The Power of Surrender and Repair

Like a delicate wine glass tossed upon the casing of a doorway—I pop and shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. It is here I find myself, once again, lying upon the ground—snot filled, bruised and bloody. Within this last cycle of time, I have come upon many thresholds—only to be broken over them. As I laid amongst the wreckage, I was left to pull the pieces back together. The jagged and the sharp. The missing and the rounded. They were reassembled into the same, but I have become a different shape of myself.

It is here where the truth resides—in the broken brilliance of me.

Within deep sobs of surrender, I find myself unraveling even more. Grief’s swell pulls me close, while I shudder and shake. Witnessing the unraveling of truth, understanding that all I can do, is to let it be as it is. The truth is reclaimed within the sacred act of allowing; simply bearing witness to fear and the illusive spell it casts upon the heart. As I watched, the fear rose; a crescendo of energy built to crash, and tumbled over me. Instead of bracing, I softened, and as I did, it moved through me, sweeping away the weight of anguish and dread.

Faith in the divine nature of things—a mother’s gentle kiss upon the forehead, supple rose petals of grace—holds me here in her protective embrace, and gives me strength to be born anew. A creation of life’s work and of love’s devotion, transforming me over and over again.

In the quiet of a new day, I surrender. I allow love to show me the way through, trusting in the benevolent tenderness that continues to love and hold me dear.