The Practice of Becoming Whole Again

the practice of becoming whole again cracked bowl

I found a bowl in the cupboard the other day as I was transitioning my home altar from spring to summer for the Summer Solstice.

The bowl was still in 3 pieces from when I dropped it months ago.

I love this bowl. It’s one of my favorite seafoamy colors. It’s the perfect size for holding keys or change or offerings (as it is in my new altar). And it was my Mom’s.

I’m not sure why I haven’t tried to put it back together before.

Perhaps I thought it was too broken, so was saving it for a craft project?

I stocked up on super glue recently and I’ve been gleefully glueing everything back together—my trail running shoes, my faith stonewhy not this bowl?

I glued two pieces together. Then the third wouldn’t fit!

Argh.

Turns out, it would have fit perfectly if I had glued all three pieces together at the same time.

Tricky but doable.

I jammed it in there the best I could. It’ll still work as an offerings bowl etc. but there’s a big jagged edge. Like a crooked scar.

Too Broken to Be Whole

When I was 20 years old and my Mom died unexpectedly, it was my heart that broke into pieces. Similarly, I set it on a shelf because I didn’t know how to deal with it.

I sort of put my heart back together, but it took me years to put the last piece in—to fully grieve, to forgive and to be whole again.

No right or wrong, just is.

And no coulda-woulda-shouldas, though I often sensed the now lesson learned that “glueing” all the pieces back together at once—as hard as that is—would create more immediate wholeness.

Tricky but doable, indeed.

After I glued the bowl back together, I shared this lesson learned on Facebook and some folks reminded me that: “In Japan they add ‘gold’ to the cracks, to highlight that the cracks are part of its history.”

Kintsugi (金継ぎ, “golden joinery”), also known as Kintsukuroi (金繕い, “golden repair”), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique.

Becoming whole again with beautiful golden cracks.

Healing the deepest hurts

This is what it felt like happened to my heart last week when my family spread my mother’s ashes in a place that was special to us and to her—a nearby mountain she had climbed 15 times by the time she was 28 years old and started having the three of us kids.

Losing her was a sudden and deep wound. And the recovery was long and deep.

So many years later, my eyes and heart sobbed as deeply as the day her spirit left us.

As the ashes lingered on my finger tips then caught the wind in a tiny poof, I could feel the solid mountain beneath my feet.

Deep breaths. Still moments. A blessing shared out loud sealing a universal ritual in a sacred place.

“May perpetual light shine upon
the ashes of all who rest here.

May the lives they lived
unfold further in spirit.

May all their past travails
find ease in the kindness of clay.

May the remembering earth
mind every memory they brought.

May the rains from the heavens
Fall gently upon them.

May the wildflowers and grasses
Whisper their wishes into light.

May we reverence the sense of presence
in the stillness of this silent mountain.”1

The crack was painted with gold.

I was able to easily flow from this moment into the next—sharing snacks and champagne on a picnic table with the grandkids—recovered to a seemingly normal state.

This is what we patiently seek.

Really Seeing Ourselves

What all is healing in you?

Is it getting the space and attention it needs at the stage that it’s at?

We are all healing.

We all have cracks that can be painted gold.

They don’t make us stronger, but they can give us strength.

The world needs you to repair what is divided.

Healing is a process of becoming whole again.

We think of it as slow or fast, but it’s actually timeless.

Sometimes healing takes years before we reach integrity again—for us to be unimpaired, undivided.

Start The Process

Since becoming injured in a bike accident in several weeks ago I’ve been acutely aware of the stages of healing wounds:

  1. Shock Stage: Triage
  2. Immobility Stage: Protection
  3. Growth Stage: Rebuilding
  4. Mobility Stage: Recovery

That’s my own words, not the terms medical professionals use, based on how I’ve experienced them whether it’s been my body or spirit that’s been healing.

With this recent wound, I’ve watched in awe my body doing what it naturally knows how to do. My job: to stay out of the way. 

