Broken Open

The storm arrived in the dark and starless night, with wind howling, with ocean waves fierce and towering.  I was shattered by my grief and fell into the black hole of the Void.

I have emerged at the other side, salty and wet and tired, and surprised somehow to have been deposited upon this fine sand in the soft pre-dawn. Yet, peaceful.  Broken:  but not in pieces.  Rather, broken open.  I see myself anew in the emerging light.  I understand my mistakes, and I have learned.

I am alone; but I am not alone, for I am with myself.  I will hold my own hand.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

We have posted these words before. They ring true again, as Kahlil Gibran's words always do.