Being whole...

So many times in our lives we feel broken. Sometimes it comes as a small emptiness within, other times it manifests as a deep and encompassing sorrow. Shattered pieces of our hearts within our body, filling up the empty space. Shards of heart, throbbing pieces, leaking the life blood into the cavernous space created by waves of sorrow. So big that it feels that it will never heal. Life slowing leaching out of you, weakening your soul and your resolve.

Pulling yourself along, hoping that your grief isn't too big, overwhelming for those around you, finding the space within yourself to continue, even when it seems that you can't. The brokenness of our selves hidden behind a thin sheath of grief, visible to those around us who struggle to find a way to help.

The journey, dark and winding, is covered with a thick blanket of sorrow. Walking the path, hoping to find where the fog begins to lift. After a long walk that is mired with hills and valleys, you crest a hill that begins to shed some light. The winds of change shift the clouds away and an ocean breeze begins to blow. Gently, at first, things become clearer, the light begins to shine. The tribe gathers in a circle, connected by the light. The healer emerges from the center, places hand over heart, covering the cavernous space within.

Slowly, the space within begins to close, gently pulling in. The shards of heart softening, sealing together one piece at a time. Heartbeats, rhythmically pulsing, sending the life blood to the injured parts, slowly healing the spaces of the body and soul that were thought to be irreparable. One day at a time, the pieces coming together, each putting together the being that was previously shattered, one day at a time, making it whole.

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