• Peyton Cram

Growth Through Pieces

Updated: Mar 31, 2020

I was told to fall apart.

This statement hit my "I'm impeccable" wall and hit the ground with a thud.

What do you mean fall apart?

You see, holiday seasons are tough for me for a variety of reasons; one of which, it's a trauma anniversary. My entire life I've had to hold things together, hold myself together, and keep on trucking forward. The idea of letting the pieces of my emotional being out to flounder about seemed absolutely terrifying. I can't move forward if I'm missing.

It wasn't until recently, that I decided to deep dive into my psyche and sort things out (i.e. there is a difference between smoothing things over and deep diving). As the epitome representation of my trauma anniversary approached, the threads of my psyche seemed to start to unravel and I did something out of the ordinary, I told someone. They suggested, "Why don't you fall apart?"

I got offended. My entire life has been on feat after another of picking up my pieces to carry on my back. Carting around the shards of my life with their increasing weight balancing on me was what I thought healing was supposed to be like for me. So I initially took the suggestion as an insult towards my progress in picking up my pieces. It never dawned on me that I wasn't supposed to hold onto them.

When you hold onto your pieces, they tend to cut and nick and snag. They can't help their sharp edges nor the weightiness of their existence. They were merely the product of an event.

I'd like to say that I eventually took the suggestion after deliberate consideration, but I didn't (i.e. I can be quite stubborn). No, I fell apart because I couldn't take it anymore. I was, metaphorically, bloodied trying to keep things together and the strain was too much. So I dunked my hands in paint and let it out on the canvas.

Taking a step back, staring at the hand trails, emotions and thoughts sprung freely and needed expressed. The below result left me unnerved, but relieved. Calm. Grateful.

It wasn't until it sat for a week that I began to transform it to where it is now.

The message I want to leave with you, what I learned for myself, sometimes we need to let go of the pieces so they can plant themselves. We spend most of our lives running from our pieces or holding them or hiding them, thinking our mission is done. But how about this, they are our new mosaic? The pieces meant for a mosaic, waiting for us to let them go and fall into their imgar? They were just waiting for us to bring them together and they can do the rest on their own.

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