it would be better to “kill” her because it wouldn’t serve her anymore.

Hearing this, my system went completely wild. Trying to remain calm, I convinced her to call a veterinarian to assess the donkey's condition and see if she needed to be euthanized or could be saved. And I assured her we would cover the costs. She accepted the offer, and we quickly arranged for Laura from Caravana Canina, a vet who was deeply committed to animal welfare in Oaxaca.

Unexpected Setback: Villagers Refusing to Let Mila Go

However, while we were picking up Laura, Mila was attacked again, as the owner had left her in the same vulnerable spot. We were shocked, and my heart could hardly bear such neglect. To make matters worse, as Laura started treating her wounds, half the village gathered and refused to let her be taken to a hospital, insisting she was their property.

Despite Laura’s warnings that the donkey’s condition was severely life-threatening but that she could make it, if we took her to a hospital, the villagers blocked the transport.

Desperate, Laura decided to call the police, who ultimately decided that the donkey should be transported to the hospital. This long and stressful rescue operation stretched from 11 AM until 2 AM the next day.

Her Wounds Mirrored My Own

When I encountered the injured donkey in the bush, it was as though my own wounds became visible. The helplessness, neglect, and lack of appreciation I saw in her — triggered an extreme emotional response. Because her wounds mirrored my own.

The energy I mobilized to help her didn’t come from an open heart but from a desperate need for recognition and protection. This rescue was as much about saving myself as it was about saving her.

Even after Mila was safe and it was clear she would survive, I felt sadness. Although she was receiving the care she needed, my emotional wounds remained open. I longed for acknowledgment—for someone to tell me I had saved her. I had hoped to be part of her treatment and to connect with the organizations that took over her care. Instead, my need for recognition and community went unmet.

The thank-you I received after raising $1000 for her care was a simple “Gracias,”. And honestly? It shattered me. The villagers’ rejection, blaming me for the loss of their donkey, only deepened my isolation. Rather than feeling supported, I felt rejected, unseen, and completely alone.

My Ego Coming to The Surface

In this state of feeling overwhelmed, a flood of ego-driven thoughts were triggered:

“I did everything for the donkey, and this is the thanks I get?”
“How ungrateful the villagers are.”
“They’re so limited.”
“The women from the organizations must dislike me; that’s why their responses are so brief.”
“I must be unlikeable.”
“What did I do wrong?”

It's uncomfortable to admit these thoughts. A part of me wants to believe I'm always confident, peaceful, and loving. But I realized these judgments were just shields—protecting me from feeling the full depth of my pain. Although I began to recognize how distorted my perceptions were, I still couldn’t fully let myself fall into the pain.

Not just witnessing Mila’s neglect but on top of that being blamed instead of acknowledged for my help triggered unresolved trauma. Before I became fully conscious of my trauma activation, it manifested as exhaustion, tension, severe headaches, and panic attacks over several days—typical symptoms of trauma activation.

Resistance: The Struggle to Surrender into the Pain

As the days passed, I found myself trapped in resistance. One part of me didn’t want to feel the pain, while another part resisted feeling better, fearing it would mean betraying the pain. This internal conflict kept me stuck, prolonging my suffering.

“Pain is not there to harm you. It simply wants to be seen.”

The urge to isolate took over. I even asked my partner, Tillmann to leave so I could be alone (a common coping strategy of mine). But he refused, telling me, that it was time to accept his help. As usual, his demanding words only pushed me deeper into my exile, as I began to isolate myself emotionally even further.

Trapped in a feeling of uselessness and worthlessness — I felt separated from all love, meaning, and beauty. The physical sensations of this perception were unbearable. I lay motionless, numb, while an internal volcano of pain raged, demanding recognition.

I wanted to die, not because I didn’t want to live, but because I couldn’t bear the pain any longer. It was as if I couldn’t cope with this pain and wanted nothing more but to die.

And the more I resisted, the more it demanded recognition!

“When the flood of pain breaks out, it’s better to flow with it. Swimming against it (resistance) only delays the process.”

Breaking Free: When Rage Explodes the Barriers to Surrender

Tillmann kept trying to help, but in my state, I interpreted his efforts as invalidating my pain. His attempts to "pull me out" felt like a betrayal. I did not allow the pain to take up the full space. Nor did I allow myself to accept my partner’s efforts to help.

Resistance is the truly unpleasant part, the “I can’t do this,” “I don’t want this,” “I can’t go on.” It is resistance that makes everything so unbearable.

When Tillmann began to request more harshly, maybe even a little impatient, to finally pull myself together and take responsibility for my well-being. The pain inside that wanted to be acknowledged compassionately was triggered to an extent that it completely threw me off. A tremendous rage arose in me, an uncontrollable desire to destroy myself, to end my life immediately, and finish everything here and now: “Because no one will ever understand my pain! - I’m all alone. - I’m not worthy of compassion and nurture.”

I know this rage very well by now. Instead of engaging in its self-destructive behavior, and believing its thoughts, I managed to put on my over-ear noise-canceling headphones and listen to loud drumming music.

Within seconds, I luckily was able to fully immerse myself in the music and entered a trance-like-meditative state.

Finally, The Healing Journey Begins: Facing My Trauma

I naturally surrendered to the process and found myself falling deeply into my pain. The barriers finally broke, and it felt as if the music was carrying me inward, deeper into myself.

