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November 8, 2016

Shattered Glass.

Have you ever just felt broken?

There is no poetic or beautiful way to describe the pain. It just is. Like shards of glass sticking into your ribs. You look at the glass, you wonder where the pieces came from, how long they have been there sticking in you. So you sit back and you exam yourself.

You could have sworn light was shinning through. You didn’t know that they where really there, lodged deep within you. Rainbows still painted your skies, laughter still sang its sweet noise. The stars still twinkled at night.

No, you didn’t know there was glass sticking out of you. What once was whole, complete in every way, has shattered inside of you. You have lived with the pain for so long, that the pieces of glass no longer hurt. Only when the whole piece was completely shattered did you feel the intensity of the blow. That first true, deep, pain. The pain inside of you that you ran from. But you could never get away. No. Not completely. It was and has always been inside of you, breathing through you.

Then, when you thought you had healed from that first initial blow life happened again. Another piece of glass lodged in your rib cage. This one hurting, but not as bad as the last blow did.

And then another piece, and another, and another. Until one day you wake up and you don’t remember what whole felt like, for you haven’t been whole since you can’t remember when.

Eventually you grow up and you get older. You start to see the reflection of these sharp pieces. They get your attention, though only for a moment. You choose to ignore them and continue on as the person you have become. Aware, and yet so unaware of the shards of glass lodged so deeply inside of you, that they are you.

This once beautiful mirror, a light of life, can now cut others. Can bleed from wounds so long gone, they seem like a bad nightmare. This, this, has become you. You are still beautiful, yes. You still love your friends, your family. You just love in a guarded way. In a way that keeps that sliver of glass just a millimeter away from piercing your heart at any given moment. If you breathed though, it could. It could stab you in the heart so quickly, so effortlessly, why, why risk it?

What happened to that perfect mirror? That beautiful reflection of your heart? Where did the cracks start to happen to the point where eventually the glass shattered and no longer stood a mirror?

Life happened. After awhile we stop noticing the dull, throbbing pain. The shards of glass grow over with a new skin. Thicker. Tougher. Not as prone to feel the pain anymore. And we go on with our lives.’

The more this happens, the quicker we are to bounce back. At least the quicker I am to bounce back.

Until one day I got curious and I started to look. I saw a shard here and a shard there. I looked away, quicker than, well, a girl looking at her scars would. I saw my pain, I saw how far it went back.

They say we walk around this world with masks on to protect us from the inflicted pain of another’s glass. To keep that sliver of glass away from our beating heart. And so we walk through this life not truly knowing ourselves. Not understanding our pain. It is easier to look away, like a car crash you see coming.

But what do you do when you see a part of you that even you do no understand ? A part of you that has been with you since day one. You try to tame it, hoping that it won’t get your attention by screaming at you. When that doesn’t work, it starts to throw a fit so loud and fierce within yourself that you have no other choice but to pay attention to the pain of your own heart.

All it has ever wanted, all it has ever needed is for you to just look. Just look. You spent so many years afraid, ignoring the past. Living with glass so close to the center of your soul that if you moved wrong it would stab you and yet you continued to live. All your heart ever wanting was you.

I have gotten to that very point in my life. I am screaming at myself, begging, screaming to be heard. All I want to do is run. I run, I run, I RUN. There is this part of me that is so deeply rooted within my soul, I can’t begin to understand it. I have tried to tame it, I have tried to chain it down. It still screams at me. Like a child having a tantrum. No. I can not ignore this part of me anymore.

I realize that starts with an accepting of who I am. Of what I am. Every piece of logic in me says to tame her. Tame the part of my soul that wants to travel. To tame the part that can’t stand being in one place more than a few years. I can throw contracts at my soul. I can throw money. All she asks for is to be free.

She has been asking for years. Just to let her be free to roam this world. I have no choice but to listen to myself. The tantrums are too loud, unlike me. There has been this part of me that I have been ignoring, trying to silence for so long.

There is another part of me, the piece of glass that sits just so close to my heart, that is afraid to love again. To honestly, truly love. I see these pieces of glass through the thickness of my own skin. They are tender, to be approached with only the love I can give them.

Namaste.

One Comment on “Shattered Glass.

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