“The healing process is remarkable and complex, and it is also susceptible to interruption due to local and systemic factors…When the right healing environment is established, the body works in wondrous ways to heal and [revitalize itself].” Online Source

Now that the scabs are gone, skin grown back, bruises faded and I’m walking and running again it appears that I’m all better.

But, I’m not.

There is still pain with certain movements, fatigue from too much use and instability in my balance.

More patience, more healing.

That’s why the recovery stage is such a surprisingly difficult stage in healing. The process of returning to a normal state.

But what is a normal state?

When everything is so healed that there are no cracks, no weakness? As if it never happened?

I don’t think so.

Perhaps the normal state is when our renewed strength is challenged, yet remains stable.

This does not mean we are unbreakable. Wouldn’t that be nice?

But we are whole again.

Whole with beautiful golden cracks.

The empowering and discouraging truth

Whole doesn’t mean finished. How could it be?

There is no finished state of life.

Not for nature, not for humans.

While my knee is on the mend, I am just now moving into protection mode as the shock wears off about the financial reality and compounded debt I’ve discovered as I’ve been doing my 2017 bookkeeping and preparing taxes for the extension deadline.

We are constantly in flux between healing one thing or another.

This can be discouraging or empowering. You choose. 

It’s key to not get stuck in any stage, especially shock, like the broken pieces of bowl I left sitting on the shelf for months.

Give each stage it’s time to be, then move on.

Stuck is different than immobility. Immobility has purpose.

For instance, my knee swelled up immediately to protect itself and stabilize. Then I stopped moving for a few days to give the knee time to adjust and start rebuilding once it settled down. The swelling needed to recede in order to actually heal, so that I could move again.

Stuck is uncomfortable because you feel “broken.”

You’re not. You’re just not making progress toward wholeness.

Once you start, the healing accumulates. And so does the resilience.

You come back easier, sooner, faster.

You don’t get stuck in a stage.

You glide through the healing process with energy to spare, focusing on recovery. Recovering wholly and soulfully.

So that even amidst the continuous and constant healing process of living, you feel glued together—not broken.


1 Blessing adapted from original by John O’Donohue from To Bless the Space Between Us, a beautiful compilation of blessings to consecrate life’s transitions and heartfelt moments

News from Jules | 07.23.2018 | How Do We Heal Well?

one lesson about integrity every week

Last week my family spread my Mother’s ashes in a place that was special to us and her, a nearby mountain she had climbed 15 times by the time she was 28 years old and started having the three of us kids.

Losing her 15 years ago was a sudden and deep wound. And the recovery was long and deep.

Last Wednesday, my eyes and heart sobbed as deeply as the day her spirit left us.

As the ashes lingered on my finger tips then caught the wind in a tiny poof, I could feel the solid mountain beneath my feet.

Deep breaths. Still moments. 

beautiful blessing by John O’Donohue shared out loud sealing a universal ritual in a sacred place.

“May perpetual light shine upon 
the ashes of all who rest here.”

I was able to easily flow from this moment into the next—sharing snacks and champagne on a picnic table with her grandkids—recovered to a normal state.

This is what we patiently seek.

Healing is a process of becoming whole again. 

We think of it as slow or fast, but it’s actually timeless.

Sometimes healing takes years before we reach integrity again—for us to be unimpaired, undivided.

Over the past several weeks since my bike accident, I’ve been in awe watching my body do what it naturally knows how to do: heal itself. My job: to stay out of the way. 

How do we heal well?

I’ve been acutely aware of the stages of healing and inspired to write a blog post about how we can move through the stages of healing more gracefully and easily.

“The healing process is remarkable and complex, and it is also susceptible to interruption due to local and systemic factors…When the right healing environment is established, the body works in wondrous ways to heal and [revitalize itself],” say the medical professionals.

