There are times in my life when I know I’m broken
and I’m okay with that.
I have scars, scars that run across my skin and scars that run deep through my very being. Most of us do, from superficial scratches on our surface to deep canyons that reside in dark places. We all have history, and emotional pain stays with you, no matter how much you try to let go.
I’m not talking of forgiveness here; maybe I’ll post on that another day, but even when you can or have let go, the experience, the memory, will always be with you. You can’t erase the things you’ve been through, and it’s good that we can’t.
I’m a firm believer in the fact that we are not perfect and nor should we worry about trying to be perfect. I want to be good, kind, loving, and harness many other beautiful characteristics, but I don’t need to be perfect. Along with my good qualities, I embrace rebellion, curiosity, cynicism, and other traits, as I believe you can’t know the good without the bad, and after all we are human.
This also means that though I would love to live on a fairly even keel, I am grateful that I don’t.
I’ve known pain. You’ve known pain. And whilst the levels of pain we’ve known may differ, they are powerful and good. The fact that we’ve known pain means we can enhance the joy that we feel too.
There is an exquisite extreme to emotions, sorrow and joy, and to know one you have to truly know the other.
I have felt broken, and I have been broken, but I am also mended.
Many things can fix you. Family, love, religion, nature, chocolate, even money – but know that despite being mended your scars still endure.
I used to worry about my scars; they still decorate my skin and remind me constantly of the times that have hurt. Right now they are white, and pink, and narrow and pale. They’ve filled in, healed, mended, but they’re still there. I live with them and I love them, because they are me.
We need to love our brokenness. We need to embrace the scars that have healed us, for they have made us who we are.
The Japanese have a wonderful procedure called Kintsukuroi (golden repair) or Kintsugi (golden joinery) and they have beautified brokenness.
It is the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.
Is there anything more beautiful than someone who can embrace their flaws and know that they are worth more for what they have been through?
We are all broken, in a way, we all have scars, some more visible than others. And even when you are healed, those scars, those things you’ve been through have made you stronger. Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable, to be flawed, and to be broken.
We don’t have glass hearts that can shatter beyond repair, we don’t have crystal spirits that can splinter beyond hope, we are made of stronger stuff, and even if we need repairing at times, we are all the more beautiful for it.
Beautiful post thank you. I too love my scars are they are a reminder of where I`ve been and where I now am.
And we’re just as beautiful with them xxx
I don’t like the word ‘broken’ – it is redolent of destruction and to some extent, of hopelessness. We’re on the same page here, but just to keep that word as a personal reference in your psyche is to admit to frailty. The truth is, that which does not kill you makes you stronger, and yes, that which attempts to damage you merely defines what you are. And then again, baggage is so heavy. The older you get, the more baggage it seems you have to carry, unless you learn to forgive yourself. You can shed it all, just as you can shrug off a conscience. Thank you, I’ve done learning. It’s time to live! 🙂
I see that the word broken affects people in different ways, you’re very right that after pain and hurt we are stronger. I think I embrace the moments I’ve been broken, because I have forgiven and been mended. Because of those moments I am stronger and able to live more!
Thanks for commenting, Frederick, it’s definitely time to live! 🙂