Broken Pieces

I’m not entirely sure about the title of this site, “Pursuit of my Truth”, but I just can’t shake it, I mean that’s what I’m doing, that’s what this is all about; trying to figure shit out, my shit, trying to figure my shit out. Can I say ‘shit’ on my blog??

Since leaving Canada and embarking on this trip (I’ll talk more about the travel stuff later), I’ve been trying various techniques in an effort to discover my truth. Iyanla Vanzant did a series called broken pieces, where she talks about discovering your truths by identifying all of your broken pieces; all of the painful moments in your life, the negative feelings, disappointments and heartbreaks, that which you are ashamed of, or have buried so deep you don’t even know its there, identifying it all, and allowing yourself to feel the pain, to sit with it, accept it, and find peace. One broken piece at a time until you are whole again. I started on this process, through my personal journaling, a few months ago. I think I’ve only really worked through one broken piece in my life, so according to my count I have about 10 more to go, and I’m sure more will surface as I continue through the process, not to mention the current events in my life which keep breaking me into more pieces as I’m trying to put myself back together again.

So where to begin? And where do I go from here?? The process of healing yourself, and of discovering who you are and what you want out of life is incredibly exhausting, long and difficult. This type of work requires motivation and courage and strength. And if you are in the middle of a storm, and it constantly feels like your insides are on the outside, swirling around you chaotically, and you are just a shell of your former self, where does the strength come from?

Fortunately for me it seems to be that I have an endless supply of strength. Having just been dealt the final blow, something I thought would shatter my existence if it should happen, happened, and instead of it being the end of everything, the end of me, I think it could be the beginning. But that is a choice in itself. I’m surprised I guess with what I’ve been feeling in the last few days; kinda sad in certain moments, kinda like something is missing from me; I feel  like instead of these big chunks of broken pieces from my past that Im working through, procrastinating working through rather, its as though little ashes are falling away from me, little pieces, like Im shedding a layer of skin and am about to emerge, or something? There’s a sadness yes, but there’s this strange and very subtle excitement as well. Maybe this is what they mean by “its as though a weight was lifted”, maybe this is the first taste of freedom, maybe this is what is feels like to loosen your your grip on false hope, to let it all go…finally to cry with a smile on your face, because yes you are sad, and fucked up and you will have to deal with it, but you are also free and full of hope, real hope.

So here’s a truth of mine; I know how to lie to myself, I know how to create my own storm because I don’t YET know how to break my patterns, but I am learning. I’m learning the lesson that you can not control others, but only can be responsible for your choices. I now know I will only ever choose to survive, because now I can see this is the choice I have always made. I have a responsibility in my own pain, but I also will always have a way through as long as I choose to keep moving forward, I simply don’t have it in me to settle.

Break my trust, Break my heart, try your damnedest cause you will never break me.