Upon experiencing the most emotionally painful years of a lifetime, slowly, deliberately, I am restored.
We break, stumble, we are fractured.
Sometimes we stay broken a long time. Sometimes it’s more exhausting in our attempts to heal than otherwise. Which is why there appears comfort in our fractured selves: the familiarity of pain is what we know. It’s like a raggedy blanket we’re not quite willing to let go of…….yet.
The process of restoration of thyself is its own. No two people are on the same path. No need to compare ourselves to others. (I know, I do it too. 🙂 We are human after all.)
To restore is to disassemble and begin again. It’s to take gigantic leaps of faith and become a raw version of ourselves. We humans love to judge others and we’re pretty good at that. Much more pleasant to look at someone else’s fractures than our own.
Yet why so important to restore our own selves?
Empathy and compassion. These are the ties that bind. These are the life-changers that lead to restoration. It won’t happen tomorrow or the next day. You may not even feel that different. You will know you’re on the path when you’re able to set yourself aside a bit longer each time triggers are set. Eventually, piece by piece, a sense on continuity begins to blossom; assemblance and restoration begins.
More soon on this. It’s kind of a big deal to me these days.
Peace out, kids.