Now that the scabs are gone, skin grown back, bruises faded and I’m walking and running again it appears that I’m all better.

But, I’m not.

There is still pain with certain movements, fatigue from too much use and instability in my balance.

More patience, more healing.

That’s why the recovery stage is such a surprisingly difficult stage in healing. The process of returning to a normal state.

But what is a normal state?

When everything is so healed that there are no cracks, no weakness? As if it never happened?

I don’t think so.

Perhaps the normal state is when our renewed strength is challenged, yet remains stable.

This does not mean we are unbreakable. Wouldn’t that be nice?

But we are whole again.

What all is healing in you?

Is it getting the space and attention it needs at the stage that it’s at?

So that even amidst the continuous and constant healing process of living, you feel glued together—not broken.

May this week continue to heal all that is recovering in you.

Love,
Jules


I share a lesson learned about integrity every Monday. Sign up for delivery right to your inbox. Want more? There’s lots more lessons learned here on my blog, so have fun exploring and commenting about your own insights! 

News from Jules | 07.16.2018 | I Have a Gift for You.

one lesson about integrity every week

Receiving is one of the deepest forms of presence.

This is the real gift.

Not what is received.

But the stillness of that moment beholding that what is given is exactly what is needed.

This takes an open heart and open hands.

And a little bit of sneakiness on the part of the universe, I think.

This happened to me today. Maybe it’s happening to you right now!

It’s becoming a familiar feeling. A gentle sense of delight that feels like washing your hands in perfectly warm water.

It’s been happening to me a lot lately.

More than usual?

Well, that’s a bit of a trick question, isn’t it?

One of my big takeaways from reading To Sell is Human by Daniel Pink earlier this year was:

We are always making offers. Not because we’re in constant exchange (though we are) and not because we’re transacting (what we commonly think of as “selling”) which we might be. Exchange comes with the expectation of receipt, whereas offering is part of relating: showing up in the world and seeing others, feeling connected, thus offering something you have that they need.

Offerings are constant, they’re happening all the time. A hello, a text message asking “What’s up?,” space to change lanes in heavy traffic, the last chipful of guacamole, a door being opened, undivided attention, getting treated to ice cream, an invitation to hang out, words of wisdom, or a hand-me-down dress.

That’s what happened to me today.

When I stopped by to help out with a couple things at my friends’ house, there was a note and a dress on the counter.

“Oh wow, I was just thinking this weekend how I needed more than one casual summer dress,” I beamed to myself.  

Since starting my Buy Nothing experiment in 2016 (initially a year, now going on three) I have been given many clothes.

All offered—no expectation of anything in return—though some still with expectations attached. Mostly about unburdening themselves. And usually stuff I hadn’t needed either.

Other times, like today, the offer is exactly what I need and thus delightfully received.

This is the presence.

The offer comes from a place of presence, some sensing, some whispering to make the offer.

And then the presence to receive.

But, offering can become a compulsive habit of giving, an irresistible urge, and thus an unconscious act.

These offerings are constant, they’re happening all the time.

Giving, giving, giving. These are the ones with strings attached. 

All different kinds of strings were behind my own constant giving in the past. From the sense of comfort found in leading and thus controlling to the joy of being seen for my thoughtfulness.

Leading and being thoughtful come naturally to me. That’s a gift. 

If they are used to serve, not to be served.

And, they are only part of the equation.

Following and receiving attention are the balance. Those do not come as naturally to me.

My community and especially my “pit crew” have offered so much recently. Opportunities to follow their lead.

Even before my knee injury several weeks ago, I sensed the shift this year. A season of following and receiving, of opening and connecting more deeply, embracing wholeness.

Necessary learning journeys, I’m certain. Far from comfortable.

The universe constantly offers disruption that keeps us alert and so far this summer season has been especially “helpful.” Things keep changing. Each day new information shows up. Lots of new beginnings.

So yes, I believe I have been receiving more than usual lately. And it usually feels great!

