I have had a tenuous relationship with this idea of wholeness. It has felt at times to be this insurmountable rugged terrain, full of twist and turns, and occasional tripping along the way. The struggle between knowledge of the truth and the dampening feelings of my own heart. It is in these times that I look to the “hiking sticks” of my life, those individuals that have brought steady strength and support. Their quiet whispers and gently glances have pointed to the truth of my wholeness, despite my own perception of cracks and jagged edges. It is in these moments that I am reminded that wholeness does not mean an absence of cracks and scars, but instead it speaks to the amazing process of the integrating of those pieces, cracks and all. It becomes a melding of the parts that we allow others to see with the parts that we would like to keep behind the curtain. Wholeness, to me, is the brave action of pulling back the curtain and casting light on the depth and breadth of all our many facets. Wholeness is not a one and done deal. I believe it is a daily choice of mixing of all aspects of ourselves, kind of like you would mix bits of play dough into a ball. As a kid I use to hate playing with play dough because no matter how hard I tried the colors always seemed to mix together, and to my controlling mind this was unacceptable. But maybe that is what wholeness is, mixing all the colors of our lives, our experiences, our triumphs, and our challenges into one big ball of colorfully mixed play dough. So wholeness becomes not a static destination, but an ever evolving rainbow ball, beautifully imperfect, full of possibilities, and too expansive to fit back into a tiny container.
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