Tag Archives: lost

Solace for the Broken: The Power of Cracks & Holes

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“There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” ~ Leonard Cohen

I am a big believer in the power of cracks and holes, the ‘lost-ness’ and brokenness that transforms us.

I believe that we can exist in those dark moments; cracked apart and fallen to pieces, because that is the doorway through which we begin catching glimpses of our reflected light shining through.

And it is thanks to those cracks that we can slowly wipe the dust from our eyes as we reassemble ourselves.

“Take these broken wings and learn to fly.” ~ Paul McCartney

When feeling lost, drifting in limbo, and downright confused to the very marrow of our bones, embrace it. Let us be lost and honor ourselves as the wounded broken thing that we are in that moment.

There is magic in broken things, for it is in being shattered to pieces that all the potential in the world is held — to be rebuilt into something unexpected. We have the abilities to truly surprise ourselves.

This wide open space can seem terribly scary and vast. Our cracks and holes may at first appear to us as being empty, chasms of lack within. This is not so.

Instead of focusing on this feeling of lack that ‘lost-ness’ brings us up against, we can see this as an opening before us with limitless possibilities, one in which our light from within can shine through to guide us along.

When lost, any direction can be the right way. All paths are now available to you in some form or another. And since this is the case, it is not that you are losing direction, but gaining an opportunity for new choices.

You are not losing yourself, but being gifted with a way to know yourself deeper than ever before.

“Holiness has most often been revealed to me in the exquisite pun of the first syllable, in holes- in not enough help, in brokenness, mess. High holy places, with ethereal sounds and stained glass, can massage my illusion of holiness, but in holes and ‘lost-ness’ I can pick up the light of small ordinary progress, newly made moments flecked like pepper into the slog and the disruptions.” ~ Anne Lamott

So disasssemble yourself. Close your eyes and spin yourself around a few times. Lose direction on purpose. Lose yourself completely, and you can delight in the search to find yourself again. To explore with new eyes the mysterious terrain right in front of you.

Shatter yourself in a thousand little pieces, and reassemble them. We are more beautiful for being broken.

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Published on Rebelle Society.

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When We Hit The Wall

The ebb and flow of the creative process presents us with two very different ways of looking at the times of stillness. It can feel like a dreaded curse, or an invitation to enter our soft inner cocoon and transform, even just a little.

This poem is for everyone who has ever felt stuck, lost and hopeless, and is a reminder that only in the darkness can we see the stars.

When We Hit The Wall

{A Poem} By Jenn Lui

The landscape before us changes
There is an unbearable stillness
In the air that grows stale and wretch
All colors fade and retreat

The great expanse curls and shrivel
Dries up on itself and shrinks
Hardened and cruel
Into the wall before us pressing tightly

The air grows thicker and thicker
Gasping and panicking we scream
Our bloody fingers scratching
For freedom beyond this confinement

We look up and see the engulfing dark sky above
Stars shining brighter than ever before
Amazed and bewildered we stare
And see the same stars in each other’s eyes

We remember once again the greatest truth
Of the magnificent illusion
The continuous nature of time and space
Our hurried heart beats begin to slow

Suddenly the hard and jagged walls soften
Surrounding us instead like a blanket
Warm and gentle beckoning us to rest
Our healing cocoon holding us safely

When we hit the wall
It can be hard, cold and cruel
Or softly inviting us to transformation
Until we emerged anew into the world

Bleed it out

Photo: Bleed it out by Jenn Grosso

Within this stuck-ness, if I can dig a little deeper and open myself up a little more, there’s a well inside waiting. Waiting for me to have the courage to embrace it all and bleed it out.

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
~ Ernest Hemingway

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Filed under Honoring the Medicine, Poetic Insights