Summer is a season of connection. A time to speak from the heart.

​Say what you mean, mean what you say.

And a time to receive what ever it is you most need right now. The things you can name and say out loud and the things others are seeing and offering.

May your heart and hands lay wide open this week.

Love,
Jules


I share a lesson learned about integrity every Monday. Sign up for delivery right to your inbox. Want more? There’s lots more lessons learned here on my blog, so have fun exploring and commenting about your own insights! 

What Matters Most

what matters most jules speaking to grandmother ocean

This was the moment when I really felt it: this.

“This is bliss.”

“This is what matters most.”

Why?

Because it was a combination of what’s important to me and how my soul glows.

These moments used to be fewer and farther in between. Accidental connections to my truest nature. I wanted more. 

Nowadays, I have found the words to define my personal guidelines for living a whole life. Living wholly and soulfully. Not accidental, but intentional.

That doesn’t mean life is perfect. Far from it. 

I am always practicing and I have a light to guide the way: my personal guidelines for the day-to-day and my inner guide for when things get really tricky.

Everyone has this light, though not everyone has the words.

How does one learn what matters most?

By preparing for the answers: keeping sacred space, knowing your inner guide and asking the big questions, and then, living into them.

Start with Perspective

In one of my favorite movies, About Time, the lead character can time travel.

He doesn’t need a machine like Bill & Ted. He can just close his eyes, focus on a moment, and go there.

The most powerful thing he discovers? He has do-overs.

He can go back and re-do every day, savoring the moments:

  • Acknowledging the clerk at the market with a smile.
  • Noticing the beautiful windows as he’s running to catch his train.
  • Greeting his crying, messy child after work.

Eventually, he stops time traveling and literally only lives in the present.

Feel free to stop reading and go stream it (it’s so good).

Then, you can come back to this post and learn about how to live this way. 

Why isn’t life only about what really matters?

According to the movie, life is only about these precious moments—what really matters—it’s just about our perspective on it.

Yes, and, you might be thinking.

There’s actually a lot in our lives that doesn’t matter. More so for some people than others.

How do we know what does and doesn’t matter?

“To discern what is truly essential we need space to think, time to look and listen, permission to play, wisdom to sleep, and the discipline to apply highly selective criteria to the choices we make. Ironically in [our] culture these things—space, listening, playing, sleeping and selecting—can be seen as trivial distractions,” wrote Greg McKweon in Essentialism about the disciplined pursuit of less.

How do we find space and time and permission and wisdom?

We practice.

Keeping Sacred Space

I find the best time for me to practice creating sacred space is when I’m backpacking, when I’m on retreat and when I observe Sabbath, my “weekly retreat.”

In his book, Sabbath, Muller writes, “Sabbath is an incubator for wisdom. When we allow the rush and pressure of our days to fall away, even for a short period of time, we are able to discern the essential truth of what lies before us.”

Poet Wendell Berry, who has a longstanding practice of Sabbath, wrote:

During the Buddhist Sabbath, lay people and monks gather to recite the precepts that govern their practice. There are hundreds of these precepts for monks, concerning everything from how you meditate to how you eat your food and how you wash your bowl.

But more than the specific precepts, it is a time to reiterate what is ultimately important, sacred. Whether the Eightfold Path of Buddhism, the Five Pillars of Islam, or the Ten Commandments, most religions consider certain precepts to be guiding lights to help us find our way through darker times.

Berry often writes poetry about what’s ultimately important, sacred, on the Sabbath. There is a sense of divine inspiration in his observations of the world and its interconnectedness.

“Sabbath is a time when we retreat from the illusion of our own indispensability. We are important in that we are part of something larger,” adds Muller.

Something larger that’s often hard to comprehend without some guidance.

Knowing Your Inner Guide

“Whether we choose spirituality or religion, we need a system of experiences and beliefs that is true to our own experience. We must once again look at our own lives and discover what we already know,” says Cecile Andrews, author of The Circle of Simplicity: The Return to the Good Life.

