"There is something in each of us that demands completeness. An unfinished building, a partially drawn design, an interrupted game, a broken pattern in a woven fabric, a theme cut short in the middle--each of these produces an unsatisfied feeling. There are, to be sure, fragments of rare beauty and significance, but always, as we look upon them, we feel that there is something lacking. We feel this lack very keenly--and sometimes very sorrowfully--when a delicate bit of china or glassware is shattered by some carelessness of ours. What was the perfect whole now lies broken on the floor. We pick up the three or four pieces and pathetically fit them to their former shape--vainly imagining a restored completeness. And then, growing more practical, we begin to wonder how the treasured article can be repaired. We are searching for the satisfying whole."No one goes through life unscathed. Everyone experiences loss and pains throughout the entirety of life. It is never outgrown though often we become callous to it. We search to fix the broken in our lives, we agonize over loss and try to recreate something that life never gave absolute permanence to. We search for that feeling of wholeness again. What is it, the satisfying whole?
(I have no idea who wrote the quoted paragraph but I really like it. It is like a writing lesson the way it uses the word "completeness" at the beginning and the word "whole" in the last sentence. It does make me long for something, obviously, but the writing is very satisfying because the paragraph itself is so complete. I just had to post it.)
22 comments:
I admire your beautiful fractured picture! The paragraph reminds me of the time my son was playing with the dog, and next thing I hear is a crash. They had run into the hutch, jarring it, causing all of my fine china to fall to the floor and shatter. My husband found me crying, sitting on the floor amidst the broken pieces. He said, "Awe honey, I'll glue it back together". He just didn't understand that you don't glue china back together. Thank goodness we don't throw people away like the broken china - after they are broken. People are worth salvaging.
I liked that picture too for some reason. :-) That was a really sweet story you told, what a sweet man. At the same time, oh! that china, that image of your china falling made me cringe and shudder. I can see why you'd be on the floor crying. Someone once accidentally shattered a piece of my favorite crystal and another person stole some. The memory of that piece falling, falling...shattering, has stuck with me far more than that of the stolen crystal! What a sweet image that is of your husband genuinely thinking he could actually glue that back together again. Life is indeed bittersweet. I liked what you said about people being worth salvaging. You have a good heart, O Lava Lovin' Bird Lady. ;-)
O, you have the most beautiful and incredible eyes. I've drawn them, yet still, to see them here again is to look at jewels with a sparkle divine. And what they reflect is a soul beautiful, a light shinning from within that I would hug to pieces if I could. All my blessing to you my dear beautiful soul. You have been whole from the day I met you. :-)
Trée, and your eyes found mine before you even drew the first stroke of them. I miss you; I miss the story and what it's like being caught up with the very most current installment. This time, I got so overwhelmed by how far I was behind it was confusing. I've been longing for a calm and peaceful day to be able to focus and go back, because it's where I want to be, "nose deep" in there and then startled when I reach the last entry. I have sorely missed you, so glad you came by. Hugs and kisses to you....
O
O, I will come and read the story to you personally if I have to. You reading it, walking each chapter of the way with me is just that important. I won't leave you behind. I simply won't. We will find a way. I will carry you on my shoulders if need be.
I can only echo the other two commenters here in saying that you are a true beauty. Oliviah, like everyone else and in some cases you have had more than your as they say fair share of difficult times, I've seldom met a more whole person. Your heart not only remains open but is forthcoming, you look for the pleasure in life and are wonderfully positive and in my book at least those things are the greatest measures of wholeness. I'm so glad to have met you.
I can offer only a quote, being breathless, myself:
"There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale,, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic." Anais Nin
I take this to mean that we are each building our lives as we go. The best to ye.
Trée, they increase the dose till it gets to a certain level with the medication I have to inject and it's making me feel sick, which was inevitable but it's such a relief to know what the problem is for a change, instead of having to do a bunch of tests. It's just, "Oh, it's just the Rebif. I'll get over it."
And with a little luck, I'll be reading tonight, just as if I were there listening to you with my head resting on your shoulder. You do have a way about you of making everything feel like it's going to be all right. Not to mention the many other ways you tend to make a woman feel. ;-)
Aww Autumn, those were such beautiful words to say. It's so like you to think like that. I've often thought I'd like to draw you like Trée did, only with the look on your face I imagine you had when you were singing happy birthday to him with your daughter. (Hooray for these audio post things.) That was pure preciousness, both of you girls. Makes me smile thinking of it. That was a moment in your lives that even to day when I think of it brightens mine. I am so glad to have met you as well.
goatman, I love that quote. I don't think I've seen it before. I have several quotes of hers that I love but find myself staring at this one ending with a sentence that startles me because it so reminds me of myself:
"If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absence of fever, then I will never know happiness.
For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation." -Anais Nin
I still blush to think of everyone hearing my singing voice, but we had such a laugh doing it. Just for you, Oliviah, I may have to do another. ;-D Hope the sick feeling fades as you get used to taking those dosages, love and hugs to you, x
And we are each possessed of a fever for life; for what else can we be?