This time, it felt as if I was falling uncontrollably into the infinity of my pain. I choked, moaned, screamed, and convulsed.

Suddenly, images appeared before my inner eye, and I saw myself curled in the fetal position, very thin, lifeless, and almost dead with blueish skin, cold, naked, and defenseless.

Before my inner eye, I saw myself lying at the bottom of a well as if I were looking through a tunnel. As my tunnel vision widened, the scene changed, some dogs came running and tore pieces of flesh from my lifeless but still living body.

Around me, I saw people standing—cut off from any compassionate, loving emotions. They just stood there and watched. Their faces were like blank white paper, without expressions or emotions, just empty faces.

As these images appeared before my closed eyes, I continued to choke, moan, scream, and convulse. I was now drenched with tears, mucus, and sweat.

“These deep emotional healing journeys, which can instantly affect our well-being, I had often experienced during psychedelic journeys and had been able to guide myself through it. So, in a way, what was happening here was familiar to me - even though I hadn’t taken any psychedelics.”

The First Transformation:

Setting boundaries and taking space without violence.

As I moved through the exiled emotions, releasing them through tears, moaning, sweating, and movement, the scene before my mind’s eye suddenly shifted.

I saw a powerful light burst from my body, pushing away the dogs and people. This light clearly symbolized my long-forgotten inner strength.

In that moment, I felt a profound shift in my body: My spine straightened, my chest expanded, and the blood in my veins pulsed much more vibrantly than before.

Realizing the power of self-empowerment. Connecting with the Self.

My sense of victimhood was replaced by self-empowerment. I was no longer trying to shield myself from external harm—I was reclaiming my inner power. It became clear that my resistance and the desire to retreat were actually ways of denying my inner strength and power.

Accepting the pain and trust to be able to carry it was the key.

Instead of letting my pain overpower me, I could use it as a tool for self-discovery and growth. I realized that the real power lies in embracing the pain and remembering my capacity for inner resolve.

The thoughts during a state of resistance therefore shifted from

“I can’t do this,” “I don’t want this,” and “I can’t go on,” , “I want to die”

to

“I can do this, I’m capable, I want this, and I’m here to keep going, Iam alive!”

Embracing the unconscious - cultivating compassion and acceptance

Everything softened, my muscles relaxed, my heart filled with warmth, and I felt safe.

In my mind’s eye, the vision shifted, and now my dogs came running, lovingly licking and sniffing my now lifeless body lying on the ground. Then Mila, the donkey appeared. She was there, healthy, fully healed, but without her ears. She thanked me. Not with words — she sent warm, hopeful, soft yet powerful energy. She didn’t speak to my body lying there but looked at “me” in this vision. She appeared directly in front of my inner eye, gazing into my face, conveying a sense of appreciation, just as I had longed for all along.

Completion: What Integration of Trauma can look like.

Then the process was complete. I opened my eyes and became consciously aware of my breath. I felt exhausted, yet at the same time so much lighter, as if a heavy burden I had been carrying, was lifted.

I was back in touch with the world—not overly happy or bursting with energy, but calm, grounded, and peaceful. I was able to focus again on simple physical needs—eating something, picking a lemon from the garden, and making a refreshing lemon mineral water. I took a shower, tidied up my house, lit candles and incense, and took time to consciously pet my dogs. I enjoyed lying in my partner’s lap and letting him stroke my head.

Suddenly, after this journey, all these things were possible again.

Day by day, I could once again participate in life more fully and began reflecting on past situations and people’s reactions from a more neutral perspective. The short replies from the organizations and the reactions of the villagers could have had many different reasons. It’s possible that some don’t like me and indeed want to socially exclude me, but there are more likely explanations, such as time pressure or lack of capacity.

Probably the villagers felt unjustly interfered with and saw the traditional way of handling animals in their region being disrespected. This understanding could have helped me communicate more peacefully and empathetically with the villagers.

But when my wound was triggered, my mind cooperated with that wound and chose the most negative interpretations—one that particularly resonated with my pain.

“It is not the trauma that needs to be undone. To heal, we must give care and attention to the wounds.”

Lisa Krause

Final Thought

This text highlights that the suffering of Mila was not the actual cause of my pain, but rather it activated a deeper, unhealed trauma within me—one that I had not previously given enough loving attention.

In confronting this wound, intense physical sensations and a distorted perception emerged, revealing my resistance to feeling it and my desire to die. However, this desire for death was not directed against my body but against a part of my ego that acted as a wall to protect the hidden pain. Only through unconditional acceptance and experiencing the intensity of these emotions can true healing and liberation occur.

Recognizing the truth — the immense pain — and acknowledging your power to hold it brings freedom.

I understand that such trance or meditation journeys might seem too foreign to some people. Ten years ago, such a story would likely have repelled me rather than fascinated me. Take what seems useful to you and let the rest pass by.

For me, this blog entry is a personal diary entry, where I share my experiences raw and unfiltered, with the awareness of what is currently available to me..

Thank you for taking the time to read and reflect on my journey. Your presence here means a lot to me. I hope my words offered something valuable for you to take along on your own path. Feel free to share your thoughts or experiences in the comments, if you feel called to do so.

This video shows Mila a few weeks before she was attacked.

Thank you to Malte Zierden and to my dear friend Birgit Kos, who donated enough money to cover Mila’s treatment costs.