Broken, but enough

Broken, but enough

Now before ya roll your eyes and go ohhhh shit! Not this today! I promise, it won’t be as bad as you’re thinking! Yep, a guy who will ride a unicorn on a stick, while wearing ranger panties and a Santa hat in a snowstorm while doing a traffic report is about to lay down some profound thought. Hahahaha Yes, I’m broken, and yes, though I often feel like I’m not enough and empty inside, I am enough, and so are you! Knowing I was finally gonna start writing this blog has sent me on a roller coaster of emotions. If you take time to read the poetry I’m posting up, I think you’ll understand me a bit better.

Anyway, lately I’ve been talking to and hoping to help some friends and myself. I’ve been thinking a lot about healing oneself and what it looks like. This made me think of Kintsugi. The Japanese practice of repairing pottery with gold. Rather than throwing away the broken pottery. The cracks are now accentuated. The piece more valuable.

This made me think of myself and others who are or have at times been broken. It also made me do a surface dive into how it’s done. Sadly, like healing ourselves, it’s not a quick process. I’ll skip the details but feel free to look it up yourself.

I prefer silver. So, I started to imagine what would I and others look like if our wounds from life were repaired with silver? My heart, my soul, my mind and body would be crisscrossed with silver lines. The wounds, now scars would be accentuated. The wounds we are working on would be stitched in silver thread to remind up we are working on them until we heal, and it becomes a thin silver line.

Why? If we could all see each other’s wounds like this, whether we knew the reason or not, maybe someone who hadn’t started the healing yet would see it and begin the process. Learning that while one will never be who they may have been without being broken but coming to understand the strength and beauty that comes during and after the healing. Making us stronger and more beautiful and even more than enough than had we never been wounded. We would be like beautiful silver crisscrossed butterflies emerging after metamorphosis.

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