How fun that sounds, I hope you do make another one. It takes me a while to type and I realized that I've been sitting here smiling the whole time I was trying to type my comment because of the thought of you just being you, over there blushing and singing another audio blog--too cute. :-)
This medication is making it hard to think. I need to visit your blogs, to have a complete thought would be nice. It's just going to take time for me to get used to the medications, that's what the nurse told me today. I don't know if I have an actual case of the flu or if it is side effects of the medication but I don't remember the flu ever making my hair fall out. I have to get some blood work done. I hope no more falls out. I am very lucky that I've always had very thick hair, enough hair for several people if you divided it out evenly. Now I have my "fair share" of hair. That's funny, it rhymed.
Hey Lavagirl - losing your hair sounds pretty awful, but I bet you look better in a scarf than anybody's business. I'm praying your lovely thick hair stays put. Hugs xo
Surprise, surprise! And my first visit to a blog this year, so my first comment in 2008.
Oliviah, I stopped by during a oor of my "favorites" list.And it has been a strong, soothing, inspiring experience, catching up with you over your posts this month. I first aprreciated and admired the diversity - photos (me, the bird-fan!), fractals(that last spirally one is magnificent), and mostly, this piece of writing (no matter who wrote it). It is honestly for everybody. We are all carrying damage of some sort, to greater or lesser extents. We are all, thankfully imperfect. But hidden untreated damage that foments and curdles down the decades....no, I'm thinking of something else now. I'm reading what Terry wrote at the top of the comments. As I first read that part in the text about shattered china, an image/memory of something that shattered in front of me in my office about 16 months ago flashed straight up. I was so instantly distraught, because of the damage as a large photo-frame suddenly crashed to the floor with no apparent provocation that I just picke up my camera and shot it endlessly - macros, high & low angles, light and shadow. Spectacular fragments of glass. The photo - of a single red rose - has always had a very deep significance. I have given reprints endlessly to people in particular difficulties since I first shot it in 2003. Not irreplaceable, but more than just a photo. It seems to contain some deeper power, a rose that reaches out from the paper and enters the heart with a strong positive message. It is about life and after.
But to see it under all that symmetrically smashed glass.....
I'm now looking at smaller printed version just to my left. It's fine.
So, you also finally know what you have that's been attacking you. Knowledge is eternally better than doubt, not knowing.
What a time this is. My wife had a colonoscopy this morning, after 2 weeks that have worn us both out. I don't have the inner strength in reserve like I always used to. The memories of better (not illusions, but reality) torment and ravage and I wish I could stop remembering, because it doesn't help.
But it has done me a power of good to get a sense that you are much stronger inside than before, that you are looking out and that - most important of all - you do not give up.
Stay, Oliviah.
Have gentle kisses and a garden and fruit.
Sxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
goatman, you commented but I wasn't able to respond to this: "And we are each possessed of a fever for life; for what else can we be?" The word that came to my mind is disturbing to even think of (to me), but this was it: indifferent.
Terry, I'll make an adventure of this. After all, it is an adventure really, don't you think? Maybe not one I would have chosen for myself...but an adventure nonetheless. ;-D
O, I dislike comments that say "Hey, come see my blog," but I'm going to do this one time and one time only. I've got a song I want you to listen to. See you soon my dear beautiful soul. I have a bucket full of prayers with your name on them. And I can carry water all day long--night too if need be. Missing you like a bird misses the wind. Love and Hugs and Squeezes. :-)
Icarus----so much you have been going through...I'm glad you remembered me and loved the imagery, I will be thinking of this for some time...and you as well. You are in my prayers...
Hugs and kisses
Trée, last night I decided that today was going to be "Trée Day" no matter what so when I read your comment I thought, what timing he has!
I'm going to get off this computer and borrow the laptop so I can lay down and be able to get comfortable and read so this time I don't get lost somewhere in the storyline. It will be nice if I can catch up.
I will listen to this song right now while I am on this computer. Hugs to you!
I've enjoyed your blog first time here... but probably no one to note this year-late comment... I came in through Dzeni's blog "The Incomplete" Apo art piece, quoting Robert Browing, and pointing to this blog entry I think. I'm really glad you posted it and that I found it. It touched deeply to the point of tears into several shatterings and times of great loss and sorrow in my past, and I've lived with so much regret as feeling the cause of them all, but now seeing that past more like a designed pattern of broken china that I've been (vainly) trying to put back together as before, I just now see my frustration clearly. My wife also just gave me a book to read, "A Grace Disguised" about the author's catastrophic loss of his wife and children in a car accident. While he says you can't measure (compare) an individual's loss, you have to choose to move forward and absorb the losses, face the sorrow and make the choices to build new paths in your life, rather than run from or agonize over the darkness and live life as an interrupted game as I have for so long now, keeping me from having any success in the years since then. The search for wholeness must move on. This has been eye opening, a serendipity. Thank you, Oliviah.
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