Broken Biscuits

In many ways, I’ve always felt like the broken biscuit in the box, the one that languishes in the bottom until there’s nothing else left and, even then, it doesn’t look like a very tempting treat. After all, who wants a broken biscuit when there are lots of other perfectly formed, whole biscuits gleaming and longing to be eaten, tantalising the taste buds? Of course, the broken biscuit doesn’t taste any different, but, with its imperfections on full display, it’s easy to feel ‘less than’, (not that, to the best of my knowledge, biscuits develop complexes). Perhaps it’s genetic, coming from ‘survival of the fittest’, meaning we are programmed to opt for the perfectly formed biscuit, but is the broken biscuit really ‘less than’? For much of my life, I believed this and felt like the doll left sitting on the shelf, the one with the wonky eye and missing leg, the one that could never truly ‘fit’ or belong. I felt like I’d voided my warranty and, however hard I tried, I simply couldn’t fix myself or make peace with the me I’d become.

I spent years doing battle with myself; trying to present a façade of acceptance and wholeness, but, all the while, crumbling inside. Of course, such a façade couldn’t be sustained indefinitely and the effort to maintain it grew bigger and bigger. I confess, I didn’t wake up one day and ‘see the light’; I just broke. I fell apart and there was nothing left to sustain the pretence: I was me in all my broken glory. I didn’t like what I saw but at least it was real. I had nowhere left to hide and, after the initial panic of having such a realisation passed, I was thankful.

I’ve spent my whole life running and I couldn’t anymore (physically, spiritually or metaphorically). I was thankful as I wasn’t spending all of my time trying to be the person I thought I ought to be or needed to be. Life is a puzzling conundrum; awareness, wisdom and understanding come in bits and pieces. We’re not presented with an instruction manual or given a ‘meaning of life by numbers’ like the painting games of childhood. Of course, when we’re young, we still have the courage we’re born with but life often erodes this as we become automatons in a society of the ordinary and pedestrian, feeling we should be sheep but intuitively knowing we’re not. This can shackle us and, over time, our spark fades and we lose sight of the magic within.

When we’re young, possibility is scattered all around and within us, and life slowly comes together with the experiences we have (and do not have). Initially the words tumble as they dance around our consciousness until the sentences take shape with time and experience. We can’t write the book of our life until we’ve reached a point of understanding; a reconciliation point or a time to ‘bring it all together’. There will always be unanswered questions but we need to accept this and learn how to thrive with them remaining unresolved. We can’t sit and wait for the perfect moment as we never reach that point and we run the risk of remaining in a constant state of longing instead of a willingness to be here now.

Being a broken biscuit isn’t so bad. I had to stop chasing the ‘success’ of my perception of wholeness and instead opt for my own version of happiness. Being imperfect and broken but happy, may, to some, appear impossible or mutually exclusive but that’s the problem as it’s our belief that happiness can only come when everything’s fixed, perfect and right that ultimately creates the unhappiness. It’s also because our perception allows us to consider the notion that imperfect and broken even exist as we try to measure up to this and be better. Life doesn’t happen that way, however much we want it to and the longer we keep ourselves in a holding pattern waiting for the ‘right time’, the longer we deny ourselves the opportunity to live. Yet, this is much easier said than done as it somehow feels instinctively wrong to seek out happiness from the darker nooks and crannies of life. Yet to not do so can mean we condemn ourselves to a lifetime of chasing hope and periods of a deep, intense, hollowness and lack.

I’ve recently been entrenched in a prolonged period of gnawing emptiness. I couldn’t find sustenance or nurturance from life or from my spirituality. I felt like a hollow vessel, unable to fully engage in life but in a kind of sensory overload as I was more aware of every thought, emotion and changing current than ever before. Although I felt hollow, it was really the opposite as I was drowning in a pool of emotion. Anger was the dominant emotion rolling around and erupting from me and towards me. It had no clear source but it’s force and ferocity tore through my heart and soul. The faster I tried to run from this, the more overwhelming it became until I collapsed in a exhausted heap on the floor. I knew I couldn’t outrun or outwit the paradoxical torrent of emotional emptiness, but it didn’t stop me from trying to. I guess it’s an inherently human thing to do.

It was only when I realised it was my resistance to feeling the anger that was the likely source of my pain, I turned to it and, instead of resisting it, I tenderly allowed it. I realised my anger was not a force to conquer, run from or eradicate, but a perfectly valid and ‘normal’ response to life. So, I stopped fighting it and allowed it to ebb and flow; in short, I made peace with it and let go. When I let go I saw the bigger picture of my life and instinctively knew the anger was resistance to being the ‘broken biscuit’. So, I took my consciousness back to childhood:

When I was young, we occasionally used to get big boxes of broken biscuits, the one’s that never made the shop shelves. It never occurred to me that these biscuits were inferior in any way as I loved the pick and mix of variety. These biscuits were always such a treat! Life reshaped my prospective over time to see these biscuits as ‘less than’ and this shaped my own beliefs about myself and my health. Of course, this left me in a constant state of want and lack until I couldn’t hold the façade together anymore. So I allowed myself to return to that childhood state of joy and simplicity, and slowly the layers of resistance fell away and equilibrium was restored.

