What Happens When You Break?

I was out in the front yard, barefoot, pulling bindis and other weeds that later grow prickles out of the lawn.

Some of them snapped at the root, and I knew I’d have to have another go once they’d grown back… I knew that the tap root in the meantime would grow deeper and stronger and to be honest, I am tempted to under-my-breath cuss about it.

One thing struck me though…

Since I have been thinking a lot about trauma and conflict, the smashing and crushing we go through in this blessed life; I felt encouraged by the tenaciousness of this tap root.

The snapping-off of its entire energy-collecting sector is no deterrent. Somehow it reserves the strength to dig deeper into the darkness and try again to set itself up to seed, for the sake of its single cause and legacy.

I can certainly relate, and one thing hit me:

When I have been completely smashed by something in my life I have felt more like a pot or vase than anything else.

The smashing feels so shocking and final.

So jarring and ruinous.

I feel the chaos of debris; misplaced shards and the horror of incapacity.

A writing-off of days/weeks/months in the incapacity.

There’s the daunting mystery of the required rebuilding. How could it possibly be done? Who, When and How?

There’s the hope of Kintsugi (the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with veins of gold so it becomes more beautiful for having been broken) but I now I’m think the tap root gives us a better, truer story.

Rumi once said “Where there is ruin there’s hope for a treasure.”

The tap root testifies.

Do you know you have one?

Do you sense it?

The tap root is the Thing which connects you to nutrients, hydration and stability and at any time you can sink down and just BE IN that deepest part of you.

When all your metaphorical leaves are ripped off it’s probably the perfect time to do so, don’t you think?

With everything you were naturally using to energise and establish yourself and bring this legacy to seed completely torn from you…

sink down, my love

sink down and tap in.

Where there is ruin there is hope for a treasure, but no treasure or sustenance is found unless we go deeper into the root of our whole being.

HOORAY! All is not lost! We are more like a weed, and less like a pot!

This brings me to another kitchen-cleaning ponderance I had upon realisation that all the plants in water jars on my window sill were the result of an accidental break.

Just look at them:

The break of the Weeping Fig (on the very left) was most recent and definitely devastating.

It was a windy day and a large canvas blew over, snapping the entire branch/leaf system off its little trunk.

I had been especially enjoying this little plant and it hurt to see it all snapped off. I thought at least I could continue delighting in the greenery on my kitchen window sill, and didn’t think much more of it.

But LOOK at those roots!

(You might be in-the-know and say “of course, Ange! Ficus are vigorous as heck”, and I know this but I am still amazed)

Please realise…

realise and meditate on this with me:

WE ARE THE SAME!

Living things have this extraordinary tenacity.

They JUST DO.

(If you are breathing you are not exempt)

MUCH more dynamic like the tap root and the Weeping Fig branches and not at all static like the pot.

So what happens when you break?

What happens, dear heart, when you break?

Try gently shifting from the Broken Pot lens to the Tap Root lens.

Yes, there is demolishment.

And oooh yes, it huuuurts.

What was thriving and promising and beautiful is torn asunder.

Tap roots cry, I’m sure… and it’s obvious Weeping Figs definitely do

(haha)

But the sadness doesn’t strip them of the deep set knowledge of their unfurling function.

It’s in the blueprint.

Right down in the DNA.

And so that little Tap Root shoots down deeper, holds onto the earth harder and it sprouts again with resolve to bring these blessed seeds.

We could start talking about your metaphorical seeds, but maybe this is enough for now.

Consider the Tap Root.

I’ll be over here, doing the same.

x

Ange

PS. Sometimes we get stuck and need a safe space to process our emotional pain; a terrain to help us move through the difficult emotions and make it to the other side, Tap Root Style.

Art has helped, and still helps me do this, but you gotta have the right mindset for it so I made this class: “Art to Process Your Pain”

It was originally created for the Art to Heal a Heart Membership, but you can access it as a single class here for just $27 (and it comes with TWO BONUS lessons, “Comforting Pattern Production” and “Adventurous Composition Collage”).

I’ll teach you 2 techniques for processing emotional pain with love and purpose so you can stop feeling stuck like a broken pot and start sending your tap root down deeper.