(By Corey Rotella, CNA Extraordinaire)
I put it on paper. I paint it on canvas. I reach in and drag up the very essence of who I am, my light and dark and discuss it with rooms full of strangers.
I feel the sharp edges of my fear prick the back of my mind, quietly nagging me with slivers of self-doubt. The relentless second guessing of my every thought and emotion whispers to me beneath the louder and more vibrant ideas that color my mind; the hamster wheel of chaos that churns up the dust clouds in my head, blurring my vision and skewing my perspective. I am so very broken sometimes.
There is a peace that comes from owning that and admitting it, a hope that is unique to the broken people, the outcasts, those of us who are “different”. A broken person is given cracks through which to see the deeper essential truths of reality. A broken person is given the opportunity to put their pieces back together in a way that make the world make sense to them again. A broken person has more of an ability to help other broken people. Broken people who have put the pieces back together will do anything in their power to prevent breaking other people because they know how it feels.
Humor, hope, resiliency, trust, faith, courage, compassion and empathy and emotional intelligence are the happy byproducts of putting yourself together time and time again as you walk through life. Fear, self-doubt, resentment, dishonesty, boredom, jealousy, loneliness; those are the unintended consequences derived from viewing life through a window full of cracks instead of breaking through, cleaning up the shards of glass and starting anew.
We have a choice. We always have a choice. Sometimes I forget that and stay in that grey area in my mind, futilely battling with myself in a stubborn refusal to just let go of the pieces that don’t fit as I try to force the reality into what I think it should be. I become the master of my own misery until I throw up my arms in frustrated surrender. Ok life. You win. I’m broken again. What’s next?… And then I put it on paper. I paint it on canvas. I reach in and drag up the very essence of who I am, my light and dark and discuss it with rooms full of strangers. And in doing so, my pieces fall back in place.
Corey Anne Rotella co-authored the book CNA Edge: Reflections from year one along with Bob Goddard and Hannah Hedges. It’s collection of essays from their blog CNA Edge: A Voice from the trenches of Long Term Care