Are we all broken, are we all looking for ways to heal ourselves?

While processing my feelings over the last couple of years, feelings of loss and sadness and regret, knowing I needed to find a way to stop being so hard on myself, I began to think about this sense of being “broken”. It makes a useful metaphor to explain difficulties.

I wrote and wrote and through this discovered insights into my past, revisioning the past, reinterpreting events, realising how a others were struggling with their own pain – and the thought came – are we all broken? And if so – how can any of us hope to live positive lives, and have positive relationships, when we are carrying our wounds and scars with us into all our interactions with the world.

I believe in exploring myself, my past, my thoughts, my feelings, in order to understand myself. It isn’t easy, and recently it led me to one of my lowest points in recent years. This thought of being broken surfaced again, and I began to wonder if there could be a way to heal my sadness, my regret, the difficulties I have that can be traced back and explained by my childhood. I wondered, is there a way for these wounds to be healed that creates something positive, that doesn’t leave such damage, that results in beauty and strength and growth?

I recalled seeing a Japanese bowl repaired with gold – and this looked so beautiful. The history of the bowl was clearly there, nothing hidden, no pretense, but it had been mended “healed”. The gold itself was beautiful and the pattern it traced over the bowl.

I wondered if I could use this as a metaphor… but how to find or create the gold, could I replace old scars with new traceries of gold?

And so now, knowing I’ve been broken and mended the best way I could at the time, my search now is to find ways to explore my past, my personality, to acknowledge my weaknesses, the defences I’ve created for survival, and re-imagine these, rework these scars with lines of gold “kintsugi”.

Instead of trying to pretend there has been no damage, or to hide the repair, or make the repair invisible, better to honour the past, to own it, to recognise its effects, and reconstruct oneself with beauty and balance and belief in one’s intrinsic value.

Taking time with a friend – sharing interests and putting work to one side…

I’ve been reading recently about “thin places”. Places where people feel they are close to spirit, where the barrier between substance and spirit feels “thin”. Where you feel closer to the sacred. These places can be anywhere – some people find them in conventional religious buildings, some in other places where people gather, some find it in nature – its an individual thing. We each respond differently to the world around us.

I’ve begun thinking that its not just a place that might be thin, but an experience that might bring about a “thinning”.

I was participating in a powhiri yesterday. The formal welcome of one group of people into another’s space. So yes there was place involved, but it was the experience that affected me. The singing – loud, repetitive. I felt chilled and shaky. Afterwards I went outside, feeling a little spooked, needing to be on my own. There was a marble carving – triple spiral – I ran my hand over the curves – cold and smooth. I felt quiet and distant and sad – remembering someone lost to me – aware their birthday would have been the next day.

A friend came over to check I was okay – was it that obvious? She told me she feels a similar need to touch things. She’s Welsh – is this a Celtic thing? Only three feet between earth and heaven – and days like today I feel I could pull aside the veil and step through.

I rejoined the group, walking through the new building, making polite chit chat – but soon went outside again. Someone else came to check on me. I told them I feel like this sometimes – “I’m feeling a little spooked” (perhaps today is the first day I’ve told people) – I said the air felt thin, that I felt unbalanced – he knew immediately what I meant – “You’re in tune with your spiritual side – that’s what events like this are supposed to do”. Good to have it acknowledged, accepted without any need for explanation.

But back to thin places – this was more about feeling the barrier between worlds weaken as a result of an event – not so much about the place itself – more about the time and the ritual – bringing about a temporary “thinning”.

I wonder what else makes this happen … ?

As soon as I settled on these two elements of the natural world to represent myself – the following flowed:

Raven Ash
tree and bird
show me light
show me black
things you’ve seen
things you’ve heard
take me forward
take me back

carry me through wind and rain
hold me in the dark wet earth
shelter me in cave and cliff
hold my death and hold my birth

speak to me
your secret tongue
listen until we are one
seed and feather
egg and leaf
what lies above
what lies beneath

between the two
I find the centre
stillness movement
slowness speed
breadth and focus
surface deep
a place to stand
a place to speak

Raven Ash
tree and bird
show me light
show me black
things you’ve seen
things you’ve heard
take me forward
take me back                                                                                

lift me on your wings and branches
shift me through time and space
feed me the quiet seedling’s growth
show me thunder’s face

I will watch and listen
as you bring me in to life
I will close my eyes and see
I will close my mouth and speak
I will balance between the earth and sky
between awake and sleep
I will walk the edge of winter’s knife
dream and dance in summer’s flame

Raven Ash
tree and bird
you name me
and I begin

becoming
who I am

As I wrote in “About Me” I feel the need to maintain some anonymity at the moment, but I still want a name I can use which carries some significance to me.

So I looked to my connection to the natural world and, indulging my interest in Celtic mythology, I searched the meanings behind trees and animals, settling at last on the ash tree and the raven.

I had been keen to use a word in its original Gaelic – but struggled to work out the pronunciation. I initially liked the Willow with its connections to poets seeking inspiration. But I settled on the Ash with its connection to the spiritual worlds. Its known as the “World Tree” connecting our world with the lower and upper worlds. Known as “Yggdrasil”, it fills the same role in Norse mythology.

Turning my attention to the animal world I thought first of the Owl (I hear them call at night in the trees near my house) but found myself drawn to the Raven. I responded at first with caution – I felt the raven had a very dark presence (metaphorically, symbolically) – but realised I knew almost nothing about it. I discovered it is closely associated with Scotland, with Celtic and Norse myth. There was even a raven in New Zealand, but it is long extinct. There is a strong connection between the raven and death – and I imagine this could lead to some poetic writing work. Death is playing a large part in my thinking and imagination at the moment. However, the raven is also connected in myth to mysteries and memories. And I’ve realised the darkness of the Raven is a perfect fit with the black used in self-image that New Zealanders are often so comfortable with.

So I settled on the Raven and the Ash, and combined into “Ashven” it becomes a name I am happy to use here.

Taking time today to read. “A Hidden Wholeness: the journey toward an undivided life” by Parker J. Palmer.

Can’t help but think that the title of this book reflects a similar intent to O’Donohue’s “invisible necessity”.

Its all about finding ways to connect with one’s true self – about listening to one’s own inner voice. Its so easy to become lost behind the masks and barriers we use to negotiate our way through the world and to try to keep ourselves safe. I know I struggle sometimes with being genuinely myself – I feel there is too much at risk, too much to lose. And sometimes I am too compliant, too willing to follow the easy path. And I know that way lies the risk of becoming lost to oneself – but I crave a peaceful life.

I remember this was confirmed when I was exploring my Enneagram personality type a few months ago, I came out as a “Type 9: the Peacemaker – The Easygoing, Self-Effacing Type: Receptive, Reassuring, Agreeable, and Complacent“. I feel that if I was more in-touch with my inner voice, my true self, I could be braver, bolder, less will to put up with things – but it all hangs on knowing what I want, what is truly important to me.

The Enneagram Institute