Broken and whole

When I was young I dreamed I stood on the backs of wild horses that ran through an untamed country of my very own creation. No obstacles in my path, just my future spread before me, an assumed celestial bounty. After all, are we all not gods incarnate?

In my youth I believed that to be whole meant never to be broken.

Love was mine to claim, it waited just beyond the bend, or maybe just a little further. And the days rolled into years but I’m not one to push the river, I have patience in spades, or perhaps I’m not that patient. No, apparently I’m not.

But in my lover’s mind I believed that to be whole I had to find another half.

We built a life together, a makeshift clapboard tower of a life, built it up and up and up without ever looking back. Well occasionally I glanced at the things I’d left behind, then got back about the building. Until one day I didn’t. One day I turned to go, and he just shook his head no.

But before I could protest my deliverance was offered, I felt the floor beneath me give, in fact the tower was collapsing, buckling, tumbling down around me, I was falling to the ground.

When I was young I dreamed that all the riches of the heart…well, I dreamed the most amazing things. Sometimes I catch their scent, I breathe deep and try to hold it in my lungs. Where have they gone, my dreams?

Eventually I gathered up the broken pieces of myself and headed down an empty road, except the road it was not empty. No the road was full of travelers, so many gentle travelers. Would you care to share a drink? I stopped to drink a cup of solace and then they filled my cup again from within the broken places in themselves.

They said, are we all not gods incarnate gifted with the power of creation, are we all not broken spirits searching, feeling our way home, treading on an unknown path towards our half-remembered dreams? Come and share a cup of friendship, come and share a cup of laughter. We are unrepentant dreamers, we are life’s discarded saints, shining fallen gods incarnate, we once stood on the backs of wild horses! Come and sit a spell beside us, come and have another drink.

I was overcome with sleep, I closed my eyes and it was then that I saw clearly how they understood the simplest of equations. That when we’re broken open we can give ourselves away and give and give and in the giving we’re replenished, and one day we finally know the joy of what it feels like to be whole.

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Nov. 25th is White Ribbon Day

A day dedicated to the elimination of violence against women

This is my story of violence

This is the fall that followed

These are just a few of the many, many people who helped soften my fall

There are so many more
Thank you for helping me to my feet
Thank you for walking with me

If you are living with violence or in fear of violence

Please, please reach out for help

You are surrounded by people who will walk the dark parts with you

Even if you do not know it

When you are ready to start your journey

They will appear

Godspeed xx