Saturday, March 24, 2012


I journeyed in my mind to reclaim the five shards of my broken soul. It had happened not quite all at once, you see, but over a period of years, where stresses and cracks developed over time. Then, when the day of trauma came, and my being was taken by the others, and thrown to the ground, it shattered like an urn, or clay vessel, into a million pieces. Those pieces of me were lost, gone forever, except for one large shard that was all that was left of me. I dwelled and lived only in that one large piece.

Sure, I could have picked up the pieces… I could have glued them back together, but to what end? The vessel would never have been the same. It would have never held water, and would have leaked like a sieve. Emotions would have poured out of me, and spilled upon the ground for all to see. No, thought I, I would never be the same, and so chose to leave those pieces behind. Instead, I would grind up the fragments that were no longer me, and mix them with new clay, and pot up a new container, which could be fired and made anew. I would throw in a few flowers, and plant s and herbs, so that it would smell nice, and infuse within it a strength of nature, and bring a magickal quality to its constitution.

But there were five shards that I realized needed to be saved out. I had put them into a pack… the aged burden backpack from the days gone by, when I used to meditate and throw the pack over the bridge so that it could float away down the river. Every time I would find myself picking up those burdens, I would release it, and let it go, so it would drift away. But when I put these five shards of my ancient-vessel-being into the pack, I noticed it went to the side, and got stuck on a branch by the water’s edge. It hung there, calling to me. I ran across the bridge and plucked it out of the water, and took the five shards out, and put them in a safe place by a tree at the edge of the wilderness, not far from the river. I released the burden pack back into the water, where it floated downstream and out of sight.

Today, I chose to journey, and the sound of the rattle took me down into the underworld, and to the bridge, and the tree by the river, where the five shards lay safely tucked away. This was the very first time I decided to look at the shards, to see what they actually were. I had considered it before, but hadn’t done anything until now. It seemed a brave prospect. Reaching down, I chose the largest shard first.

I felt it. It was soft and pliable, and warm, and it beat like a drum. I knew instantly that this large piece was my heart. My heart, which had broken. I had lost it and left it behind. Why had I chosen to ignore it and abandon it? Did I not need it? Would I not need it one day soon? I felt of my heart shard, and replaced it where my heart would go, placing it within my chest. Wow.

The second and third shards were medium-sized. I grabbed up one, and felt of it. It was anger. Would I need anger? Did I have any use for such? It appeared like a dark spot far away, and I realized that anger was also drive to make a change, and was only a useful tool if used properly. I had rejected that anger in the past because of the hurt it brought to me, but now it seemed to be useful if used sparingly, and kept at a distance most of the time. It was worthy of keeping. I placed it in my abdomen, at the place of my diaphragm and the orange chakra center of my being. It would be useful one day.

I then reached for the other middle-sized shard. Instantly I knew it was hope. This realization came to me so fast! I had lost all hope before, and here it was before me. I didn’t even realize I had missed it, because it had been gone from me for so long. I placed the hope into the upper and back side of my head.

I started to get ahold of the fourth shard, which was one of the last two smallest ones, yet larger than the fifth and last one. However, something told me to wait. I put it down, and instead grasped the very smallest shard, which appeared to be about the size of a quarter. It was drive, or more specifically, sexual drive. Not all of it, but a part of it. Part that I had suppressed and that disappeared when I had broken apart… I had not needed it since I had been alone for 2 ½ years. I placed it at the area of my red chakra, where it belonged.

I considered the last piece, wondering about it, and why I had to wait for it. I picked it up; it appeared to be about the size of a lemon slice, and was equally sour. It was joy, gone bad. Rotten like fruit that had been past its prime. The joy, although once there in a relationship with someone I loved, had fled, and the life within that joy had gone from it, in a natural way. Entropy. The state of something unused, unmaintained, unneeded. The joy had lost its luster, and had faded to waste. Did I need this joy any more? It was no longer ripe, so I knew I did not. The joy attached to that relationship was gone, so I planted it by the roots of the large tree, so that it could rot in the ground and become natural fertilizer to help the tree grow, and so perhaps its essence of energy could enter the tree branches and begin again, in a new way. For now it was buried, but not forgotten, just released to nature to do what it is supposed to do, and be what it is supposed to be.

My five shards had been reclaimed… removed from the burden bag, placed in a safe spot, reconsidered and replaced within me as was needed, or by the tree roots as was applicable. These were parts lost from me, and now were again part of me. I could again begin to feel whole.

1 comment:

  1. I really enjoyed your post Sharon. Thoughtful and dripping with wisdom gained only through experience! Thank you! Karen