I’d like to say that this process was simple and straightforward but it wasn’t; it took me a long time to let go of the resistance as, over time, it became my safety blanket. I felt safe in the pain because that was all I knew. It, therefore, took considerable effort and determination to ‘let go’ and this came from diving, head first, into the pain and anger. I not only needed to allow it, but I needed to feel it as well. Resistance becomes a coat of armour over time as it trys to protect us from life but, at the same time, it keeps the pain and emotion trapped inside. In short, our osmotic, symbiotic intercourse with life withers and dies. I lived this way for years, decades even, but when the effort and pain to sustain the armour became larger than the pain itself, I imploded and collapsed. Like an over-stretched plastic bag, I reached the point where I was no longer able to bounce back or return to my former ‘glory’. Instead, I had to let go of my aspirations to reclaim all I’d lost and instead re-focus on re-building my life from this new, rawer, but more authentic foundation. My period of emptiness ultimately led me towards opening up to myself and allowing me to be me.

We only get one shot at this life and, in the scheme of things, its rather short so it’s important we make it count. We need to stop procrastinating over the little things, stop taking ourselves so seriously and allow our emotions the space to exist. It’s time to celebrate our broken bits, imperfect bits and quirky bits and love them wholeheartedly. Falling apart allowed me to breathe and to realise I’m perfectly imperfect exactly as I am. So, let’s celebrate our broken bits and voided warranties. Life is for living and loving, not for perfecting.

Comments

Cheri 16th August 2017 2:49 pm

Hi Sarah-Jane, this was so heartfelt and real, thank you for sharing. I think we have all felt like broken bisuits because the society we have tried to fit in is inauthentic. We have not been nourished by our societal structures but drained of the creativity, serenity and joy that comes from thriving rather than surviving. It is not natural or organic to live this way. We constantly search for some kind of superficial "perfection" that is a dead end. It is an artificial end state that is unattainable because it allows for no expansion or diversity which is not natural to creation, nor is it interesting in any way.

The broken biscuits are the unique and very interesting pieces at the bottom of the package that can be consumed without worry or fear of falling apart and becoming imperfect like the rest of the batch after the first bite. Each piece is a reflection of the whole and just as yummy albeit expressing itself differently!!

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Cheri

Toni 16th August 2017 6:17 pm

Yes thankyou Sarah-Jane. Loved what you wrote Cheri...perfect. Haha I have a bee buzzing around my laptop as I read this. My interpretation - when we naturally bee who we are, everything is perfect. Perfection has many angles. I see perfection in Sarah-Jane's anger as I see it as movement to create highest polarized potential. Nothing moves with superficial.

Reminds me of that Katy Perry song Masterpiece..."cos I'm so perfectly incomplete, I'm still working on my masterpeace tonight."

:thumbs:

Cheri 16th August 2017 7:10 pm

Yes Indeed T!! Bees are very busy but they always stop to check out all the flowers which is probably why he was buzzing around you!! Haha!! Warm Regards, COH :)

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Cheri

Jaydee627 16th August 2017 9:24 pm

Thank you for the wonderful read! What a refreshing article as it was very genuinely written and helps others come out of their own unknown places. it is a reminder to allow "negativity" and accept it in order for it to move through me and to not run from it!

Toni 17th August 2017 7:05 pm

Hahaha, COH aren’t you beautiful :thumbs: Hugs..I realize the bee was attracted to the light ball my laptop was creating in the sun. Makes me kinda think their homing sensor is the light that reflects on the balls of pollen rather than something within the pollen. I have to laugh at my own busy reflection cos although my life is fairly casual my mind is always busy collecting/connecting more light/intel.

Hi Jaydee…joining the broken biscuit brigade eh…welcome. When we don’t deal with the negative in the moment it only comes back round bigger, bolder & grander with physical density, cutting an even deeper groove in ones circle of events. Moving through it as you say creates an upward spiral so events return smaller & lighter in physical and one is no longer stuck within a negative cycle. I am curious as to why you chose 627?

:thumbs:

Ores 24th August 2017 2:30 am

Thank you for sharing, Sarah-Jane;
A very honest, real and raw message... beautiful and touching... a rarity in this platform.

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Sarah-Jane Grace

Sarah-Jane Grace has a passion to inspire and empower others. She is a life-long intuitive and a modern-day mystic and wayshower; illuminating both the path to Self and the path ahead in order to instil confidence into the hearts and souls of others. Sarah-Jane works from the heart and speaks from the soul, and opens up to the essence of the cosmos for inspiration and guidance.

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