There’s a difference between failing at something and being broken. Failing just means you try again; or not, depending on what you have learned from the failure. Broken means something else entirely. There is a hole that needs to be filled, or a chasm that needs to be bridged, a fence mended, a mountain leveled or a stream bed cleared.
Broken means inward attention. Something needs to stem the bleeding, or open a window to let in some fresh air and sunshine.
Broken means a hell of a lot more work, frankly.
Starting with first realizing that there was a break to begin with. So many people can’t see clearly enough the chips or cracks in their own personal vessels. They’re quick enough to point out the flaws in other people’s vessels.
It’s a tricky thing, this clearing of the sight long enough to see what the breakage in self might be. Linger too long, and your vision narrows. The outer world fades away, and you are caught in blackened rooms, the smoldering wreckage of self-pity. Poor me! you cry out – the world is so unfair.
That narrowed focus remains only on you and sadly makes the fixing practically impossible. Remember! While a break is rarely the doing of a single entity, the fixing of the break frequently stays entirely in your own hands, regardless of who helped create the crack or the chip.
If you are tired of your spirit seeping out through the cracks and chips, of the trapdoor opening again and again, plunging you repeatedly down to experiences you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, then you need to keep the vision wide. See the whole picture. You are just a piece of a bigger puzzle – no matter how big your vessel feels to you.
At best, the realization of broken places allows you to step back, take stock, look ahead and heal. At worst, you stay stuck.
Sticking is not a place many want to be. Most folks want to move ahead. Most folks realize that the cracks, the chips, the flaws in their vessel are part and parcel of their individual natures. If we were all perfect glazed porcelain what a boring world it would be . . . and here’s the thing about boring.
You might think boring means safe, but it so rarely does . . . mostly it means there is a place for wickedness to come in and make mischief. To relieve the boredom.
People are a mad lot. They need a challenge, a quest, a goal. Something to strive for, to aim at, to attain. If there isn’t something readily accessible, they create one.
But their creation stories tend to leave something to be desired. Their stories are slanted towards too much filth, cowardice and despair – or towards too much glory, pure intentions, and wholesomeness.
Where is the balance between light and dark? Good and evil? Joy and despair? Where are the shades in between white and black? And who does not hold those shades in his or her individual hands?
Find your grey. Live there. Be happy.