“No man is an iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee….”
— John Donne, from “Meditation 17: Devotions upon Emergent Occasions”
We are all beloved and beautiful. We are all broken. We do things and make decisions that cause hurt, pain, and suffering–for ourselves and for others. We also do things and make decisions that get it right and bring joy and hope to this crazy world in which we live. It’s a mixed bag, but one thing is for certain, we do not do this thing called life alone. Even when we try, we are never truly alone; biology, physics, psychology, and theology provide ample evidence of that.
You. Me. I. We. All of us are a part of something bigger than ourselves. We even share air. Our matter does not go out of existence, simply changing form. The same sunset (I rarely get up early enough to see a sunrise) I watch is enjoyed by countless others–past, present, and I suspect, future. Whether you have deep faith in a creative and sustaining God, have serious doubts that such a God exists, or choose to believe that everything is random and pointless, you still are not alone. You are not an island.
Dearly beloved, own what is yours. Claim your stuff. Pick up your own baggage (and preferably work your way through it and come out the other side much lighter). Understand that you are responsible for your own decisions and actions, those that are good and those that are harmful. But, in the process, for heaven’s sake, don’t carry others’ baggage for them.
Do not accept blame for that which is not your doing. Do not accept the projection of someone else’s stuff and nonsense to become an image of your own. Do not be beaten down or manipulated by the abusive behaviors and rhetoric of those who would ask you to carry their burdens, accept their blame, and wallow in their muck and misery. This is not your work in life. This is not why you were created and gifted.
Name that which is not yours to carry. Set it down. Leave it behind–gently, yet firmly. Be angry and hurt. That is part of being human; however, do not carry that bitter baggage for long. It will only poison you and give those who would abuse your good will power that is not earned or deserved. Lay it down. Put it to rest. Commend it to the dust of discarded memory and look to the path that lies ahead.
We are not islands. We are meant to thrive in connection and abundance and joy. We are designed for relationship–right relationship that does not pawn guilt or spawn dis-ease. We are called to co-create, not co-depend. Do not be trapped by those who would abuse you into believing otherwise. Do not believe the lies that are myriad and maddening.
Yes, all of us are broken. This is truth. But, my dearly beloved, I believe with all my heart that the arc of the universe does indeed bend toward justice (thank you, Dr. King) and that hope is the thing with feathers (thank you, Miss Dickinson) and that you and I, we, all of us, are meant to soar.
So collect your broken pieces, beloved, sweep them up and treasure them. Examine their uniqueness and know they have purpose and place in this puzzle we call life. Put them back together like divine Kintsugi–with the gilt of goodness, the cement of courage, and the fire of beauty. You will be stronger in your broken pieces that reform to make a new whole.
There is such beauty in your brokenness restored. There is such hope for the world in your reclaimed flaws. There is such joy in the cosmos when you decide to be fully you. We are not islands, you and I; we are the stuff of stars and the entire cosmos hums within us. We are. Loved. Original. Beautiful. Broken. Yet Enough. Not because of anything we could say or do or even deserve. We are because the Creator of the spangled night sky and the tiniest ant spoke us into creative, connected existence. This is truth that hums and sings and weaves us together.
That’s us, my beloved. We.
Photo Credits: S. Blezard, Bill Cuffrey, June’s Child. Creative Commons License. Thank you.