I have this theory: none of us is inherently whole. We are all just pieced together from fragments of memories, experiences, and stories. We are created from all the people we’ve ever loved or hated. And all the people who have loved and hated us. Each of us has our own unique patchwork heart. So whether or not our pieces are all shiny and new or they are a little jagged and rough around the edges, it doesn’t matter… because we are all woven together the same way.
And for those of us who’ve felt broken or who are currently feeling broken, there is some peace in knowing that we just have to keep living, keep having experiences, making memories, loving and being loved. Because eventually it’s possible to feel put together again. Maybe we won’t be the same person we were before, but maybe we will be better, more refined. That’s what this blog is about: the journies we take to find new pieces.
3 years ago I wrote this post on Facebook:
Two days ago I read back over that post and thought perhaps I’ve got things to say. A unique perspective to be shared. Consequently, this blog was born. I’m casting my voice into the void. Carving out space for vulnerability. Sharing all my pieces with you and hoping you’ll feel brave enough to share yours in return.
How My Pieces Shape my Voice:
As a high school English teacher I’m constantly shaped by the amazing teenagers who share their hearts with me: their angst, their joy, their sadness, their excitement, their wisdom. They inspire me daily and so they will, in part, inspire my writing here. I have no doubt that you will be inspired by them, too.
In my role as graduate student, I’m learning about counseling/therapy. And I’m finding that very often the things I learn coincide with lessons from my own life. I learn more about myself, more about the people I love, more about the strangers I meet on the street. Those lessons imprint upon my patchwork heart (call it the vividness effect, if you please), so to share my heart with you, I’ll have to share those, too.
And, lastly, here is where the real vulnerability comes in, as a person currently in therapy I am constantly reevaluating the ways in which my jagged edges fit together. There are days I have hope and others I have none. Days when I’m surrounded by the swirling tendrils of my own cognitive dissonance. Days when entropy to me is synonymous with beauty. You never really know what you’re going to get but hopefully, maybe, you’ll find something here that resonates.