I broke a glass lid to a sauce pot today and it has made me fall further into my ever present feelings.
This morning as the A.M. sprint started turning into a marathon, something happened. In the middle of finishing breakfast, I yanked a glass lid out of the cabinet and it shattered.
My immediate reaction was “why the fuck is this happening now” which turned into “well fucking get moving because you are the only motherfucker here to clean up all the mess”. Staring at the broken glass made me angry, sad, upset, disappointed and made me feel tired in a metaphysical sense.
Let’s examine how a shattered glass lid turned into lightweight therapy for the soul…
1. I broke the glass. Why? I wanted fruit compote on my waffles and I was willing to make it from scratch. Sometimes, we want things and because we want those things they may lead to calamity or disappointment. You have to own up to your desires and the consequences that come from trying to acquire said desires.
2. The glass shattered everywhere. No matter that I had all the tools to clean up the mess, I kept finding shards long after the initial break. When we break people or when people break us, they leave shards EVERYWHERE. Some shards slip under the rug and you won’t deal with them until they are stuck in your feet. Some shards splatter and move into other rooms, meaning they affect other parts of your life like your job, your friendships, your creative space. Those have to be cleaned up, as well. You have to do the work to clean up all the shards of brokenness in your life. If you don’t, you or someone you love will step on that shard and be hurt. When people break spiritually, physically and mentally, they are hurt and they hurt other people in tandem. Do the work, clean up all the broken shards of your spirit.
3. Just because you cannot see big shards of glass doesn’t mean there aren’t slivers of glass lying about in plain sight. The thing about broken glass, you have to keep sweeping the area. Then you have to vacuum the area for the smaller pieces. Slivers you cannot see readily with the naked eye. You catch a glimmer of them when the light hits them ever so slightly. They look beautiful and because they are so small they are easy to ignore, but those slivers — they are painful. They are more painful than the shards, because they come later when you thought all was well. They may bury deep in the skin and cause more calamity than the initial break. Slivers represent triggers. Learn your triggers. Tidy up your response to your triggers and face then head on. Quietly, as not to cause alarm, try to eradicate or learn to manage those broken slivers of yourself that pop up now and again. There will always be broken parts of you that you couldn’t see then when you tried to mitigate the bigger problem.
And while you break, while there is brokenness, while there are shards and slivers of glass all around, you mourn. Mourn as you see fit but do mourn as it is best to deal with the loss of various parts of yourself. Mourning makes it easier to rebuild or simply let go.
So I broke a glass lid today and I am sad in tandem, not just about the shock of losing a lid I used quite often but about pieces of me that I have lost over the years. Pieces of me, like the pot lid, that seem to break into a million pieces. Pieces of me that I had to discard for the betterment of self and all who I loved around me.