As I listened to Adele sing about “Turning Tables,” the sense of brokenness threatened to overwhelm: Am I good enough? Will I ever be okay? Will my heart ever heal, ever mend, ever stop being broken?
I sat on my meditation cushion and allowed the brokenness to grip my heart, to squeeze the breath from me. I finally allowed the warm tears I held back to quietly trace the face I tried to keep as hard as stone. I surrendered to the brokenness, too tired to fight the hopeless feeling that I would never be able to gather the fragments of myself together enough to ever have some semblance of Wholeness.
And then, in the silence behind the long exhale, I realized: Wholeness is a pre-existing condition. The sense of brokenness I was feeling at that moment was not real: I wasn’t born with this broken heart, with this broken sense of self. I didn’t come into this world at war with myself. Self-doubt and inadequacy have kept me feeling like I could never get all the pieces to fit back together.
So I began to relax and to stop trying so damn hard, and I breathed deeply, deep below the brokenness and back to the Wholeness that had always been there, waiting for me to return. …