Broken

Years ago, I met a teacher of mine who taught the mantra, “You are not broken. You don’t need to be fixed.”

At the time, it was a profound message for me. I had spent a lot of time in my “younger” years trying to fix myself. Making endless lists of what to do to be better, setting unattainable goals. Always trying to fix myself. Focusing on the flaws that needed to be corrected.

That phrase released me from the battle with myself. I stopped trying to fix myself. I stopped focusing on my flaws. Instead, I focused on what i was creating, who I was becoming. There were still plenty of times where hard lessons about things I needed to do differently would smack me in the face. But I didn’t feel stuck in an endless cycle of fixing anymore.

“You’re not broken. You don’t need to be fixed.”

But somewhere along the line, the phrase became a threat to the peace it had oNce created. Instead of a message of encouragement, it was a statement on how I should feel. Which, sometimes, was different than how I actually felt.

You see, I embraced the message “not broken”. I believed it with all my heart.

And then life happened, as it usually does. There was no crisis, no devastating turn of events, just a gradual shift, a slow wearing down. Life cycles like this. At the high point in the cycle, I was “not broken” and free. At the low point in the cycle, I felt broken.

Not only does it suck to feel broken, it sucks to feel like you’re not supposed to feel broken. Like you’re supposed to know better.

I was living a wonderful life. I was blessed beyond belief. I had no reason to feel anything but gratitude and joy.

But I did. I felt confused. I felt tired. I felt sad. I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like every place that I had ever felt like I belonged was gone.

In short, I felt broken. And I felt broken for not being able to stop feeling broken.

What do you do?

Honestly? I don’t know yet. But here’s what I do know:

Sometimes people feel broken. Sometimes life is confusing and hard and it hurts and you can’t help but wonder if you can handle it all. It doesn’t make you wrong or bad or “broken” to admit to feeling broken. In fact, I think it does the opposite. I think being able to walk through every part of the cycle, the highs and the lows, and be honest and present in each part, makes you whole, not broken. I think it makes you human.

It’s ironic in many ways: the act of allowing yourself to feel broken actually means you’re not broken.

This is what it means to be human. To feel joy, hope, enlightenment. To feel sorrow, hurt, betrayal, regret. Feelings are every color of the human rainbow, a rainbow that isn’t complete without all of its colors. To deny our human feelings is to deny part of this rich and vibrant experience. For we all know it to be true: you can’t understand sorrow without joy, you can’t understand hope without fear, and you can’t appreciate wholeness until you have been broken.

“You are not broken. You don’t need to be fixed.” It’s still true. You are not broken. When you feel broken, you are simply experiencing one of the many phases of being wholly human. You are not broken, you are whole.

And you don’t need to be fixed. You simple need to be you. Perfectly imperfect. Wholly human. When you find yourself in the dark nights, the lowest point of the cycle, you don’t need to be fixed. You simply need to keep going.