Broken

I’m going to blame Elizabeth Gilbert.

It was her interview with Rob Bell that made me think I needed to be less repressed and learn to be OK with expressing my feelings.

“That sounds like a lovely idea!” I thought, momentarily giddy with inspiration.

The reality is so much different.

I like to contain things. Tie emotions up in beautifully wrapped blog pieces and dust my hands off when I click the ‘publish’ button.

Control, analyse, rationalise, suppress.

Circumstances have conspired to wear me down again this week – a sinus infection, broken sleep, raging hormones, sick children and an unfortunate chopping incident. I’m feeling all the feels, and struggling with the mess and chaos.

I miss the capable ‘me’. But is that really the whole story?

I’m efficient, angry, loving, frustrated, considerate, selfish, generous, prideful and broken.

I’m struggling to love the parts of me that don’t ‘fit’ into my self-ordained puzzle.

I have a suspicion that hunching over my little offering furiously trying to make the pieces fit…is only making me miss the complex beauty of brokenness.

This post is a part of a link up for Five Minute Friday, a community of fellow writers who write for 5 minutes every Friday together on a prompt.

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