Anthropology Professor Roger Walsh wrote:

We know more than we know we know. The inner source has been called by many names: for example, the Hindu’s “inner guru,” the Tibetan Buddhist’s “personal diety,” the Christian Quaker’s “still small voice within,” or the psychologist’s “higher self.” Whatever the name, the implications are the same. We have within us remarkable wisdom that will guide and help us if we learn how to recognize and draw on it.”

Just that simple.

Ultimately, yes, and…

From my experience the learning how to recognize [and listen] and draw on it, is a lifelong quest for the monks and us lay people alike.

Over the years, I’ve come to know and listen to this.

My inner guide is the filter for what is true to me, at any given time, on my path. 

As I’ve quieted and settled what Walsh describes as “the outer self” of surface emotions, habits and personality, and then “the inner self” of secret hopes and fears, self-image and beliefs, the listening grew easier, the voice grew louder and clearer.

This so-called voice lies within our “deep self,” or soul.

For some this conversation comes through deep, committed practices with meditation or yoga.

For me this conversation comes mainly through intentional practices of:

It is in these sacred spaces and times when I’ve become acquainted with my inner guide, my deep self, my still small voice within.

It’s always been there, I just hadn’t asked or hadn’t really listened before.

Asking the Big Questions

Listening starts with asking. The curiosity to receive whatever shows up.

Questions like:

  • What inspires me?
  • What is it like when I’m “in my element”?
  • What is love?
  • What do I believe?
  • What do I fear?
  • What’s always been important to me?
  • What connects me to Source?
  • When do I feel whole?

I’ve been amazed at how often it’s in the most minuscule moment of awe, perhaps examining a worm slithering through the soil, that my inner guide reveals my deepest knowing, the answers to these questions.

“Sabbath honors this quality of not knowing, an open receptivity of mind essential for allowing things to speak to us from where they are,” wrote Muller.

It is a lifelong conversation to recognize our own wisdom.

There is a difference between knowledge and wisdom.

In Essential Spirituality, Dr. Walsh said:

Knowledge informs us, wisdom transforms us.
Knowledge is something we have, wisdom is something we must become.
Knowledge is expressed in words, wisdom in our lives.
Knowledge empowers, wisdom empowers and enlightens.

Wisdom is our deepest knowing.

As such, often our most heartfelt questions are more of a feeling than a thought.

They don’t always formulate into neat, little sentences.

Because it’s not about figuring things out. That’s knowledge.

This is about feeling things out as our being connects the dots and then the answer emerges.

Wisdom.

The wisdom, courage, and clarity we need are already embedded in creation—in nature, in the world, in our lives. The solution is already alive in the problem. Thus, our work is not always to push and strive and struggle. Often we have only to be still, and we will know, wrote Muller.

The Tao Te Ching asks us:

Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
till the right action arises by itself?

In other words, until the right answer arises by itself?

Moments Matter Most

Once you start having the conversation, you can discern what is truly essential, what matters most, as McKweon describes.

You’ll know what is important to you and how your soul glows.

You’ll know what this feels like and you’ll be able to start putting the words together to define your personal guidelines for living a whole life.

Once you name it, you can live it even more intentionally. Remembering and practicing these fundamental precepts each week, they become your every day.

“When I am fully aware of clouds moving, birds trilling, insects buzzing and downy feathers floating on the still lake, I lean into the portal from this moment, beyond next week, and into the grand scale of things, weighing the collection of meaningful moments holding my life together,” wrote Shelly Miller.

This is living life to the fullest.


Join others from around the country in the next Sabbath Course as we explore and practice together, inspired by an interfaith, personal approach to this universal tradition. This 7-week course includes fun weekly activities, weekly community gatherings online and your own practice. You’ll experience what students describe as a “positive and significant impact on my personal growth and spiritual exploration.”