We Who are Broken

 As a person who is “an egotist with an inferiority complex” (heard in 12-step groups), I have to remind myself often that as broken as I feel, everyone around me can feel the same way. When I look at another person and see only what I want to see, I am unconsciously choosing to ignore the parts which would take the individual in question out of the pigeonhole I’ve placed them in.

This is a process which happens whether I see the person as a superior being, or when I only choose to see the parts which grate. We each have all the bits and pieces which make us both unique and similar to each other. Sometimes I am a broken person, and sometimes I’m the one with the glue. Sometimes I need others, and at times, others need me. Give and take, yin and yang.

Just as I’m learning every day to see the fullness of who I am, I must allow everyone I meet to be fully themselves. That certainly doesn’t mean that I need to accept behavior which I find unacceptable; I will be true to my own values, while honoring the sovereignty of them to live their own lives. I’ve tried (and tried, and tried) to change others, all while not seeing the aspects within myself which I need to change. I can say truthfully that it will never work. Change, as we all know, must come from within. The only person I have any right to try to alter in any way is myself.

Comparison is the nasty little spiny thing that whispers into my psyche all the ways in which I either fall short or am somehow better than others. It’s all rot and lies—I can’t know what motivates anyone else. I’m just learning to recognize what motivates me! The truth is that in ways seen and unseen, known or secret, we are all broken in some way. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. I’m fortunate enough to spend time in environments which allow and encourage the truth about myself to be discovered and dealt with.

This whole process reminds me of the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired, then  the cracks are covered with gold, silver, or platinum. The process recognizes and honors the breaks, with the repairs making the items even stronger and more beautiful than before. 

The brokenness in me sees the brokenness in you. Together, we are indeed beautiful vessels.