This body you see is not me.   I live without and within.  I am bigger than these breasts, these toes, these eyes.  And I am not broken.

When I am able to just be, I shine with effortless ease.  When I am in fear, I shut down, stutter and retreat.  I become like a roller coaster: up and then down, up and then down.  But I am not broken.

These things I say are not me.  They are a snapshot of this place and time.  I am larger than these words, these shrugs and these sighs.  And I am not broken.

When I surrender to that which must be expressed, I raise the roof off this place!  When I shout in fear, I offend,  I scare and I sadden.  I am unpredictable, like the weather.  First a shower and then a rainbow; first the calm and then the storm.  But I am not broken.

I am spirit, kindness and compassion.  I am the forgiver and the forgiven.  I am the lover and the loved.  This work  we do reveals the truth:  that we are not broken.

Share Button